She looked from one officer to the other, her eyes slightly unfocused. ‘That house … It was so large, and so dark, filled with shadows, and ghosts, and old stories. You could feel the dead residents in the air like so much dust you might choke on at night. Such feelings … they would make me shiver.’

Hobbes asked, ‘Did you have a nanny, or a governess?’

‘We did. Mrs Braithwaite. She lived with us, and had done for years. She even helped Mother with the births, bringing each of us into the world. There were women like that, back then. Servants, retainers, helpers. In their way, mistresses of the house.’

‘What happened to her, this Mrs …?’

‘Braithwaite. She retired. And died soon afterwards. Which meant that Adeline and I had the freedom to do as we liked.’ Camilla fell silent. And then she said, ‘I would like some water, please.’

Latimer filled a plastic tumbler and pushed it across the table.

‘Thank you.’ She drank it all in one go. ‘It’s very difficult,’ she said, ‘talking about Adeline. It’s a story of such pain and strife. It’s a wonder she lasted as long as she did.’

Latimer asked, ‘There was something wrong with her?’

Camilla looked up. Her eyes were full of darkness. ‘Not at first. We all thought she was a wonderful child, but then we heard that she was having problems at school.’

‘With discipline? Or learning difficulties?’

‘Both. But she wasn’t … I mean, she wasn’t stupid. She was intelligent, I think, in her own way. But something was holding her back. And sometimes, at home, she scared me, even when she was seven or eight … She would play the strangest games, mutilating her dolls, setting fire to books.’

Camilla shook her head, in shame of remembering, and of bringing such private things into the light.

‘It all came to a head when Adeline reached puberty. By that time, she had left school, and was living at home. She was quite the young beauty, having some of Mary Estelle’s looks. She was the only one of us girls to inherit our mother’s auburn hair. I was always jealous of that.’ A tiny smile at this thought. ‘I tried to teach her things, to keep her up to date. But she was very self-contained. She was moving away from me.’

Her hands shook. She reached for the tumbler, saw it was empty, and didn’t seem to know what to do, or even what to ask for. Latimer poured her more water.

Camilla sipped it without speaking.

Hobbes gave her a moment. He glanced at his watch. They’d been speaking for less than thirty minutes, and he felt that Camilla Greene was beginning to crack open. There was a great amount of pain in her body, and her mind.

Now he rapped his fist on the tabletop quite harshly and spoke without compassion: ‘Shall we continue.’ It wasn’t a question.

Camilla looked at him. For a moment she seemed not to recognize the inspector at all, or Latimer. And she said, ‘I am alone now. Nicholas has gone. Father has gone. My mother is lost in her own world. Rosamund and I will never speak to each other.’