I didn’t want to be hunting Daniel. To be talking about whether he’d killed his own brother as well as Violet, and Gary, and possibly even someone buried in the woods as well. He was the first person I’d felt anything for in years, if I discounted my completely inappropriate and thoroughly suppressed feelings for Jai. Everyone sometimes got people wrong. We could all be misled. In fact it always made me laugh watching the TV shows with the ‘genius’ detectives who could supposedly spot a killer at ten paces. You gave me a funny look or blinked in a weird way, so you’re clearly a murdering psychopath who slaughtered your entire family, including the dog. Nobody could reliably identify a killer, and we had to follow the evidence. But that didn’t stop me feeling utterly dejected about my appalling judgement.

Daniel’s mother, Gwen, sat very still while Fiona sorted out the tape and took her through the formalities. She had a thick sweep of long grey hair and eyes that had the same faraway look as her son’s.

‘He didn’t do those things, you know.’ She spoke slowly as if checking each word as it came out. ‘I’m sure all mothers say the same, but he isn’t a killer. He just gets a bit … over-focused.’

‘Do you have any idea where he might be, Gwen?’ I asked.

She shook her head.

‘Any special place he might go? Any idea at all, no matter how unlikely.’

‘I’m sorry. I haven’t seen him for so long.’

‘What happens when he gets over-focused?’ Fiona asked.

Gwen looked down. ‘Nothing bad happens. Nothing bad happens when Daniel gets over-focused.’ Her voice had an almost hypnotic tone, as if she was repeating a mantra. It made me nervous.

‘Any places he used to go as a child?’ I said.

‘No. I don’t know. I just keep praying I didn’t put that Violet girl in harm’s way.’

Fiona said, ‘How would you have done that?’

‘She called me. The girl Violet. She found out that I lived in the village in 1999. She asked me if I knew who Rebecca Smith was. I told her that would be Tony Nightingale’s daughter.’

So that solved one mystery. Gwen had put Violet on to Tony Nightingale.

‘The poor girl,’ Gwen said. ‘I pray for her every day.’

‘When did you last see Daniel?’ Fiona asked.

Gwen blinked a couple of times. ‘Many years ago. I can’t visit Gritton.’

‘Why not?’

‘Terrible things happen in Gritton. My little boy. Nothing was ever the same after my little boy … After Charlie died.’

Fiona waited a moment and said, ‘Charlie fell down the spillway in the reservoir?’

Gwen was quiet and I didn’t think she was going to answer. Then she spat the words out, fast and shocking compared to her previous calmness. ‘She killed him!’