‘No.’

‘You sure?’

‘My client has already answered—’

She ignored him. ‘She’d have been better off with you, wouldn’t she? Younger, better-looking, more what she needed. Give her what her husband couldn’t.’

‘Maybe but I . . .’

‘Is that what you argued about in the Odeon?’

‘No.’

‘But you were in the Odeon with her?’

‘Yes. No, I . . .’

‘You were in the Odeon with her, you argued and you killed her.’

‘DI Narey, I must speak to my client alone.’

‘You argued, you lost it and you killed her. Maybe you didn’t mean it. Was it an accident?’

‘Yes! It was an accident. I swear.’

Doull was red-faced with frustration. ‘Don’t say another word! This interview is suspended until I speak to my client. I insist.’

Narey looked to Addison who stood up, smiling, and spoke to the tape. ‘Interview suspended . . . again . . . at 14.56. Doull, maybe you can find out what else he hasn’t told you and then we might not have to stop every five minutes. I’m going to the pub at six.’

The lawyer scowled but said nothing.

On their return, McCormack was sitting pale and clearly rattled. When the tape was restarted, they found he’d changed his tune again.

‘I went to the Odeon with Jennifer Cairns on the night she died.’

‘Why were you there?’ Narey gave him no time to relax.

McCormack glanced at Doull who nodded. ‘We went there to explore the building.’

‘You’re an urbexer. An urban explorer.’

‘Yes.’

‘And why did you take Mrs Cairns along?’

‘I . . . she wanted to know what it was like. I’d told her what I did.’

‘Showing off? Playing the big man?’

‘DI Narey—’

‘It’s okay. Yes, maybe that. But she was interested. Excited. She wanted to try it. So I took her to the Odeon. She enjoyed it. She liked the fact we were in there all alone. No one could know we were in there. Especially her husband. His . . . our offices were just a few hundred yards away and yet—’

‘Did you have sex in there?’

He hesitated before nodding.

‘Out loud, please, Mr McCormack.’

‘Yes. Yes, we had sex. Being in there . . . it turned us on. We had sex. It was natural.’

‘That’s so lovely. It didn’t stay very lovely though, did it? You began arguing, is that right?’

More hesitation. Tears began rolling down the man’s face.

‘We argued. We had a fight. About telling Douglas. I didn’t want . . . it wasn’t that I wanted her to leave him there and then but maybe one day. That was all. She lost it. Began shouting and screaming. Completely irrational. She started to run and slipped on the stairs. She hit her head. Twice. From one step to the next.’

No one else in the room said a word. They all just looked at McCormack.

‘That’s what happened. I didn’t do it. She fell.’

‘She hit two steps?’ Narey asked. ‘Are you sure it was two?’

‘Yes I . . .’ McCormack froze mid-sentence. ‘Maybe not. I’m not sure. It all happened very quickly.’

‘So maybe more? Or maybe fewer?’

‘Don’t answer, David.’ Doull put an arm out in front of his client, part protection, part speech barrier.

‘I’m not sure,’ McCormack repeated. ‘I was in shock.’

‘Right. Of course you were. Let’s leave that for now. But we will come back to it. Maybe once you’ve had a chance to think of a number. What did you do next? You didn’t phone for an ambulance and the police. Why not?’

‘I panicked. I was scared. I covered her up and I got out of there. I know it was wrong but I didn’t know what to do. After I’d left it was too late. Anyway, it wasn’t going to bring Jen back. It wouldn’t have helped anyone.’

‘It might have helped your partner. He was left with no idea of what had happened to his wife. He was left not knowing her body was rotting away just that few hundred yards from his office.’

McCormack’s head fell to his chest, as if he was unable to face it or her.

‘Look at me, Mr McCormack. Please.’ He did so. ‘Did anyone see you leaving the building? Did you then or later discover that anyone knew you’d been there?’

He looked her straight in the eye the way people do when they are lying and trying to convince you otherwise. ‘No. At least if anyone did then I never knew about it.’

‘Okay. Do you or did you know a man named Euan Hepburn? Don’t bother looking at your lawyer, Mr McCormack. He doesn’t know whether you knew Euan Hepburn or not. Only you know that. So, did you?’

‘I don’t think so. I may have met him through urbexing but we don’t always know someone else’s real name so I can’t be sure.’

Deniability. She knew that was the game he was playing. And he’d play it again.

‘What about Remy Feeks? Did you know him?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You really don’t seem to know very much, Mr McCormack.’

‘DI Narey—’

‘Do you think you ever met Remy Feeks?’

‘I might have done, yes.’

‘And where do you think you might have met him?’

‘I’m not sure.’

Narey nodded and nibbled at her lip. She made a show of looking down and checking her notes. ‘Were you in Oran Mor last week, Mr McCormack?’

She saw the reaction in his eyes. Surprise. He began to turn towards his lawyer but he stopped himself and took a breath instead.

‘Yes I was.’

Now it was Doull’s turn to react. He again didn’t know where the questioning was going and he didn’t like it. Narey saw him on edge and ready to dive in. She’d make sure she beat him to it.

‘Why were you there, Mr McCormack?’

‘I was having a drink with some friends.’

‘Friends?’

‘Acquaintances. I didn’t know all of them.’

‘Was Remy Feeks among them?’

He tugged at his collar, his hands betraying him. ‘I can’t be sure.’

‘Was there a man among your group of acquaintances who identified himself as Remy Feeks?’

The question seemed to prove difficult. McCormack deliberated, weighing up his options and finding that he had none.

‘Yes. I think there was. I barely spoke to him though.’

‘Mr Feeks was murdered in the grounds of the former Gray Dunn biscuit factory. Are you familiar with that site? Have you heard of it?’

‘I think so, yes. I’m an architect. I know buildings.’

‘Uh huh. You know buildings. Do you also know the Molendinar Burn?

‘Of course.’

‘So you know of the Gray Dunn building, you know of the Molendinar, you admit you were in the Odeon. These are all known urbexing sites, are they not, Mr McCormack?’

He shrugged. ‘Yes, I suppose they are.’

‘You suppose. You know they are. Here’s what I think happened. You left Mrs Cairns’ body in the Odeon and on the way out you were seen by Mr Hepburn who was also there to explore the building before it was demolished. You either saw him and knew he’d seen you or you later found out he’d been there at the same time.’

‘No.’

‘You knew he could put you at the scene of the death and you were scared.’

‘No!’

‘You befriended Mr Hepburn through the OtherWorld site. We know you had two aliases on the site, Spook, which you’d used before, and JohnDivney, which you created exclusively to talk to Hepburn. You went urbexing with him then either you or he suggested exploring the Molendinar, probably you. You both went down there and you murdered him, leaving him there because you thought he’d never be found.’

‘No.’

‘Say nothing, Mr McCormack.’ Doull looked fit to burst.

‘You thought that might be the end of it but then Hepburn’s body was found and suddenly people were asking questions, other urbexers sticking their noses in. You knew Remy Feeks found the body, you wondered what else he knew. You were terrified now. Two bodies on your hands. You couldn’t take the risk and you killed Feeks as well. Am I right?’

McCormack looked to Doull and then turned back, his mouth stuck firmly shut and his eyes wide. The lawyer looked like he’d taken a few punches along with his client and he’d had enough.