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 towards 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. Just being out from under a ceiling is something. And it’s a sunny day.’ He smiled, and she realized this was the happiest she’d seen him. ‘And I have pleasant company for once.’

Taking care not to get too close, Heather took a few steps forward. Parker was 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. Soft-hearted. 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.’

Heather crossed her arms over her chest, trying to keep a neutral expression on her face. It was proving difficult to match up this vision of her mother – forgiving, sweet-natured, kind – with the woman she had spent so much of her teenage life having bitter arguments with. Talking about Colleen seemed to have warmed Reave up, and he took a step towards her. Heather felt cold fingers walk down her spine as the officers shuffled closer in response, clearly uncomfortable.

‘Do you know the story of Briar Rose, lass?’

‘Another one of the Grimms’ tales?’