‘Before six, just the rowers,’ Robson answered

‘Did one of the boys come up this way to rouse Edmund?’ Cardilini asked.

‘And discover the body and not say anything?’ Robson queried mockingly.

‘Perhaps, so they could souvenir the bullet.’

‘No!’ Robson stated firmly.

‘You seem sure.’

‘I’m very sure. There isn’t a boy in the school who didn’t respect Captain Edmund.’

‘Were the rowers barefoot?’ Cardilini asked.

‘No. In shoes. It’s quite a hike to the boat shed.’

At this point Cardilini had Salt hold the fire-escape door open while he examined the stairs.

‘There’s blood on these steps,’ Cardilini said, and straightened his back. Robson and Salt craned forward to see.

‘It could have been splatter from the cleaners’ buckets,’ Robson suggested.

‘Did Superintendent Robinson or Deputy Commissioner Warren come out this way?’

‘I believe the superintendent drew the deputy commissioner this way. I was at the other end of the corridor to stop entry.’

‘Okay.’ Cardilini said. He walked down the fire-escape. Glancing out to the oval, he recognised a familiar array of nets.

‘Hockey?’

‘Yes.’ Robson said craning to see what Cardilini was doing.

At the bottom of the fire-escape Cardilini had got down on his haunches and was examining the bitumen. Robson and Salt started down the fire-escape. ‘Don’t step off,’ Cardilini commanded, and the two stood one behind the other on the lower rungs.

‘Which way did the cleaners go?’ Cardilini asked.

Robson pointed to the left. Cardilini started to the right, walking slowly, surveying the bitumen. He then stopped and looked out onto the hockey field.

‘Someone did pick up that bullet,’ he finally said.

‘Yes. I believe that was the previous consensus,’ Robson glanced dismissively to Salt.

‘Not very respectful, would you say?’ Cardilini asked, starting down the limestone stairs.

‘I think it’s your officers or ambulance crew that missed it. It could still be . . .’ Robson was reluctant to finish.

‘In the body?’ Cardilini asked.

‘Yes,’ Robson replied.

Cardilini shrugged.

‘Finding it isn’t worth traumatising the whole school,’ Robson declared.

‘Really? Who decides that?’

‘A responsible adult,’ Robson replied firmly.

‘A crime scene has been disturbed and no one is worried. Is that what I’m hearing?’ He started on the base of the wall at the other side of the stairs.

‘You only lost a bullet, Detective Sergeant Cardilini. The whole school has lost a dedicated teacher and colleague.’

‘Did you come across this in the academy, Salt?’ Cardilini asked.

‘No, sir.’

‘Just starting out,’ Cardilini said, indicating Salt to Robson.

‘I’m aware,’ Robson replied dryly.

‘We might go for a stroll down to that row of gum trees on the other side of the quadrangle,’ Cardilini said climbing the limestone stairs.

‘I will need to check with the principal,’ Robson said.

‘No, you won’t. This is a police investigation.’

Cardilini walked from the shade of the rear of the building around to the front, which faced the quadrangle. He stood in the shade of the cloister, reluctantly looking out onto the lawn and the row of gum trees on the opposite side. It was midday and the heat seemed to have a pulse and will of its own. The diagonal paths were paved with limestone, hard and hot. A few passing students, dressed in grey shorts and grey shirts with a gold and black school tie, stared openly at the three men.