‘You mentioned family,’ Fleet said. ‘What about friends? Did you and Ben ever talk about the other pupils he was hanging around with?’

Father Steiner’s expression set firm. ‘We did not.’

‘You sound very definite about that, Father,’ Fleet said.

‘Because Ben was very definite about it himself,’ Father Steiner responded. ‘It was one of two things he was clear on. We might speak about family in very general terms, but if conversation turned specifically to his mother or father, he would shut down. And he was just as defensive when it came to his friends.’

‘Can you say why?’

Father Steiner pursed his lips. ‘I expect it was because he knew I disapproved.’

‘You disapproved? Of who, exactly? Callum Richardson? Melissa Haynes? Lance Wheeler?’

The chaplain seemed about to answer, but hesitated.

‘Father Steiner?’ Fleet prompted, and the chaplain sighed.

‘I disapproved of all three of them, if you want the truth. But of Callum Richardson in particular.’

‘And why was that?’

‘They … Callum especially … they weren’t the sort of friends I would have suggested Ben choose. They were brighter than Ben, for a start. Cannier. Their morals, to my mind, were … questionable. And Ben was easily led. A bit like Melissa, actually, who would have thrown herself from the bell tower if Callum had asked her to. She was besotted with him, you see. As was Lance, come to that,’ Father Steiner added meaningfully.

‘Romantically, you mean?’ said Nicky. ‘Lance Wheeler was gay?’

‘Oh, I doubt it was that straightforward,’ said Father Steiner. ‘They were fifteen years old. And this was boarding school. I doubt even Lance was certain whether or not he was homosexual. All I’m really saying is, even at that age Callum Richardson had his followers. Melissa and Lance were both infatuated with him, and Ben was in danger of being sucked in, too.’

‘Sucked into what exactly?’ said Fleet.

‘Into Callum Richardson’s secretive little clique. The boy had an agenda. I couldn’t tell you what that agenda was, but I was always sure it served Callum Richardson’s purposes and nobody else’s. And I’d seen the consequences before.’

‘What do you mean?’ said Nicky.

‘I mean, I’d witnessed other people getting hurt. More than that, I would prefer not to say. Particularly in light of … I would prefer not to say, that’s all. I do not feel it is my place.’

‘I understand your reluctance, Father Steiner,’ said Fleet. ‘But I surely don’t need to remind you why we are asking you these questions. Ben Draper was murdered, his body stuffed into an underground chamber not fifty metres from where you are currently sitting. And I can tell you that whoever killed him went to considerable lengths to make sure he was dead.’

The chaplain, at that, went pale. Even paler in the insipid light than he already looked.