‘Great, son, great,’ Cardilini enthused.

Paul looked at him for a moment then said briskly, ‘Mum never pruned the roses in summer because they had flowers on them.’

Day 8

Kilkenny Road

12.10 a.m. Sunday, 1st November 1965

Six files sat in front of Cardilini on the kitchen table. They were Captain Edmund’s files on the boys: Carmody, Lockheed, Williamson, Sheppard, Doney and Masters.

Cardilini had drawn up neat lists in an exercise book.

– 1963. A sixth form boarder, Colin Sheppard, died by an accidental shooting

– 1964. A sixth form boarder, Peter Doney, died in a car accident while on holidays at the family farm

– 1965. An old boy, Geoff Masters, died by hanging

• Bradley Williamson and Geoff Masters graduated in 1963

• All had been in the Cadets together and played sport together

• Carmody and Lockheed, plus the boy killed in a car accident, Doney, had been discharged from the cadets for disciplinary reasons

• These boys all knew each other well. The total boarders numbered 132

• The following discounted intentional shooting as fanciful, or considered it plausible and worth concealing, or knew it to be a fact and decided to cover it up:

♦ Deputy Commissioner Warren

♦ Superintendent Robinson

♦ Dr Braun

♦ Dr Robson

♦ Mrs Lockheed

♦ Carmody

A cover-up in case it leads to revelations of Captain Edmund’s abuse and their failure to act? Cardilini asked himself.

• Salt left St Nicholas in 1962, the year before Edmund arrived

Blankly, he studied the list. He checked his watch: 12.20 a.m. Paul was due home soon. He packed up the files nervously and stood on the front porch to wait. The night was empty of noise, disconcertingly so. He walked to the front gate. Two porch lights across the street did little other than light themselves, likewise two streetlights. He checked his watch again. His stomach hollowed. Paul’s gone to his aunt’s, he thought. He took several nervous breaths.

He turned to the house. The hall light was on. The front door open. The house empty.

A thin yellow light brushing the front porches of the houses opposite caught his attention. A car had turned into the street. He heard the rubber on bitumen and the familiar roar of his car. He released a breath thankfully. The light pool in front of the house intensified as the car slowed and turned into the driveway. He watched Paul pull up, dowse the lights, switch off the engine and get out of the car.

‘Dad. What are you doing?’

‘Nothing, just . . . nothing.’

Paul, still standing with the car door open, watched him. Finally he asked, ‘Have you been drinking?’

‘No. Absolutely not.’

‘You sure?’

‘Of course I’m bloody sure . . .’ then softening, ‘Son.’

‘Why are you outside then?’

‘It was late, I just thought I’d wait for you.’

‘Jesus, don’t start that Dad.’

‘I was working. I wasn’t just waiting for you,’ Cardilini finished gruffly but held Paul with his eyes. Paul in turn watched his father suspiciously.

‘You didn’t crash the car?’ Cardilini demanded.