‘So, what would you like?’ Bryant asked as they stood outside interview room one.

‘What I’d like is to get my hands on those Reeboks and see if they match the boot print on Cordell’s jacket. And then I’d like to check ’em for blood.’

Penn’s call had informed her the print was a match for the exact type of shoe he was wearing, but to confirm a match she needed the actual pair of shoes used to make the print.

‘Yeah, dream on. I meant good cop, bad cop. What’re we doing?’

‘Policing in the twenty-first century would be a good one,’ she said, raising an eyebrow, before entering the room.

‘Thank you for your patience, Mr Mancini,’ Kim said, pleasantly, as she took a seat opposite him.

‘As you know, you’re here voluntarily just to answer a few questions. You’re free to leave at any time, do you understand?’

He visibly relaxed at her tone.

‘Sir, you understand we’re investigating the murder of Doctor Gordon Cordell and your family appears to have a recent grievance against his actions.’

‘He had a grievance against us, but we didn’t fucking—’

‘Mr Mancini, you were very agitated yesterday on your father’s behalf.’

‘Too bloody right.’

‘Can you explain why you were so angry at Doctor Cordell?’

‘Not so much him. He was an arrogant, conceited wanker and got exactly what he deserved to be honest. He lied about my father who had discovered his filthy little secret and tried to destroy him just so he wouldn’t get found out. But I’m more angry with that fucking Medical Director woman for just tossing out my dad like that without even listening to him. Thing is, my dad wasn’t gonna say anything anyway. He’s seen all sorts of stuff but just keeps quiet, goes about his business and cleans up people’s shit.’

‘I think Vanessa Wilson has procedures to follow,’ she explained.

‘I don’t give a fuck about procedures,’ he spat. ‘My dad left that place feeling like a liar and a thief and he doesn’t bloody deserve that.’

‘Okay, Mr Mancini,’ Kim said, calmly. He was a passionate man, quick to temper and she didn’t want him walking out yet. Not before she’d got those shoes.

‘She’s a tight-assed bitch who treated my dad like shit.’

He lurched forward, taking her by surprise. ‘Do you have any idea how many times he’s worked a double shift because someone called in sick? Oh, can’t mention that because it’s illegal. How many times he stayed late because some new kid hadn’t been able to stick to the schedule. And he never complained once. You know why? Because he was grateful. He was so thankful to have a job he just kept his mouth shut and got on with it. And they all called him a fucking thief,’ he said, shaking his head.

‘All?’ Kim probed gently.

‘Yeah, Cordell, his whore and the fucking director bitch. They’re all as bad as each other.’

‘And your father was definitely with you on Monday evening?’ Kim asked.

The shift in questions caused a momentary lapse in concentration. He seemed to hesitate before nodding.

‘We were together at home, watching telly.’

‘Okay, Mr Mancini, and where were you both yesterday afternoon?’

He frowned at her. His dark eyebrows within touching distance. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not going to answer that.’

‘But surely you can recall where you were this time yesterday?’

‘I didn’t say I couldn’t answer it, I said I wouldn’t, now I think it’s time—’

‘Okay, sir, no problem,’ Kim said, reassuringly. ‘At present, I only have one more question to ask, okay?’

He nodded his agreement.

‘Giovanni, may I please borrow your Reeboks?’

His face darkened even further as he began to shake his head.

‘No, officer. I’m afraid you may not.’