‘Years of mental and physical abuse, and then her taking his boy,’ said Marie. ‘I know it’s terrible, and totally unforgivable, but sadly it does happen. I cannot begin to think what it must be like, but Andy, good people don’t commit murder.’

‘But it wasn’t just that, was it? It was what came afterwards.’

Marie glanced at Jackman. ‘You mean, something else happened, after she’d gone off with the boy?’ he asked.

‘You don’t know?’ Forman looked at them, shocked. ‘His son is dead. Claire killed him.’

Jackman had never been so astounded by a statement. ‘Christopher — Teddy — is dead?’

‘She wrote off her car, and the boy was killed. Worst of all — if anything could be — she ran off and left him in the wreck. He died alone.’

‘And Jordan Spiller knows this?’

‘Of course he does. He told me about it.’

Jackman stood up. ‘Please excuse us for a moment, Andy. I need to talk to my sergeant.’

They hurried out of the room and leaned against the wall.

‘He’s not looking for his son at all, is he?’ whispered Marie.

‘Then what is he looking for? A substitute?’ Jackman said.

‘I dread to think.’ Marie rubbed her eyes. ‘I suggest I get us all a strong coffee and we find out what he can tell us. He’s not lying, is he?’

Jackman shook his head. They had been so certain that Spiller was looking for his boy. And now?

* * *

Sam edged closer to Laura. He had to give her the best chance to get out to safety. Shields smiled vaguely, his eyes unfocused, unblinking.

‘What happened, Freddie?’ Sam asked softly. ‘Do you know?’

‘I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s been months now, but you wouldn’t understand.’ His voice was flat. ‘And you should call me Mr Shields. We agreed, didn’t we, Dr Archer? We agreed.’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Shields, you’re quite right,’ Sam said. ‘But look, why don’t you put that knife down. It looks really dirty, you could get a nasty infection if you cut yourself with it.’

Shields looked down at the knife as if seeing it for the first time. He frowned.

‘Where did you get it, Mr Shields?’ Sam asked, keeping his tone even.

‘I . . . er . . . I don’t know. I think I found it.’ He tilted his head. ‘Ah, yes. I found it, outside.’

‘Then all the more reason to put it down.’ Sam smiled. ‘How about we all go back into the kitchen, Mr Shields?’

Shields dropped the knife with a clatter, stared at it for a moment and walked into the kitchen.

Pushing Laura round behind him, Sam moved slowly after Shields. ‘Sit down, Mr Shields, and we’ll have a talk.’ Shields obediently sat down. Then, to Sam’s surprise, he closed his eyes and his head fell forward.

Laura gripped his arm and whispered, ‘Sam. What’s going on?’