‘I didn’t do it.’
Fisher was watching her closely.
‘So, you went straight home?’
‘I did.’
‘And then what?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Did you confess to your wife?’
‘No.’
‘Why not? You knew you’d just been caught attempting to cheat. Why didn’t you tell her? Get it off your chest straight away? Shape the narrative?’
‘I was thinking about it.’
‘Or did you think there was no need to tell your wife? That Nadine Cowley wouldn’t be talking to anyone?’
‘No comment,’ Butler said after Fisher tapped his arm.
‘So, you went straight upstairs pretending to be ill?’
‘I needed to think.’
Kim consulted the written statement from Lucinda Butler. ‘Apparently, you got straight into the shower before even greeting your wife. She came up to check that you were okay.’
‘I felt dirty.’
‘You weren’t trying to wash off some other kind of?—’
‘No comment.’
Kim decided to change direction. His clothes and shoes had been bagged for tests, and they’d have those results soon enough.
‘Sunday night, nine o’clock. Where were you?’
‘At home with Lucinda.’
‘Ah, that’s not what she says,’ Kim said, moving to the third page of the woman’s statement. ‘She says she made a mistake and that she went to bed early and doesn’t remember you coming to bed.’
‘Sh-she’s lying,’ Butler said, even though Fisher had tapped him on the arm. ‘Can’t you see that? She’s angry with me and just wants to get back at me.’
‘She’d implicate you in murder just for revenge?’
Fisher coughed.
Kim felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, but there was nothing more important than what she was doing right now.
‘Ultimately, we have two women who had angered you and are now dead. Can you explain that?’
‘No comment.’
‘You have nothing else you want to say?’
‘No.’
