Cardilini entered the classroom followed by Miss Reynolds. A shudder went through him. Hardwood chairs sat behind desks with inkwells arranged with military precision. He imagined himself sitting halfway up the room, the fat kid. He walked to the front of the room and read the tightly scripted writing covering the blackboard.

‘History,’ he said over his shoulder.

‘Shall I send for Mr Abbott, Detective Sergeant?’ Miss Reynolds asked.

‘Did you enjoy your time when a student at school, Miss Reynolds?’ Cardilini asked as he turned.

‘Very much. I was at an all-girls’ school. I cried bitterly when it was over.’

‘Have you been tempted to return to an all-girls’ school?’

‘Yes. But this was my first position after secretarial college. I’ve been here thirty-five years.’

‘Surely there must have been positions available?’

‘There were opportunities but by then I felt loyal to St Nicholas. I still do.’

‘And I’m the one trying to tarnish the school,’ Cardilini said.

‘It would appear so.’

‘Yes. Send for Mr Abbott. And thank you, Miss Reynolds.’ Cardilini watched her turn and leave. When she had walked past the windows he said to Salt, ‘What do you think?’

‘They are very loyal to the school, which is commendable . . .’ Salt paused.

‘Go on.’

‘It’s possible their loyalty is hampering their responses to the investigation.’

‘Starting to feel played are you, Salt? Never mind. It’s a big world,’ Cardilini said and started pacing the front of the class. Shortly Mr Abbott tapped on the door. He was a slight man in his thirties, with closely cropped thinning brown hair, rimless round spectacles, grey trousers, white shirt, and an unusually colourful tie. He stood as if at attention.

‘Come in.’

Abbott walked past Salt with a brief nod. Salt took a seat at the side of the class.

‘Please, take the teacher’s chair,’ Cardilini said.

‘Not necessary,’ Abbott replied.

‘Okay, I’ll take it. Pull up a chair.’

Abbott stared briefly at the students’ chairs then chose one, brought it to the aisle and sat.

‘Tell me how the evening of the twenty-fifth proceeded from, say, seven p.m.?’ Cardilini asked with a nod to Salt.

‘All the boys are in their prep classes at seven p.m.’

‘Prep?’ Cardilini asked.

‘Preparatory. Time for the boys to complete homework and do general study in their form classrooms.’

‘So there is no one about the grounds?’

‘There shouldn’t be. A roll is taken, the boys sit in their forms and teachers are present.’

‘Which form were you responsible for?’

‘I was the duty-boarding master. I was in the staffroom.’

‘That’s the room next along from the principal’s offices. Windows facing the quadrangle?’

‘That’s right. I was doing some marking. No students were sent down for discipline.’

‘What happens when they’re disciplined?’

‘Depends on the teacher.’

‘Just give me a range then?’

Abbott took a quick glance at Salt who was busy with his notebook. ‘They can be caned. Some teachers give them a sharp smack on the head, others give them detention.’