‘Perhaps Father Popov explained why I asked to see you, Mrs Harsson?’

She remained silent, either not caring to answer my question or unaware it was a question at all. I was starting to wonder if Esteberg was the only place in Reikova where questions – and when to answer them – were clear and well-defined.

‘Your son, Gregory, and his day-brother, Jan,’ I said. ‘There has been an incident.’

‘Aye,’ Mrs Harsson said gruffly, her voice pitched as low as any bargeman on the Esterly river.

‘You are aware of what has happened?’ I said, unable to hide my surprise.

‘Serves him right,’ Mrs Harsson said, ‘after wha’ he did.’

‘I… I’m not sure I understand,’ I said.

Father Popov cleared his throat. ‘Jan’s sins affected more than just himself and his night-brother. Mrs Harsson was also cast out from her employment at the manor.’

‘But you did nothing wrong,’ I said.

‘Course not. Them Eder,’ Mrs Harsson made to spit at the name, ‘they’re no good. Thirty years I scrubbed an’ washed tha’ house. Then, gone.’ She was rocking in her chair now, not frantically but steadily and I wondered if the rhythm was working to keep her temper in check.

‘Forgive me, Mrs Harsson, but I must ask: at what hour was your son born?’

Father Popov winced, but before he could object Mrs Harsson answered.

‘He was a night-baby, if tha’s what you’re askin’.’

‘And his father?’

‘Buried him two years back, God rest his soul.’

‘I see. And your day-sister, did she and Jan care for each other?’

‘Far as I know.’

The fire crackled and sputtered behind me, and it was growing a little too warm for comfort so I crossed to the other chair and sat. ‘Did Jan or Gregory have any enemies in Drekenford? Anyone who would wish them harm?’ I said.

Mrs Harsson glanced at the Father. ‘Not tha’ I heard,’ she said.

‘But you said it “served him right”, what did you mean by that?’

‘Just tha’ – you do wrong, wrong is done unto you.’

‘Is that the church’s position?’ I said to Father Popov.

‘Jan committed a sin,’ he said smoothly. ‘He was judged guilty by his peers, and will be judged by the Lord Almighty, as will we all. Now, do you have any more questions, Inspector?’

‘One. Did your son have a sweetheart, Mrs Harsson? Day or night?’

‘Not tha’ I knew of,’ she said, looking down at her lap.

I judged she was lying.

‘They are handsome men,’ I said. ‘Surely they caught the attention of a young woman or two, in a town as small as this?’

‘Couldn’t say,’ she mumbled. ‘Weren’t none of my business.’

‘I see. Thank you, Mrs Harsson,’ I said, deciding against pushing her further, especially in front of the Father. But her reluctance clearly suggested the topic was one of some significance, and one I would return to.

Father Popov led me out, leaving the old woman sitting in front of the fire. She looked even smaller as I left, like she was curling in on herself. I felt a jab of pity then at the vulnerable loneliness of that room.