Kim followed Mrs Winters through to the informal lounge. Mr Winters placed his laptop beside him on the sofa.

Her stomach was still reacting to what they’d found on Joanna’s phone, but for now, she had to let Stacey and Dawson do their job. She needed answers right here.

Mrs Winters moved the laptop and took a seat beside her husband, reaching for his hand.

Kim sat opposite in a chair next to an ornate fireplace filled with cards of condolence, best wishes at this time and sorry for your loss. The wall to the left was filled with family photos displayed in a descending chronology.

‘Mr Winters, Mrs Winters, we need to ask you a couple of questions about Sadie and the medication she was taking,’ Kim said, gently but firmly.

Mrs Winters coloured and looked to the floor.

A few seconds passed before Mr Winters answered.

‘She needed help,’ he said, simply.

‘With what?’ Kim asked.

They were not going to get off that lightly.

‘Mood swings, feelings of depression, anxiety.’

‘So, you gave her your own medication?’ Kim asked, looking to Mrs Winters.

She did not raise her head, letting her husband do all the talking.

‘Did you try to get her any help?’ Kim asked. ‘Like an appointment with her GP or a counsellor?’

‘There’s no better counsellor than the one at Heathcrest but she wouldn’t talk to anyone. She just clammed up, and I suppose we just wanted to help make her feel better.’

It seemed clear they’d made no effort to get to the bottom of her withdrawal. Had it not occurred to them that Sadie’s problems had started when her sister had become the superstar of the family?

‘That’s why we weren’t surprised at the news of her—’

‘Murder,’ Kim interrupted. This couple seemed determined to believe that their child had taken her own life.

‘And you asked Saffron to hide the pills from us?’ Kim asked.

Mr Winters nodded. ‘We didn’t want anyone to know,’ he said, honestly.

‘I understand that, Mr Winters, but with all due respect you have done little to aid the investigation into the death of your daughter. You have removed evidence and withheld important information. I understand that reputation and appearances are important but is there anything else you’re not sharing with us?’

Despite her neutral tone it was clear by his face that he did not appreciate the chastisement but, grieving parents or not, it was not their prerogative to judge what was relevant and what was not.

‘There is nothing more,’ he said, glancing away. ‘And you’re right. We shouldn’t ever have asked Saffie to touch her things.’

Slightly mollified that he at least understood the gravity of what they’d done she continued. ‘And how is Saffron coping?’ Kim asked. ‘She’s still not come home?’

Mr Winters shook his head. ‘She’s busy at school. It helps to keep her mind off it. Too many reminders here,’ he said, glancing at the photo wall.

Kim wondered if these parents could see the irony in the display. The photos at the top of the wall were portraits of them all. Below were photos of the two girls together. One so dark and one so light but laughing and close. And then two lines, one of each girl vertically travelling down the wall, separate.

‘And you don’t think it’s a good idea to insist that she come home, given the death of a second child at—’

‘Oh God, poor Anthony and Louise,’ Mrs Winters said, shaking her head.

Mr Winters squeezed her hand. ‘We met the Coffee-Todds a few times, at social functions at the school.’

‘Do you know the parents of Christian Fellows, the boy left hanging in the janitor’s room yesterday?’ Kim asked.

Mr Winters shook his head. ‘I don’t think we’ve ever met.’

‘And you know that a teacher was killed last night?’ she asked.

‘Road accident, Principal Thorpe said.’

‘She was run down by a vehicle, Mr Winters,’ Kim corrected. ‘Which is currently being investigated.’

‘Clearly unrelated,’ he said.

Kim looked to Bryant, wondering if any words were actually coming out of her mouth.

‘And you still don’t think that your other daughter should be safely home here with you?’ she asked, incredulously.

Bryant sat forward. ‘Three separate deaths in one week is probably nudging above the national average, Mr Winters, so if my daughter—’

‘Saffie is very independent, officers. She is sixteen years of age and rarely obeys her parents.’

Except when they were urging her to hide her sister’s possessions and obstruct the investigation of the police, Kim thought. Right now she was unsure just how many laws they had broken by medicating their own child, but she knew CPS wouldn’t touch prosecution of grieving parents.

Kim stood. ‘Well, thank you both for your time. We’ll be in touch.’

Bryant followed her out of the front door.

Kim sat in the car staring back at the house. There was a knot in her stomach that only came when she felt she was being led in the wrong direction.

She replayed the conversation in her mind.

‘Damn, damn, damn,’ Kim said, reaching for her phone.

‘Bryant, we need to speak to Stacey and Dawson now.’

She had the overwhelming feeling that she’d been looking the wrong way.