Ted placed the mugs of coffee on the table that separated the two wooden seats of the companion set that overlooked the fish pond. Ted had insisted that such a conversation required caffeine.

‘Moby died,’ she observed, as he slowly took his seat beside her. She noted that his joints appeared to be giving him trouble and pushed away the pang of sadness.

‘Yes, my dear. Just a couple of weeks ago.’

She said nothing but felt the loss of the gold carp she’d named many years earlier.

‘So, you think a child could be responsible for a murder you’re investigating?’

‘I don’t know,’ she answered honestly. ‘But I can’t rule it out. Someone has to consider it.’

‘Your colleagues are less open to the possibility?’

She nodded. ‘And yet somehow it seems easier for me. Why is that, Ted?’ she asked, quietly.

Her dark mind always seemed able to explore a depth of depravity that was deeper than most normal people could go; her brain more able to accept the heinous level that humanity could produce.

‘Because the very idea of a child being able to kill, especially another child, challenges our belief in innate innocence, which is not something you have extensive experience of, my dear.’

He sipped his coffee and continued. ‘Your eyes were opened to the evil that exists around us at a very early age. You never had that blissful ignorance of the horrors that should be a God-given right. There is no preconceived notion that needs to be destroyed before you can consider the possibilities, all possibilities, however dark or misguided they may be.’

‘And are they, misguided?’ she asked, hoping he would quote some kind of statistic that would assure her that they couldn’t possibly be.

‘Not necessarily, I’m afraid,’ he said, flexing fingers that were showing signs of arthritis. ‘Children do kill, and they do kill other children. Experts have categorised them into three types. You have the ones that kill for the thrill. They enjoy the hands-on kill, torture beforehand and sometimes mutilation afterwards. Our very own Jon Venables and Robert Thompson fell into that category when they abducted two-year-old Jamie Bulger from that shopping centre.’

He shook his head and closed his eyes. ‘Those boys did unspeakable things to that child. There were forty-two injuries.’

Kim held up her hand to stop him from continuing, she’d read the accounts of the torture and had been unable to remove the images from her mind for months.

‘Although before your time, I’m sure you’ve heard of Mary Bell. In 1968 she killed a four-year-old and a three-year-old when she was only eleven herself. Her own mother had tried to kill her on numerous occasions and forced her to perform sexual acts from the age of four.’

‘I know the case,’ Kim said. She’d researched it after the woman’s lifelong anonymity and that of her daughter had been threatened by the release of a new book.

Ted continued. ‘There was a thirteen-year-old kid named Eric Smith who abducted a four-year-old boy. He strangled him, dropped rocks on his head and then used a tree branch to—’

‘Thanks, Ted. I get the picture. So are these kids evil, the ones that get a thrill from killing?’

Ted’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, my dear, that is a very big question and I’ll attempt to answer it as best I can.’

He took another sip of coffee, and so did she.

‘It is generally felt that it is possible for kids to grow out of the behaviours that led them to kill in the first place, and there is evidence on both sides of this argument. The court-appointed psychiatrist for Mary Bell said she displayed classic signs of psychopathy but has never re-offended, and Eric Smith still has no ability to express emotion after twenty-four years, leading the courts to believe he will never be rehabilitated.’

‘You said there were three types,’ Kim said.

He nodded. ‘The second type targets their prey for innocuous reasons – annoyance or anger.

‘Also before your time was Brenda Ann Spencer, a sixteen-year-old girl who used a rifle to shoot eight children in San Diego. The school was right opposite her house. When asked why she’d done it she claimed that she just didn’t like Mondays. She showed a complete lack of remorse and no serious explanation. She was annoyed. For her it was that simple.’

Kim found it difficult to comprehend that eight children had lost their lives because a kid had got out of the wrong side of bed.

‘And the last group?’ she asked.

‘These are the ones that kill specific targets out of anger, hurt or wounded pride. Just in 2014 there were two girls, not named, who were dubbed the ‘Snapchat Killers’. They tortured and murdered a girl named Angela Wrightson and took photos while they were doing it. They even took selfies from inside the police van.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Kim said.

‘So, how many victims do you have?’ Ted asked.

‘I have two children dead, in a few days. One definitely murdered and made to look like a suicide and the other I’m not sure yet.’

‘Are the two of them linked?’ he asked.

‘Not obviously,’ she said, as her thoughts returned to something he’d said.

‘You mentioned Mary Bell being potentially labelled psychopathic or showing tendencies. Even as a child?’

‘Oh, we’re getting into dodgy ground now, my dear,’ he said, draining his mug. ‘No mental health professional will be bold enough in this day and age to fix such a label to a child while there is still the possibility they will grow out of psychopathic behaviours.’

‘So, does it exist, Ted?’ she asked, pinning him for a straight answer.

‘It’s not something I can—’

‘Ted, can a child be a psychopath, sociopath or whatever it is you want to call them?’

‘Kim, it’s not as cut and dried as that.’

‘Come on, Ted. You’ve treated enough kids in your time. Did any of them fulfil these criteria? Were any of these children evil?’

‘I’ve never treated an evil child,’ he said.

‘But they do exist?’

Ted looked at her long and hard. ‘Kim, I’m really not qualified to say.’

Kim knew there was no point pushing him any further.

On the subject of evil in children he might not be qualified to say.

But she certainly knew someone who was.