He’d been sitting in the same position for half an hour, on one of the low benches in the playground. In front of him a few of the teachers were milling around, Mr Lincoln among them. The deputy head was going through the motions of trying to appear in charge but his expression suggested he was incapable of stringing a sentence together. None of them could; they were in shock. Meanwhile Mrs Pullman was in her office being checked over by a first aider: when she’d heard what the police dogs had found, the head teacher collapsed and had to be helped inside.

The bloodstained clothes had been bundled in a carrier bag and jammed into the foundations. From what Alan had gleaned by eavesdropping, the garments definitely belonged to a woman and now the police were going to excavate the site because the way the dogs had reacted suggested there might be a body nearby. The dogs had only been able to recover the bag because the foundations were partly accessible – the concrete floor that would seal them beneath the classrooms had yet to be poured in and set. There was talk of them ripping the wall down as well.

Someone sat down next to him and with a jolt he saw it was Gus.

‘What the fuck is going on?’ he asked Alan in an undertone.

‘They found some bloodstained clothes. They think there’s a body buried,’ said Alan, keeping his voice to a whisper as well.

‘How did they know the stuff was there?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘They probably think it’s something to do with you.’

Alan glared at him. ‘You what?’

‘A kid falls off a wall and dies. Three days later, bloodied clothes are found in the same place. Who has the most after-hours access? The school’s site manager. You.’

‘I don’t know anything about the clothes.’

‘But you know about the fire, don’t you, Alan? I know it was you and I am very, very upset,’ said Gus in a voice that was chillingly calm.

It was as though someone had flicked a switch: the air evaporated from Alan’s lungs and he couldn’t breathe.

‘My inhaler. Pocket,’ he gasped, unable to move to get it. Gus retrieved it for him, then glanced round to see if anyone was watching. Satisfied nobody was, he pressed his thumb down once on the metal canister, and there was a long hiss as the vapour disappeared into thin air. Alan’s eyes bulged in horror as he desperately tried to catch his breath.

‘No, don’t,’ he wheezed.

‘I’m just making certain you understand what’s at stake here, Alan,’ said Gus, giving the canister another burst. ‘If you mention my name to the police in any way, a bit of breathlessness will be the least of your worries.’