The two women stared at each other.

Until at last Camilla’s hands relaxed, her grip loosened. Hobbes took this as a sign. He tapped at the book’s cover, saying, ‘This morning I watched a film. It was called The Spell Makers. You know of it, I presume?’

Camilla nodded.

‘You’ve seen it?’

Another nod, smaller than the first.

‘So you know what the film was about?’

‘I do. And it disgusts me.’

Hobbes put a hand on the novel. ‘Now, this book by your mother, and the film by your brother, they both deal with similar ideas and themes. They might almost be circling around the same subject. But here’s the thing. That subject matter is hidden. In both cases. Hidden below the surface. But on occasion it seems to rise, to be put almost on view.’ He looked at her. ‘Camilla, can you help us with that?’

Her face was set, but it was a struggle to keep it so.

Hobbes kept on, giving no leeway: ‘Have you read A Spell of Darkness?’

‘No.’

‘I find that difficult to believe. You own mother’s—’

‘I’ve read a few pages. I don’t need …’

‘What?’

‘Our mother used our lives for her own ends. Her own children’s lives! She tried to make money from us, to forge a new career for herself, from our travails. And then Nicholas tried the same trick.’

Hobbes nodded. ‘But I imagine many artists do that.’

‘There’s no excuse. And, thankfully, in both cases the attempt failed. The book did not sell well. And the film was never finished.’

Hobbes opened the novel at a marked page. ‘I’d like to read you a passage.’

A shrug. But she tensed as Hobbes started to read: ‘“The night closed around them. The two of them, man and woman, brother and sister. The night enclosed them and kept them warm in their loneliness.”’ His voice was soft, intoning. ‘“Not a word passed between them. Their embrace went further than either of them thought it should go. They were breaking a law, a law of the house, and a law of the land.”’

Camilla Greene stood up from the table.

Hobbes stopped reading.

He watched her as she turned her back on him.

Just standing there.

Nothing.

No sign of any life or emotion. Other than the turning away.

He carried on reading, finishing the passage: ‘“The wild shadows of that long night, the flesh of the night, when they had both faced the wrath of their father, were now settled. Only the darkness remained; the darkness, and the dreams they shared, and the love that might yet be roused.”’

A single word: ‘Enough.’

Hobbes followed the request. He closed the book.

Camilla turned to face the two officers.

She’d been crying.

She sat down at the table and looked at them both, without blinking, her eyes still wet.

Latimer said, ‘Camilla, I think you have something to tell us. A secret of some kind. But something is holding you back. Is that true?’