‘John. John. Don’t. You have nothing to be ashamed about. It’s them. They should be ashamed. Don’t, John. Stand up,’ Mrs Lockheed urged her son while her eyes filled with animosity. ‘Get on, and get out,’ she snapped at Cardilini.

‘Mrs Lockheed, John, I’m completely at a loss. Was John’s expulsion something to do with the cadets?’

‘I don’t believe it. Who sent you?’ Mrs Lockheed demanded.

‘No one sent me.’

‘Then why are you here?’

‘I need to discount an intentional shooting.’

‘And we’re prime suspects?’ Mrs Lockheed laughed maniacally, ‘Of course. But that would make our complaint true, wouldn’t it? If I went to the trouble of shooting the bastard? But then if I could shoot someone I wouldn’t have stopped with him,’ Mrs Lockheed threw the words at Cardilini, her eyes cutting him so sharply he looked away.

‘Mum. Please.’

‘No, John, I would have shot him. And I’d like to believe someone did shoot him intentionally. Then I might be able to believe in justice again.’

‘Mum. Mum, please.’

‘Why would you want that?’ Cardilini asked, confused.

Mrs Lockheed looked at Cardilini as if seeing him for the first time. Then slowly, as if a new idea was occupying her thoughts, she asked ‘Why do you need to discount an intentional shooting? It was an accident. Wasn’t it?’

‘An accident is the current official conclusion.’

‘But you don’t think that? Why?’ Mrs Lockheed put her arm around her son’s shoulder.

Cardilini looked at the two similar faces challenging him and thought of Betty and Paul. He shook his head, ‘I haven’t said that.’

Mrs Lockheed stroked her son’s shoulder, ‘Sit down,’ she said, ‘ask your questions.’

Cardilini took his time pulling out a chair opposite the pair. Mrs Lockheed sat beside her son.

‘A boy, Carmody, insists the shooting was an accident,’ Cardilini finally said.

‘That’s interesting. He’s the only person I would trust at that school. What’s your question?’ Mrs Lockheed asked.

Cardilini searched in his pocket and withdrew the sketch, which he smoothed with his hands while saying, ‘A number of sketches have been secretly placed at the base of a tree in the quadrangle.’ He pushed the smoothed sketch across the table. The boy involuntarily jerked his head and shoulders back.

‘There, there, John,’ she patted him on the shoulders and raised her eyes to Cardilini, ‘You’re either a complete and utter bastard or you’re completely stupid,’ Mrs Lockheed said flatly.

Cardilini didn’t discount either one.

‘You have a question?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know what it means,’ John said.

He stood and walked out of the room shaking his head. Mrs Lockheed watched him leave then turned stark eyes to Cardilini, ‘I will, never, never forgive those who did this to John. And that includes Edmund. I despised the man.’

Cardilini sat back in his chair no closer to understanding the situation. Mrs Lockheed turned from observing Cardilini and called, ‘John, please come back. We’re not going to be beaten by these people. Come back.’ John entered the kitchen and stood rigid. ‘None of this is your fault. It’s these people who are despicable, John. Remember that.’