An hour or so later I left the two of them chatting and made my way to the police station. After waiting ten or fifteen minutes I was greeted by Detective Bailey and taken through to an interview room. He gave me the usual spiel about not being under arrest and that I was free to leave at any time I wished. He then explained that he would not be carrying out the interview himself and that the officers from the unit investigating Brendan’s murder would be through to speak to me shortly. As I waited, I reflected on the fact that if I were one of my own clients I would be advising myself to give a ‘no comment’ interview. Maybe I should heed my own advice and do the same.

The door opened and there they were in all their dreary glory, Detectives Wilmott and Cowley. Cowley was on the phone as he entered, finishing a call.

‘That is very interesting indeed, and perfect timing if you don’t mind me saying. I’ll get back to you as soon as this is finished’ were the final words of his telephone conversation.

As before, it was Cowley who did most of the speaking, Wilmott seeming more interested in his burger and milkshake than in me.

‘Hello again, Gary. My name is Detective Peterson from the Lewisham Serious Crimes Unit, and my colleague here is Detective Rowlett. Forgive us for our late arrival but we are not familiar with the layout at this station and took one or two false turns.’

‘I thought you were Wilmott and Cowley?’

‘Yes, we are from time to time, but that needn’t concern you, Gary,’ said Peterson (né Cowley). ‘It’s just an operational peculiarity that’s employed from time to time. It sometimes helps us catch the bad guys, and you would want us to do that, wouldn’t you, Gary?’

‘So, when it suits you to do so, you use false names and ID? It sounds dodgy to me but, yes, I want you to catch the bad guys. So, how can I help you?’

Peterson continued:

‘Gary, we want you to understand that this investigation is very complicated and very sensitive. We really need your co-operation. Are you willing to co-operate, Gary?’

‘Yes, of course, I’ve got nothing to hide.’

Rowlett (né Wilmott) barked out a laugh and in doing so spat a chunk of bread and burger onto the surface of the table. He reached his hand over and grasped the morsel between his finger and thumb and placed it back in his mouth.

‘Are you not going to caution me and read me my rights?’ I asked.

‘No need for that yet, Gary, this is just an informal chat. We value your cooperation greatly, so let’s just keep it nice and relaxed,’ replied Peterson.

‘Okay then, fire away,’ I replied, pretending that I didn’t have a care in the world.