‘Give me half an hour?’ When I nod, he goes on. ‘I’ll shoot over there then.’

‘Thanks. Just check she’s OK. Reassure her that we’re keeping her husband in tonight.’

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the DI coming down the corridor towards me. ‘Right. Let’s do this. Are they in there?’

I nod. ‘I’ve just had a call from Elise Buckley. Hollie did take Niamh into the grounds of Mason’s house. She must have known he was up to something.’

‘If Buckley’s involved, we need to nail him now.’ His face is grim. ‘From everything you’ve said, he’s hiding something. I want to know what it is.’

*

Andrew Buckley’s lawyer is tall with short black hair. He stands when we walk in. ‘I’m Hamish McClure. On behalf of my client, I’d like to stress he strongly objects to being brought here.’

‘Believe me, we have several very good reasons for keeping you here, Doctor Buckley.’ The DI speaks abruptly. ‘We will be recording this interview.’ He glances at McClure but speaks to me. ‘Start the tape, May.’

While the DI gives the normal preamble for the tape, I watch the look of disdain on Buckley’s face, knowing he believes himself to be above the law. That’s how people like him operate.

‘Doctor Buckley, did you or did you not hit your wife three days ago?’

He folds his arms. ‘As I’ve stated before, my wife had too much to drink and fell as she was coming down the stairs.’

‘We’ve spoken to the hospital staff who looked after her. General consensus is that she was the subject of a vicious assault. We also have photos.’

Reaching into a brown envelope, I pull out the photos the hospital sent over.

Andrew Buckley looks furious. ‘Who took those? I didn’t give them permission.’

‘Your permission wasn’t required. We had your wife’s.’ I pause as McClure glances at them. ‘According to the doctor who admitted her, you tried to play down what were clearly significant injuries. But you must have been worried enough to take her in. Did you realise you’d gone too far? Or did you think everyone would believe your story?’ When he doesn’t answer, I go on. ‘There was another injury to Mrs Buckley’s stomach. She was in considerable pain.’

‘She fell awkwardly. That isn’t proof of anything.’ Andrew Buckley glares at me.

‘No. But a fist-sized bruise is, Doctor Buckley.’ I pause. ‘She also told us that you cancelled a rental agreement she’d recently signed. It was one you had no right to interfere with. You told the estate agent they could keep the rent she’d paid up front, then you called her employer and told them her mental state was questionable. Did you discuss any of this with your wife first?’