‘It’s going to have to be a formal interview,’ says Moony, tapping her beringed fingers against her leg. ‘You’re going to have to caution him, although I don’t think there’s any need to arrest him first.’
They are crammed into a huddle near the entrance to the office.
Rose glances over to where Gregory is currently sitting with Scarlett and a woman called Mrs MacDonald, who has been appointed as the Appropriate Adult for the interview.
Rose is still boiling about Gwen Fuller, who hadn’t really reacted at all to the news that Gregory had perhaps pretended to poison her husband. She’d gone totally silent and then merely replied, ‘Thank you for telling me.’ Worse, she’d said she couldn’t possibly leave Anton’s side to accompany her own son to a formal police interview. So calls had been made and a legally appointed Appropriate Adult had turned up – the thin, anxious-looking Mrs MacDonald with pinkish-grey curly hair.
Thank God for Scarlett, who has made tea and offered biscuits while they waited for her arrival and for Moony to brief Rose and Adam.
Gregory hadn’t seemed especially surprised that his mother wasn’t coming, which Rose found a bit heart-breaking in itself. Scarlett has magicked up a pack of cards and Gregory has been shouting, ‘Snap!’ gleefully at the game, quite as though he was on a pleasant trip away from home. Maybe this counted for a day out in his schedule-packed life. Did he understand the gravity of attempted murder? At twelve, there would have to be something very wrong with the child if he didn’t.
He had been animated in the car, asking questions about where they were going and why they couldn’t put the siren on. The fact that it had been an ordinary unmarked Honda and not a police car had been a source of disappointment.
The news from the hospital was that Anton Fuller’s toxicology screen had come back negative for the poisoned berries, and for anything else, but they were continuing to monitor him because he was still exhibiting signs of a severe gastrointestinal reaction and shock.
Moony listened attentively to the description of what had taken place at Wyndham Terrace since the last briefing.
They all look over at Gregory, who is now spinning the office chair first in one direction and then the other. When it comes to a stop, he does an exaggerated dizzy wobble with his head and arms.
‘Just remember at all times that he is a little boy,’ says Moony, ‘even if he has just tried to bump off his own father.’
It’s the first time Rose has been inside the interview room at the UCIT building, which is down the long, low-ceilinged corridor from the main office.
The stone walls are painted yellowish white and there’s a modern desk in front of a large, domed window with wobbly, aged glass. The rest of the building is empty and Rose seems to sense the weight of it, all around. Gregory, too, has become still now, his expression serious at last.
Mrs MacDonald, shivering, clutches her coat around her as all take their seats.
Adam turns on the recorder. It’s one of the strange aspects of this crumbling old building that the UCIT technology is largely the most up-to-date, and this digital recorder is much newer than she was used to at Angel Street nick.
Rose smiles, with what she hopes is encouraging warmth. He’s a strange kid but it can’t be easy being here in these circumstances. He isn’t exactly overburdened with love at home and that’s something she can very much identify with from her own joyless childhood.
‘Who won at Snap?’ she says. Gregory grins, small teeth revealed in a flash of white.
‘I did,’ he says. ‘Scarlett is enthusiastic but has a very poor technique.’
Rose smiles and Adam lets out a little laugh.
‘So, Gregory,’ she says, ‘I hope you’re not finding any of this too alarming but we want to chat with you about what happened at home today and because we want to follow all the right rules and look after you properly, that means we have to do something called a caution first. Is that okay?’
Gregory nods and begins to chew at his nail.
While Rose recites the caution, his eyes flit between her, Adam, and Mrs MacDonald.
‘Am I under arrest?’ he says in a hoarse little whisper. He’s nervous, but Rose is sure she detects something else there too. Excitement?
‘No,’ says Adam gently, ‘but we need to find out why your dad got so sick and why he thought that he was eating something poisonous. He’s going to be fine, but it can’t have been very nice for him if he thought he had eaten poisoned berries, can it? Would you be able to talk us through what happened?’
Gregory opens his mouth to speak then closes it again.
‘Can I have another biscuit first?’ he says.
Rose dutifully stops the recording and goes to collect the packet from Scarlett, who raises one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.
‘You’d think he’d never seen a Hobnob before, the way he went at them,’ she grumbles, handing them over with a tiny bit of reluctance.
‘I don’t think he has,’ Rose replies. ‘I reckon he’s one of those kids who gets extra kale as a special treat.’
Back in the interview room, Gregory stuffs down a biscuit and says something through a mouthful of crumbs that’s impossible to catch.
‘What was that, Gregory?’ says Rose, leaning forward a bit.
The boy swallows and then takes a drink from his glass of water. His eyes remain lowered when he speaks again.
‘It’s all to do with the nocebo effect, you see,’ he says. ‘Do you know what that is?’
‘No,’ says Rose. ‘Why don’t you tell us?’
‘Okay.’ Animated now, his air that of a teacher explaining something to a child. ‘You know what the placebo effect is, right?’ he says. ‘Where people take a sugar pill but because it looks like medicine, they get better anyway?’
‘Yes,’ says Rose, ‘I’ve heard of that.’
‘Okay,’ he says again. ‘The nocebo effect has been called the placebo effect’s evil twin.’ His eyes are bright and he shuffles forward a bit on his seat. ‘I think that’s quite cool, don’t you?’
Adam takes over.
‘I think I read something in New Scientist about this,’ he says and Gregory nods with great enthusiasm.
‘Yes, yes, me too!’ he says. ‘That’s where I got the idea!’
There’s a pause.
‘What idea would that be?’ says Adam in the same easy tone.
For the first time, Gregory looks upset. His eyes dart from Rose to Adam and back again.
Mrs MacDonald has remained silent throughout this exchange, her head going back and forth as though watching a tennis match.
‘Gregory,’ she says gently, ‘try and answer the policeman if you can.’
‘You take your time, buddy,’ says Adam. ‘But what did you mean then about the idea?’
Gregory stares down at his lap, cheeks reddening. ‘I only wanted to keep Daddy out of the house, without there being anything really wrong with him,’ he says. ‘It felt like the best thing because he would seem sick, but wouldn’t really be sick, do you see?’
When he raises his head, his eyes shine with unshed tears.
‘Why did you want him out of the house, Gregory?’ says Rose. A sick, heavy feeling settles in her stomach. Is that what this is all about? Abuse? She shouldn’t be surprised but hadn’t really expected it. ‘Does your dad ever … hurt you in any way?’
Gregory’s silence seems to expand to fill the room.
Mrs MacDonald fusses with a hanky in her lap.
The boy’s shoulders shake, and he breaks into loud sobs, hands covering his face.
‘I knew you wouldn’t understand!’ he says in an angry voice that comes as a shock. ‘No one does! It’s not my dad hurting me. My dad is the one in danger!’
‘Why is he in danger?’ says Rose, leaning forwards. ‘Who wants to hurt him?’
Gregory is sobbing now and doesn’t answer.
‘I think we need to stop for a while,’ says Mrs MacDonald. ‘Give the lad a little break.’
‘I agree,’ says Rose, despite the disappointment washing over her. You can’t push a child in interview the way you would an adult. They have to stop now, even if they were getting to something important.
Gregory stops crying after a few moments. Rose hands him a tissue, which he drags savagely across his eyes and nose.
‘It’s the boy, you see,’ he says finally.
‘The boy?’ Adam’s voice is whisper-soft. ‘Which boy?’
Gregory looks very directly at him and then fixes his eyes on Rose.
‘The one who lives in the wall. The one who wants to kill my dad.’