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‘I was saving up to get a bike,’ Palmer said, looking down at the table.

‘We had the money in your wallet examined for fingerprints, and yours were on it.’

‘Of course they were!’ Palmer replied, obviously confused, as was Baldwin.

‘So were Johan De Klerk’s, along with marks from the Sealskinz gloves, which were next to your prints on one of the notes. Our fingerprint expert said the odds of that happening by chance are a million to one.’

‘I don’t understand what you’re saying! You’re confusing me!’ Palmer’s voice had risen noticeably.

‘The money in your wallet must have been in Mr De Klerk’s possession at some point, and the only reasonable explanation is that you broke into his house, assaulted him and stole his money.’

‘No, no, this is not right. You must have put the stolen money in my wallet as well!’ Palmer shouted.

Baldwin put a hand on his arm. ‘Just stay calm, Liam, this is all evidence not disclosed to me before the interview.’

Chapman shrugged, ‘Life is full of surprises, Mr Baldwin. We also found De Klerk’s fingerprints and some from the gloves on the cash hidden under the sink, again indicating it was taken from Mr De Klerk’s house. The gloves and the trainers haven’t been recovered because Liam disposed of them, probably when he set light to the Range Rover.’ He looked at Liam, steely-eyed.

Palmer looked genuinely scared as he turned to Baldwin. ‘No, no, he’s lying. I didn’t do it. This is all a fit-up.’ Jessica had to admit she was enjoying watching Palmer squirm and was impressed by how Chapman had confronted him bit by bitwith the incriminating evidence. It reminded her of Commander Williams’s remarks about ‘boiling the frog’.

‘Do you own any other mobile phones besides the one you had on you when arrested?’

‘No . . .’ he said nervously.

Chapman put a photograph of the phone recovered from Palmer’s flat on the table.

‘This is a burner phone. Have you seen it before?’

‘No, never.’

‘It’s been used to communicate solely through WhatsApp messages and calls with another burner phone. The first message received on it last Friday said, “he’s going away Saturday morning, back Monday”. Johan De Klerk was due to be away from his home over that period but cancelled his trip at the last minute.’ He tapped the photo, ‘The reply sent from this phone was, “will do job early hours Monday.” Then, on Monday at four a.m., not long after the break-in, this same phone sent a message saying, “job done, call later”.’ Chapman paused to let it all sink in.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ Liam protested. ‘I’m telling the truth. I swear to God I don’t know anything about that phone.’

Chapman raised his eyes. ‘It was also used to call the other burner at 3.10 p.m. on Monday and last used on Tuesday at 3.48 a.m. A message saying, “car torched” was sent to the other . . .’

‘For fuck’s sake, I’ve never made any calls or sent messages on that phone! Why are you doing this to me?’ Liam screeched.

‘Has cell site analysis been done on the phone you allegedly found at Liam’s flat?’ Baldwin asked Chapman.

‘Some, yes, but it’s still ongoing. I can tell you it was switched off at eight p.m. last night. The last recorded location at that time was a cell mast in Montague Road, fifty metres from where Liam lives.’ Chapman placed another photo on the table. ‘Is that yourbathroom toilet cistern, Liam?’ He nodded, looking confused by the question. He started rubbing his eyes nervously. ‘We found the burner phone in a waterproof bag hidden inside the cistern. Our lab said it had been wiped clean of fingerprints and DNA. Can you explain how it got there?’

Baldwin put his hand on Liam’s arm to stop him from talking, but he shrugged him off and exploded with rage, swiping his hand across the table and scattering the photographs across the floor.

‘It’s you!’ he shouted. ‘You put it there. You put everything in my flat to frame me!’ His lips were flecked with spittle and he seemed close to tears.

‘We found these Adidas tracksuit bottoms and this hoodie in the communal bin at John Walsh Tower. Do they belong to you?’ Chapman asked, holding up a photo.

‘No, they don’t, and you know it!’ Liam wailed.

‘The clothes had blood on them, which is being DNA tested. We believe it will be Johan De Klerk’s blood, and we believe the clothing is yours.’

‘I never went to his house or stabbed him.’ Liam sank his head in his hands and started to cry.

Chapman didn’t say anything. ‘Can you tell me how Liam came to be a suspect?’ Baldwin asked Anderson.

‘Anonymous information to Crime Stoppers after a press release. The informant said a man called Liam was trying to sell a Rolex watch to him in a local pub on Monday and . . .’

‘I told you that, I fucking told you I was in the pub Monday lunchtime!’ Liam burst out. ‘But I didn’t try to sell anyone a watch. You can ask the landlady, Pauline. She’ll tell you I’m not lying.’