I tried to explain this to Poodle, but he was incoherent. “He lost everything,” he said. “Everything but this one thing. And we can give it to him now. We can give him peace at last.”

Peace? What about my peace? What about the life I’ve built for myself out of the wreckage? I built that, Mousey. Not Mum, not Dad, but me. And I did well. I’m a rich man. I had no qualifications, but I managed to make good, all the same. People respect money. Money gives you authority. And people fear authority—or at least, some people do. People who value secrecy. People who have something to hide.

I knew there was no way I could get Poodle to listen to all of this, so I pretended to listen to him as he rambled on and on. I pretended to listen, and then at last I nodded.

“Okay.”

He looked surprised. “Do you mean it?”

How very like him to say that. I said: “I think you’re right. We’ll deal with it. I promise.”

His hopeful expression was almost like the Poodle of our schooldays. As if I’d given him a treat, instead of the kick he deserved. He said: “Really? Really? You promise?”

“Of course.” Well, Mousey, I had to say that. I needed to buy some time to think. “I’ll have a word with Johnny,” I said. “We’re going to need him on our side.”

Chapter 5

5

November 2005

Dear Mousey,

Getting in touch with Johnny proved more difficult than I’d thought. The new Head of St. Oswald’s wasn’t an easy man to pin down. His phone number was unlisted; his cell went straight to voice mail. Even when I called him at school, all I got was his secretary, who asked too many questions and never seemed to know anything.

To be honest, it was hurtful. We’d been close for so many years, but now, except for the fifteen thousand paid into my account twice a year, it seemed that he was avoiding me. He hadn’t come to see me since I moved into my Malbry home. I could tell he didn’t want his wife around me anymore. She never called me either. Still, I’m sure that was his fault. Miss McRae always liked me.

Finally, I decided to call and see him in person. I went round to St. Oswald’s and told the secretary I’d wait. I’d brought a box of Harry’s things to deliver to the Chaplain—Poodle and I had gone through them together, and I knew there was nothing in there to incriminate us. I was informed as I arrived that Dr. Harrington was at a course, and that I could speak with Ms. Buckfast or come back in the morning.