‘What about the explanation that he was drunk?’

‘Again, more likely to strike out, less likely to carry through a plan. No.’ Issy shook her head. ‘I don’t buy it, don’t buy it at all.’

‘Even to defend his son?’ Jazz pressed.

‘There’s no doubt his lad is the light of his life and I’ll be interested to meet him tomorrow to give me the bigger picture. You know I’m not here to weigh up the technical side of the case, or the evidence. I’m here to tell you that in my professional opinion – even without the fact we know he’s lying through his teeth about having some aspirin conveniently in his pocket – the scenario put forward by Millar does not fit. Poor bloke. Sounds as if he’s had a dreadful time one way and another.’

‘But the point still remains: why would he say he did it, if he didn’t?’ asked Jazz.

‘I think you have two possible alternatives: number one, he’s protecting someone, and that someone can only be his son, whom I shall be seeing tomorrow. The second, and equally valid alternative, is that it’s a cry for help and attention. Goodness knows how many times I’ve seen that. A person at the end of his tether, desperate, confesses to something he didn’t do in order to bring the spotlight upon himself. David Millar may not be a murderer, but that’s not to say he hasn’t lost his grip on reality. He’s suffered loss and trauma and that may well have affected his state of mind. I’d have to talk to him some more to discover how deep that goes, but I’d certainly recommend some kind of counselling. I’d also suggest having another bash at interviewing him, telling him we know of his allergy to aspirin, and asking him why he’s lying.’

‘I’ll go down to see him now. Thanks, Issy. By the way, talking of counsellors, that’s the professional hat I’ll need you to wear when you talk to Rory Millar. There’s a possibility he’s complicit in a murder and we need to find out what he knows, but we also need to tread carefully with the kid. He’s been through a lot by all accounts. Play up your cuddly side with the mother, too, so she doesn’t get spooked.’

‘Darling, I can be whoever you wish me to be and play my part to perfection. Did I ever tell you my great-great-uncle trod the boards with Bernhardt? Acting’s in the family. Now, where’s the nearest hostelry? I’m starving.’

‘We’ve booked you into Miles’s hotel in town and he’s going to wine and dine you.’

‘Wonderful.’ Issy stood up and took Jazz by the shoulders. ‘And what about you? Aren’t you joining us?’

Jazz felt the heat rise to her cheeks. ‘No, sorry, I’m afraid I can’t.’

Issy smiled. ‘Methinks our Jazmine has a hot date with a man. Would I be right?’

‘I’m going out to supper with someone whom I’m helping research a thesis. I hardly know him.’