The headmaster seemed to notice his curiosity. ‘His mother and I divorced when he was young,’ Harris explained – rather impatiently, it seemed to Fleet. ‘In the end he was at Beaconsfield only for a very short time – until it became obvious that he would be better off with his mother.’ The headmaster rearranged himself importantly. ‘The demands of my role here leave me very little time for the challenges being a full-time parent entails.’

In other words, Fleet thought, Harris had a very clear hierarchy of priorities – and Beaconsfield was right at the top.

‘Other than you, Mr Harris,’ Fleet said, ‘are there any members of staff still working at Beaconsfield who were here when Ben was a student? This Philip Craig, for example, who wrote Ben’s report.’

‘No,’ said Harris. ‘Dr Craig died from a stroke several years ago. And since Mr Berkley, our head of geography, retired last year, I am the last one remaining at their post.’

He spoke as if he were a soldier at a time of war, Fleet noted.

‘Although …’ the headmaster added, with a barely hidden scowl. ‘I suppose there is also Father Steiner.’

‘Father Steiner?’

‘The school chaplain. He’s been here almost as long as I have, though is something of an independent entity. He does not report to me – rather, directly to the school’s board.’

Was that why Harris appeared to dislike him, Fleet wondered?

‘Did Father Steiner know Ben?’ Nicky asked.

‘Yes,’ said Harris. ‘By all accounts he knew Ben quite well.’

‘Could we speak with him?’ said Fleet, registering the note of disapproval in the headmaster’s tone. ‘Where might we find him?’

‘I’m afraid I have little influence over his movements. But I suggest you first try the chapel.’

‘Thank you,’ said Fleet. ‘We’ll do that. Just finally, though, and while we’re on the subject of the chapel, I gather the survival of the original crypt has come as something of a surprise to you.’

Was Fleet imagining it, or did Harris stiffen slightly? The man was as rigid as a mortar board anyway, making it hard to tell.

‘From what I understand,’ Fleet went on, ‘you were under the impression the crypt had been filled in when the chapel was rebuilt. Is that correct, Mr Harris?’

‘No, Detective Inspector, it is not.’ After seeming on his guard, Harris appeared to take pleasure from being able to contradict Fleet. ‘It was not that I, or anyone else at the school, thought that the crypt had been filled in. Rather, we had no reason to suspect it existed in the first place.’

‘You’re saying it’s been there this whole time without anybody connected with the school knowing about it?’

‘That’s the way it would seem, Detective Inspector. As I told you before, the original chapel was destroyed a full century ago. The site, including the cemetery, has long since been reclaimed by the woods.’