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“We don’t believe you,” said Reilly, leaning forward, staring straight at the thief. “Are you working with someone, Manny, old son?”

Manny remained tight-lipped.

“Are you in partnership with Robbie Carter?” asked Reilly. “Does he have something on you? Maybe you did a job for him, cheated him out of the booty.”

“Maybe Robbie forgave you but made you a proposition,” said Gardener. “Let’s assume he and Mrs Carter weren’t seeing eye-to-eye. They were arguing all the time. He decides he wants rid of her.”

“What does all this have to do with me?”

“Robbie Carter decides to give you another chance after cheating him. He figures if he can get rid of her legitimately, the insurance will cough up, and he will also collect from the will.”

“And he gives you a nice little earner,” said Reilly. “Not bad for cheating him in the first place.”

“Only, things go wrong, don’t they, Mr Walters?” said Gardener. “Maybe you were only there to burgle the place. Get everything of any value. You sell it on. He deals with her afterwards in the wake of it all. He collects the insurance, everyone’s a winner.”

“But even the best laid plans can go wrong,” said Reilly. “So, what happened, Manny? Did she catch you? Maybe she was supposed to have gone out for the evening, meet up with a traffic accident on the way home – not sure what you two had planned.”

“She comes home early and catches you red-handed. Or maybe she didn’t go out at all. Either way, she caught you in the act and you panicked. Turned nasty.”

Silence.

“We’re not saying you meant to kill her, Mr Walters. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe she caught you upstairs in the bathroom. You two had a fight, stuff all over the floor, she falls, cracks her head. You run out, unaware that it’s a little bit more serious than your average bang on the head.”

“Is that what happened, Manny?”

Manny crushed his plastic cup. He was sweating, shaking. Gardener realised they were onto something but wasn’t sure how much more it would take to crack him. “Are you being blackmailed?”

“No one is blackmailing me,” he replied, through clenched teeth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Gardener figured he did. In his opinion, Manny Walters was a chancer. He was out for the night on the rob, came across a house with an open back door and took his chances. Only he had no idea what he was letting himself in for. Maybe he saw everything that happened, but if he did, why not admit to it? That way he would only face charges of theft. It really was puzzling the SIO.

“Is someone else pulling the strings, Manny? Is there a third party here who has a hold on all of you?”

“A minute ago I was working with Robbie Carter, now you think someone else is behind all of this shit.”

“It would explain why Robbie has disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” shouted Manny. “What the hell are you talking about now?”

“Didn’t you know?” Gardener asked. “Interesting, isn’t it? His house is burgled and his wife is killed. Then he disappears. No one has seen him; no one knows where he is. That leaves only you with a connection to the whole sorry incident. Does that mean you’re going to disappear if we let you go?”

“What do you mean I’m the only one with a connection to the incident? I’m telling you I was nowhere near that fucking house, I never pinched the stuff and I did not kill his wife.”

“Oh, dear,” said Reilly, standing up. “I think you were, Manny. I think you’re in this shit, as you call it, up to your scrawny little neck. Now the way I see it, you could talk and tell us what you know and only go down for a charge of theft.”

Manny’s eyes narrowed. The pressure was mounting.

“Or you can keep your mouth shut and perhaps end up with a murder charge.”

Manny’s eyes widened again.

“I know which I’d prefer,” said Reilly, putting his palms flat on the top of the table.

Manny ran his hands through his hair. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t happening.”

Gardener stood up, stepped back to the guitar. “I’ll tell you why we don’t believe you,” he said, pointing to the Stratocaster. “Because this guitar has your prints all over it.”

Manny jumped up and pushed his chair back, which clattered loudly as it fell over. “No way has it got my prints! It can’t have!”

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