‘We can’t be sure yet,’ Randy replied. Fleet glanced and saw the intense fascination in the pathologist’s eyes. Randy must have spent hours staring at the remains already, but now that he was looking at the skeleton again, it was as though he couldn’t bring himself to look away. It would have been like a jigsaw to him, Fleet knew. The most intricately illustrated storybook. ‘But I would imagine that the chances are slim,’ the man concluded.

‘What makes you say that?’ asked Fleet, finally turning fully.

Randy stood up straight. ‘Because we also found this,’ he said. He passed Fleet a see-through bag. It contained a piece of material. A badge, in fact: a stitched version of the coat of arms Fleet had seen on the wall in the school’s entrance hall.

‘We’re fairly certain it’s from his blazer,’ said Randy.

‘His?’ said Fleet, looking up.

‘The subject is male, almost certainly. Between twelve and sixteen years of age, would be my guess. And I checked with our friend, Mr Harris. Apparently this particular version of the coat of arms has only been used on the pupils’ blazers since 1984. Which doesn’t prove anything conclusively, of course, and we’ll be able to tell you more in due course, but for the time being …’ He finished the sentence with a shrug.

Nicky moved in to get a closer look at the coat of arms.

‘Sicut …’ she read aloud, but then stumbled. ‘Does that say serpent?’ she said, pointing.

‘Sicut serpentes, sicut columbae,’ Fleet quoted, even though the second portion of the motto was illegible. ‘Wise as serpents, innocent as doves. It’s from the Bible. Matthew … something or other.’

‘10:16,’ put in Randy. ‘I didn’t know you were a scholarly man, Detective Inspector.’

Fleet turned the badge over in his hands. He dropped on to his heels, and peered more closely at the remains. Nicky hunkered down beside him. There was a distant sound of a bell ringing, presumably in the tower at the front of the school. It was almost certainly ringing for the hour, but it felt as though it were tolling for the dead.

‘Do you think it’s our boy?’ said Nicky softly. ‘Do you think it’s Ben?’

Fleet looked at her, then back at the body. ‘I think we should probably warn Mr Harris that things are about to get a lot less discreet.’

Ben – January 1997

(Four months before his death)

Ben saw the children watching him as he stepped from his father’s car.

There were three of them, two boys and a girl. One of the boys was leaning against a tree, arms folded across his chest, while the other two simply stood there staring.

‘Ben? Are you listening to me, Ben?’