‘Couldn’t you give us a little more time?’

Perez shook his head. ‘Sorry.’ If Poppy was going to confess to killing her stepmother, best that it happen quickly. He could be on the phone to the Fiscal and explain that there was no mystery here, no need for drama. A disturbed adolescent with a knife. In big cities almost a commonplace. They could make arrangements for Poppy’s care on the island and decide what would happen to her once they were able to get her off. Then he could start worrying about what he should do with Angela’s body.

‘I’m so sorry.’ The girl looked up at him with smudged panda eyes. He said nothing. Let her tell it in her own words and her own time. He supposed he should caution her, but this was hardly a formal interview and her father was with her to protect her interests.

‘I spoiled your engagement party,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to. It was stupid. Childish.’

‘Angela’s dead,’ he said. ‘More important than a party.’

‘I’m sorry about that too.’ She looked up at her father. ‘I didn’t like her much but she didn’t deserve to be killed. I can’t apologize for that, though. I didn’t do it. I wasn’t responsible.’ Her voice was very quiet but it was reasonable. It was hard to believe that this was the overwrought young woman who’d caused such a scene the night before.

‘I know, sweetheart.’ Maurice stroked the hair away from his daughter’s face. ‘I know you couldn’t do anything like that.’

Perez watched. He imagined how tense and claustrophobic it must have been in this apartment in the days leading up to Angela’s murder. An enclosed space inside the enclosed space of the lighthouse. Sealed off from the rest of the island by two lots of walls. And inside, three people tied by family, but pulled apart by opposing desires and needs. The stress, he thought, must have been unbearable. There would have been little reason in the conversation then. His mind flicked again to the child who would soon be his stepchild. Fran’s daughter Cassie was six and having a holiday with her father now. Would Perez still be able to love her if she was a large, awkward teenager?

‘Did Angela want children?’ The question was directed at Maurice, over Poppy’s head, and was out before he’d had time to consider the tactlessness of asking it in the girl’s presence.

‘No. I explained earlier, she wasn’t the maternal type. Far too selfish.’ Maurice looked up at Perez and gave a little smile. ‘I still thought of her as a child herself. A brilliant, adorable, precocious child.’

‘I need to talk about Angela. About why someone might have wanted her dead.’

‘Of course you do, Jimmy.’ There was something patronizing in the tone. Of course. Play your little games if it makes you happy.

‘It must be important to you too.’

‘ To find out who killed her? No, not right now. I’m trying to work out how I can survive without her. Revenge might come later.’