“Robert. Are you okay?”

He shook his head, avoiding eye contact. He blinked back rapidly forming tears, then scrubbed them away with the back of his hand.

“All right. All right.”

Aifric gave him a moment, then opened the file and prepared her notebook.

“There are a number of statements that the police intend to rely on in this case. I’d like to run through those with you. And if I mention anything that you feel is inaccurate, please let me know. Okay?” She waited for his nod. “I understand that you and Laura met for drinks at the Lonely Horse pub on the night she was last seen?”

“Yes.”

“There are statements here saying that you had an argument, and it escalated until you were shouting at each other. You lost your temper and pushed her to the ground, and then left the pub. Is that right?”

“That’s . . . No. That’s not exactly how it happened.”

“No? Your own statement is here, too, and it doesn’t contradict that account. You told the police only that you left the pub after the fight, you walked home, and you went straight to bed. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t ask you more.”

“Mr. Keyes . . . We talked before the interview at the station. He told me just to say ‘no comment’ to everything. So I did.”

“He didn’t . . . he didn’t stay with you for the interview?”

“No. Just for the first couple of minutes. Was that weird? I was just thinking: That’s not how it happens on TV. But, what could I do, like?”

“Okay.” Aifric took a breath. “So the prosecution says that you were angry with Laura because she wanted to break up with you. And that’s why you pushed her to the ground and walked out.”

“What? That’s not right at all. Look, Laura was mad at me because I wanted to go on holiday with the lads. Without her. It was such a stupid argument, but she kept going on and on at me. I’d had enough of it. I wanted to just go, but she wouldn’t let go of my wrist. Laura, she could be a bit . . . over the top.”

Aifric was taking careful notes. “So then what happened?”

Robert shrugged. “I just pulled away. Maybe I did it a bit hard, but she was pissed anyway, so she fell over her feet. I helped her up, and then she really started going off, so I just got out of there.”

“Where did you go?”

“Straight home. Back to my flat. Went to bed, like I said.”

Aifric took a breath. “So the problem there is your flatmate, Dermot. He’s given a statement to the gardaí that he was at home all night, binge-watching movies on Boxset. He says he finished up at one a.m., and knows that for sure, because he sent a text message to a friend after the last movie, just before he went to bed. He says he didn’t see you, Robert.” Aifric put her hand on the file. “The barman said you left the pub around ten p.m. And Dermot said he was at home, awake until one a.m., but didn’t see you all evening. You’ve said yourself it’s only a five-minute walk. Do you see the problem?”