‘At the moment we’re looking at a number of lines of inquiry,’ Constable King said, which of course told us nothing that we didn’t already know. She turned to me. ‘Have you received anything like this?’

I shook my head. ‘No, nothing like that all.’

‘But you’ve been out all morning, you said,’ Julie interjected. ‘Maybe something’s been delivered and you just don’t know about it.’

She was right, of course, so I agreed to call home and ask Paul. I hoped he’d tell me no. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe while I waited for the phone to be answered. I wasn’t expecting Molly’s baby voice to pick up.

‘Mammy! When will you be home? I miss you a hundred and a million and can we go swimming or to the library?’

The sound of her voice didn’t soothe me as it normally did – everything about her was pure and innocent and I couldn’t help but feel it was all under threat.

‘Hi, baby,’ I said, trying my very best to keep my voice normal. ‘I’ll be home in a bit and sure, we can make some plans then. Is Daddy there?’

She didn’t answer. I could just hear the sound of her feet running across the wooden flooring in the hall down to the kitchen and her calling ‘Daadddeee, Mammy’s on the phone.’

‘Paul, this might sound a little strange,’ I said as soon as he picked up, ‘but have any flowers arrived for me this morning?’

‘As it happens, yes,’ he said and my heart sank.

I nodded at Constable King and saw Julie put her head in her hands from the corner of my eyes.

‘A bunch of blue flowers; they look like wild flowers. Is there something you want to tell me?’ he said with a false-sounding laugh. ‘Have you a bit on the side or a secret admirer?’

‘Are they tied with ribbon?’ I asked, ignoring his question.

‘No. Well, sort of. They’re tied with twine and then some black ribbon. I’d say whoever paid for these hasn’t the best taste in florists.’

I sat down, my legs shaky beneath me. I asked him if there was a card attached and if he could read it to me. I waited until he spoke.

‘Well, this is a nonsense,’ he said.

‘What does it say?’

‘It’s some stupid rhyme or something …’

‘What does it say, Paul?’

‘Everything is a source of fun. Nobody’s safe, we care for none.’

I lifted a pen from the coffee table and scribbled the words on the back of an envelope.

‘Rachel, what’s going on?’ Paul asked. ‘What’s all this about?’

‘It’s to do with Clare. I don’t know exactly what it means, but, look, I’ve to talk to the police. I’ll talk to you when I get home.’