Fred looked at his sister. Julia was still playing with her bricks, seemingly entirely oblivious to the conversation taking place less than a metre away. ‘I’m not brave,’ he said again.

‘You’re very brave for telling me, Fred. Very brave.’

Fred began to cry, choking on his sobs, his eyes fixed on his sister.

‘Can I ask?’ said Bloom to Mathers, before looking at Fred. ‘Fred, why do you think you weren’t brave?’

The boy looked her way.

‘You took your sister and hid her behind you. Is that not brave?’

Fred shook his head.

‘Why not?’

‘Because …’ He looked back at his sister. ‘Because I cried.’ His voice shook and his breath caught in his throat.

‘That’s enough for now,’ said Mathers, her tone clearly intended for Bloom.

Bloom ignored her and watched the boy as he in turn watched his sister. ‘What did Julia do?’

The boy looked at Bloom with wide eyes. ‘She waved Tigger at Mummy,’ he said.

‘Tigger?’

Fred nodded.

Bloom reached for a small soft toy, a tiger with a dress on. ‘Can you show me what Julia did?’

The boy took the tiger and held it out in front of him, facing Bloom. ‘Grrrrrr,’ he said, as he shook the toy from side to side.

‘And you thought this was brave of Julia?’

‘Yes,’ said Fred, looking at his feet. ‘Because … Mummy stopped.’

Bloom felt a tightening in her chest. ‘Mummy stopped doing what, Fred?’

The boy looked up. ‘Chasing us.’

‘You think your mummy was chasing you?’ asked Mathers.

Bloom continued with her line of questioning. ‘And when Julia waved Tigger at your mummy, she stopped chasing you?’

‘Yes.’

Bloom looked at Julia building her orange Lego tower on the edge of the green mat. She was small for six, with an angelic face and honey-coloured pigtails. Bloom couldn’t help but think of elfin Seraphine Walker fighting back against her would-be rapist. She looked at Fred again. ‘What did your mummy do then?’

Fred looked at Julia. ‘She said, “Good luck to ya.”’

DI Mathers frowned at Bloom. But Bloom had a horrible feeling she knew what Faye had meant. She just needed to check one final thing.

‘Fred?’ She waited for the little boy to look her in the eye. ‘When your mummy said that … was she talking to both of you, or just to Julia?’

‘Just to Julia,’ he said without hesitation.

‘What do you think?’ asked DI Mathers as they stood in the small kitchenette waiting for the kettle to boil. ‘It’s unlikely a child would make up a story that dark, isn’t it? It looks like Faye Graham stabbed her husband in front of her children.’

Bloom filled her cup with hot water.

‘She has to be some kind of crazy. That can’t be a game,’ Mathers continued.