Leighton Matthews’ solicitor was a heavy-set woman with a bottle-blonde bob and a manner that suggested she considered time spent at the station wasted time. Somehow, Matthews seemed easily able to fool the women in his life into believing he was an innocent man victimised by circumstance. Intelligent, educated women such as his colleague, Anna Stapleton, and his solicitor, Frankie Piper, seemed taken in by his ‘poor me’ act.

Alex watched him across the table; he was scowling at her while surreptitiously checking the clock on the far wall.

Perhaps it was his charm, she thought.

‘I’d like to refer back to the email sent to you by Keira North.’

‘I believe my client has already discussed that matter with you,’ Frankie said, pushing a length of blonde hair from her face.

‘Yes,’ Alex said, ‘but I’d like to go over it again. You say you never saw the essay Keira claimed to have left in your office.’

Leighton Matthews shook his head.

‘Keira writes in her email that she left it on your desk. Do you often leave your office unlocked?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘I work in a university, not a prison.’

‘What about this?’ Alex asked, reaching for the file on the table and removing the copy of Leah North’s essay given to her by Anna Stapleton. ‘Do you recognise it?’

Alex had read the piece. It was the opening of a novel, moody and angst-ridden; more the rantings of a disgruntled teen than the work of a literature student. She had also read half a chapter from Anna Stapleton’s copy of Resurrection, Leighton Matthews’ masterpiece. Apparently it was about one man’s descent into madness, although the opening of the book had been enough to make her feel she was likely to lose parts of her mind too if she carried on reading any further.

She was no literary expert – whatever reading she got to do mostly involved suspect profiles and case histories – but she was pretty certain Leah Cross’s efforts hadn’t been worthy of a first.

Matthews took a look at the work. ‘Yes, of course I recognise it. I marked it.’

‘Got a good grade, did it?’

He said nothing. Frankie Piper was watching Alex questioningly. ‘I’m not sure how any of this is relevant.’

‘There’s been a suggestion you may have awarded Leah Cross an undeserved mark.’

‘This is ridiculous.’ Leighton Matthews shoved back his chair and glared angrily across the table at Alex. ‘You’ve dragged me in here to question my marking? Am I under arrest?’

‘No.’

‘So I’m free to go?’

‘Your car is still with forensics,’ Alex reminded him. She gave him a smile. ‘Even the best valets sometimes miss a bit.’

Matthews had been ready to stand from his seat; now he eased back, sighing heavily.

‘It’s in your interests to cooperate with us on this, Mr Matthews. We’re trying to find out the truth about what happened to Keira North as well as who was responsible for the hit-and-run that left Leah Cross in hospital. Cooperating may mean we’re able to eliminate you from enquiries more quickly.’

Alex didn’t believe for a second this was true. She suspected Leighton Matthews was hiding something; they just needed to find out what it was. She imagined he’d spent much of his adult life walking away from the chaos he’d created, never having to face the consequences of his choices. The line he’d given them about his car having cut out several times during recent weeks had been yet another of his lies; told so casually, as she imagined all his lies were.

‘Did your wife know about your relationship with your student Natalie Sanderson?’

The question appeared to throw Matthews off balance. He’d known the police would have access to the details of Siobhan O’Leary’s allegations against him, but had seemingly believed them ignorant of his affair with another former student.

He glanced awkwardly at Frankie. ‘Can they ask about this?’

She shrugged. ‘They can ask. You don’t have to answer. But if you want to prove your innocence, I suggest you talk about it now.’

Obviously Frankie Piper already knew of his extramarital affair, although Alex doubted there had only been the one. She wondered how many times this solicitor had been called upon by Matthews for advice. One thing seemed certain: even Piper was now starting to doubt him.

‘Yes, she knew about it,’ Leighton answered reluctantly. ‘I mean, not while it was going on, not at first. She found out later.’

‘How did she find out?’

‘She … I still don’t know why this is relevant. I never met Keira North and I know Leah Cross from my classes. That’s all. We’re just going around in circles here.’

There was a knock at the door and DC Daniel Mason popped his head into the room. ‘Boss, sorry to interrupt … have you got a minute?’

Alex went out into the corridor and closed the interview room door behind him. ‘I’m not going to get anything out of him,’ she said. ‘It’s like pulling bloody teeth.’

‘You might not need to,’ Dan said.

She followed him upstairs to the main incident room, where they went to Dan’s computer. ‘Traffic lights near the College Arms in Treforest,’ he said. ‘Six minutes past twelve – five minutes after Leah was apparently hit by the car.’

Alex looked at the image paused on the screen. It had been taken from CCTV at a set of pedestrian-crossing traffic lights near the pub and showed a black Ford Kuga driving south towards Cardiff. The number plate was perfectly visible; this time, all of it. It was a match with Leighton Matthews’ car.

She gave Dan a grateful smile. ‘Let’s see how he tries to talk himself out of this one.’