‘Well … both,’ the chaplain said, warily. ‘The first time was just before I joined the school. Someone else came six or seven years ago, but only because I kicked up a fuss when it became obvious the problem was getting worse.’ He shook his head as he remembered. ‘I still don’t believe either of them did their job properly. There’s clearly an issue that needs attention – you’ve seen the cracks yourself.’

‘So the site was investigated twice. And both times they reported that everything was fine? That nothing needed to be done?’

‘As I said, Detective Inspector, I’m not at all convinced they did a thorough job. But that’s apparently what they said.’

Fleet felt his frown deepen. ‘Meaning you didn’t actually speak to them yourself? Obviously not the first time they came, but what about the second?’

The chaplain exhaled in evident frustration. ‘Look, is this really what you feel we should be focusing on? Given the circumstances. And given what you’ve just accused me of …’

‘Just answer the question please, Father Steiner. Did you speak to them? Or even see them?’

‘No, I …’ The chaplain scrunched up his eyes as he tried to recall. ‘The first time, as I say, was about two months before I took up my post. The second time I was visiting my sister. She has mobility issues, and I do my best to look in on her as often as I can. She lives in—’

‘So who did?’ Fleet interrupted. ‘Who would have authorised the site surveys in the first place?’ But even as he waited for the chaplain to respond, he was fairly sure he already knew the answer.

‘Why, the headmaster, of course,’ said Father Steiner. ‘Adrian Harris.’

Fleet slumped backwards in his seat. He was aware Father Steiner was staring at him, but it was all Fleet could do to focus on his thoughts. He was remembering something else the chaplain had said to him the first time they’d spoken – something else that Fleet had failed to pick up on.

‘He doesn’t like you,’ he said, raising his eyes to meet Father Steiner’s. ‘Does he?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Adrian Harris. You and he don’t get along. Why not?’

‘Well, I … I wouldn’t say we don’t get along. We just … we don’t always see eye to eye on matters of—’

Fleet was shaking his head. ‘That’s not it. You said something else. Last time. You said the headmaster had a habit of …’ He tried to recall how Father Steiner had put it. ‘Of overstating your bond with certain students. And you mentioned something similar again just now. What did you mean? Who did you mean?’

‘Well, Ben, obviously. And …’

‘And?’ Fleet prompted. ‘And who else, Father Steiner? Who was the other pupil who came between you?’