‘You have a choice,’ Perez said mildly. ‘You were at university. You could have finished your degree.’

‘My father had a stroke. It’s a family business. There was nobody else.’

‘Your family could have found someone.’

‘That wouldn’t be the same. Besides . . .’

Perez said nothing, waited for him to find the words to continue.

‘Besides, the money’s addictive. I’m not sure how I’d take to being poor. I earn more in a month than some of my old schoolfriends do in a year. I grew up living comfortably and I want that for my children.’ His mood suddenly lightened. ‘So I’ll have to hope that Anna’s business becomes a roaring success, won’t I? Then she can support the family and I can go back and take my degree.’

‘I’m still not quite sure how the accident happened,’ Perez said. ‘Now you’ve had some time to think about it, perhaps it’ll be clearer in your mind.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve been running it over and over again in my head to work out what must have happened and I still don’t understand it.’ His relief at finding out that he wouldn’t be charged had already evaporated. He seemed pleased for Anna, but still haunted by what he’d done.

‘All the same, I would like you to take me through it again.’

‘Is there any point now?’ Ronald looked up at him. ‘Mima’s dead. I killed her. I accept that.’

‘I still have to make a report, tie up the loose ends.’

‘I went out to shoot rabbits. I’d had a row with Anna so I wasn’t in the best of moods. It was dark and murky. I shot a couple from the car then went out with the flashlight into the field. I didn’t think I was anywhere near Mima’s place, but I was thinking about Anna and what I should have said to her. About how I shouldn’t have been so scratchy. She was still tired after giving birth. Moody. Hormonal. It wasn’t easy for her. I never thought giving birth would be . . .’ he paused to search for the right word, ‘. . . as violent as that. You know how it is when you’ve had an argument, you rerun everything in your mind.’

Perez reflected that he and Fran didn’t argue much. He’d never liked rows, didn’t see the point of them. Sometimes that frustrated her. ‘Don’t just agree with me! Stand your ground and fight!’ But usually he did agree with her. He could see her point of view and was happy to concede that she was right.

‘You’re sure you didn’t see anyone else out?’