Erica plucked a tissue from a box on the coffee table and handed it to Mrs Wilson.

Mrs Wilson blew her nose. "My boyfriend says Bruce is damaging our relationship. Can you believe that? Blaming my baby?"

"What's your boyfriend's name?" Erica asked.

"Les. And he's my ex — boyfriend." Mrs Wilson dabbed at her nose. "I got fed up with his jealousy. I finished with him last week. Told him to leave us alone. And that's what he's done."

"Les who?"

"Green. Les Green."

"Do you have his address?"

She gave it to us and Erica wrote it down.

"I'm sorry to have to ask this," I said. "But did your relationship with Mr Green end on good terms?"

She shrugged. "He called me a 'mad bitch'. But he didn't throw any punches. If that's what you mean."

"Might Mr Green have picked up Bruce from school?"

"Les wouldn't dream of it."

"I think we should talk to him anyway," I said.

"Whatever you think."

We sat for a bit, staring at each other. Then Erica said, "Could we see Bruce's room?"

"Why not." Mrs Wilson got to her feet, led us down the hallway and up the stairs. She swung a bedroom door open and stepped inside.

We followed her in. A little boy's room. Piles of books in the bookcase, games stacked in the corner, toys in their boxes. But there were things I would have expected to see that weren't here.

"No TV?" I asked.

"I don't like him watching too much television."

"Computer?"

"He's not old enough to be interested."

"Really?" I asked. "My two were into computers from before they could speak."

"You have two boys?" Mrs Wilson looked me in the eye and there was no sign of the twitch.

"Yeah. Older one just had his thirteenth birthday. His brother's ten."