“I’d had a few drinks, too, so maybe I was a bit drunk, I don’t know. You know how you get these ideas fixed in your mind and you can’t get rid of them. The idea of her with them just wouldn’t go away.”

“Was this the first time you knew anything about what she was doing, her connection with the grooming gang?”

“Yes. She never said anything to me.”

“I don’t suppose she would,” Annie said. “But hadn’t you noticed any change in her over the past few months?”

“She was a bit more sophisticated, but I put that down to . . . well . . .”

“You? The Henry Higgins effect?”

Warner looked away. “I suppose so.”

“Anything else?”

“She was more moody. I didn’t really see a lot of her, so it’s hard to say.”

“Was she avoiding you?”

“I think so.”

“So what did you do on Tuesday night?”

“I slipped Albert a roofie, like you said. It was easy enough. He was out in no time.”

“Why did you do that?”

“So I could take the van without him knowing.”

“Why did it matter whether he knew or not?”

“I . . . I . . .”

“Were you planning to do something to Mimosa at this time?”

“No. No way. I just couldn’t get the image out of my head. Her with them. I thought I might get into it with the Pakis, break a few bones, but there was no way I was going to hurt Mimsy.”

“Why didn’t you take your own van?”

“Because it’s got my name splashed all over the fucking side. I know about CCTV on the roads and all that. They can even get your number plate.”

“You didn’t want to be seen, didn’t want to be on record?”

“Well, no.”

“Why not? Unless you were planning to do something illegal.”

“I told you. All I wanted to do was see if Mimsy was there, reason with her, but I thought I might get into a rumble with the Pakis. If I hurt one of them really bad, maybe the police would try to find me. Why make it easy? The Pakis could beat seven shades of shit out of me and that would be fine. I’d deserve it. But if I do it to them it’s not only GBH, it’s a fucking hate crime, too. Racism.”

“But you are a racist, Paul.”

“I’m entitled to my opinions. I’m not the only one.”

“That’s a spurious argument. Never mind. So Albert Moffat had nothing to do with Mimsy’s murder at all? You didn’t take his van in order to implicate him?”

“No. But I told you, it wasn’t murder. I didn’t mean to kill her.”

“I forgot. It was an accident, right? Kicking her to death. How did you know Mimosa was going to get in a van with three Asian men that night?”