Parker sighed. He looked tired, she realized, the skin under his eyes shadowed and thin.

He rolled his eyes at her and a small smile crept in at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Five minutes later Heather was being escorted down more anonymous corridors by a pair of burly men in uniform, Parker bringing up the rear. Eventually they passed through a series of gates, the clunk of locks and buzzing of various alarms ringing in her ears, until they stepped out into a bleak square courtyard. The ground was a mixture of dirt and gravel, and the stone walls were chipped and scratched here and there with graffiti—someone had painstakingly carved “FUCK PIGS” just to one side of the door. In the center of the shabby square was a series of large wooden planters, filled with some anonymous green bushes, and to the sides of those were two metal stands for cigarette butts, both of which were overflowing. The smell of stale tobacco and ash was powerful, but directly overhead was a bright square of blue sky and Heather found she was glad to see it.

“Heather. You’re a sight for sore eyes, lass.”

Standing by one of the walls was Michael Reave. He was wearing a dark blue long-sleeved jumper and black tracksuit bottoms. His hands were cuffed behind his back, but as he moved toward her, he was smiling easily enough. Outside, under real daylight, he looked somehow larger than he had earlier, more vital. In contrast to DI Parker, he didn’t look tired at all; he looked awake and calm, even younger than he had, and Heather felt a tremor of unease move through her. He might be caged up and constantly watched, but he was still a tall, powerfully built man, and she was sure that if he wanted to do her harm in this space—or any space—he could.

“This is where you have your breaks? Your exercise?”

Reave looked around, as if seeing it for the first time. He shrugged. “It’s one of the places. I take what I can get. And it’s a sunny day.” He smiled, and she realized this was the happiest she’d seen him. “And I have company for once.”

Taking care not to get too close, Heather took a few steps forward. Parker was just to her left, the two burly officers just behind her. “I wondered, Michael, if you could tell me some more about what my mum was like. When she was young. Now she’s gone, I feel like …” She made a point of looking down at her feet, then back up at him, the sun in her eyes. “I don’t know, I feel like I’ve missed a lot, you know?”

He nodded slowly, his face softening a touch. For a long moment, no one said anything. From somewhere behind them Heather could hear the harsh buzz as doors were unlocked and locked again, deeper in the building.

“Colleen,” said Reave eventually, “was kind. Softhearted. She was an educated woman. At least, she was to me. I liked to listen to her talk about stories, about what they meant to her.” He paused, and turned to look in the direction of the planter, although Heather didn’t think he was seeing it. “It didn’t matter to her that I hadn’t had no schooling to speak of. She never judged me for it. She would just share things. That was what your mum was like.”