There was a pause on the line. Then Norton said, ‘Coughlin told me there was incontrovertible forensic evidence. On top of which, this Millar has already admitted to killing Charlie Cavendish.’

‘I’m afraid I’d have to disagree there, Sir, not that I’m doubting DCI Coughlin’s judgement,’ she added quickly. ‘There was forensic evidence, yes, but its reliability in terms of upholding a conviction would be questionable. Having only arrived on the case yesterday, DCI Coughlin wasn’t aware of all the facts.’

‘Well, the fact remains there is a man currently in custody. At least the powers that be at the school are resting much easier, as I’m sure are Mrs Millar and her son.’ Norton responded curtly.

‘Yes, Sir. I’m just not entirely convinced it’s the right man.’

‘I see.’

Jazz could hear Norton thinking.

Finally, he said, ‘Putting it bluntly, Hunter, it’s obvious that DCI Coughlin turning up as he did must have made it hard for you. Therefore, you have to give me your word that your need to continue with the investigation is based purely on professional reasons, not personal ones. Whoever arrested Millar is immaterial if he committed the crime.’

‘I’m aware of that, Sir, and, despite what you might think, this has nothing to do with any situation between DCI Coughlin and myself. In my professional opinion, there are a number of leads which I’ve yet to follow up. I believe I would be compromising the integrity of the force if I didn’t do so.’

She heard him sigh. ‘All right. But I want Millar held whilst you do so. Twenty-four hours maximum, and then I’m pulling everyone off the case.’

‘Thank you, Sir. I appreciate it. I’ll call you when I have news.’

‘You do that, Hunter. Good luck.’

‘Thank you, Sir.’

Jazz put the receiver down in relief, glad that was over. She leaned over and switched on the tape recorder to listen to David Millar’s interview. When she had finished, she asked the duty constable to bring Millar up from the cell to see her.

Jazz studied him as he sat down opposite her. Millar looked awful, his eyes bloodshot, his gaunt face tinged with grey.

‘How are you?’ she asked.

‘How is anyone in my position?’ He shrugged.

‘I know you’ve already been interviewed by my colleague, so I won’t go back over old ground, but there are a few questions I’d like to ask you.’

‘Fire away, Inspector.’

‘You say that on Tuesday night, the evening Julian Forbes was murdered, you left your house, walked to Foltesham, then took a taxi into Norwich and spent the evening drinking at a pub near Castle Mall.’

‘I did, yes.’

‘Can you remember which pub?’

David shook his head. ‘I visited a few.’

‘Then what did you do?’

‘When they chucked me out at closing time, I found a bench and fell asleep.’

‘When did you wake up?’

‘Before dawn sometime. It had started to snow, and I’d sobered up and was freezing. I walked around trying to find a taxi, but no one would take me to Foltesham because of the weather. So I went to the Travelodge by the railway station and took a room there.’