‘So those people either weren’t killed there, or he disposed of their clothes and personal effects later. He must have periods of time when he’s aware of what he’s doing. So let’s start with what we do know. This property might be rural, but it has some real value on a plot out here. We should follow the money. You said he’s changed his name previously. The first thing we need to know is who he really is.’ Baarda began texting instructions into his phone.

Connie let him work as she stared at the fire-blackened lower floors of the building. It was 1 p.m. Fergus Ariss, or whatever his name was, had been gone a while. He was doing something, not hiding out. He had a purpose. The sky was boiling with fast-moving clouds, black underneath and blossoming with new shapes that hid a coming storm. It was getting cold. In moments like this she missed her colour vision. When the world was already grim, there was comfort in such green grass, the blues and browns of caring eyes, the pink of a sunset.

‘Right, some progress,’ Baarda said. ‘The house is registered to a male named Harris Povey. That’s helped us with the car, too. We have a match with that name and the vehicle description given at Meggy’s school. Povey is thirty-six years old. I had the council go back through records of previous owners, and it looks as if the house was left to Harris by his grandmother, Delia Povey.’

‘They have the same name,’ Connie said. ‘So I’m guessing his mother never married.’

‘Got that, too. Harris’ mother predeceased him. Records show that she died shortly after he was born. Looks to have been a suicide. Might have been post-natal depression, but that’ll take a lot more digging into the original records.’

‘So Harris Povey grew up with his grandmother, with no mother figure, no father. He told his doctor he’d had electroconvulsive therapy for medication-resistant depression. That fits.’

‘That’s not all. Harris Povey was one of twins. His brother, Arthur, died on the same day as his mother. Looks as if she killed him and then herself.’

‘So Harris survived. That’s a lot of emotional baggage. It’s tough growing up without a mother under any circumstances, but those …’ Connie’s voice faded.

‘But she let Harris live. He’s the one who survived,’ Baarda noted.

‘Maybe all he can see is that she chose his brother to go with her and left him behind.’

‘Is that what Xavier was, a replacement for his brother?’ Baarda asked.

Connie gave him a half-smile. ‘You could be right. Until Xavier regains consciousness, we can’t be sure.’

‘Was there nothing else inside that could give any clue as to where he might have gone?’