My vision filled with the red and black of the poppies, and even as my mind raced to understand, their message was clear.

You are never forgotten.

Fighting back an overwhelming urge to turn and run away, I pulled out my phone and called Elsa Olsen, reaching her voicemail.

‘Elsa,’ I said. ‘It’s me, Wolfe. Sorry – Saturday, and all that.’ I knelt by the tomb, touched the stone beneath the poppies, so suddenly and unexpectedly cold that it made my blood shiver. ‘And I’ll clear this with Whitestone and Swire as soon as I hang up, but I wanted you to be the first to know.’ I picked up a single poppy and held it in my hand. ‘I need an exhumation certificate.’

There was a red Lexus parked outside the main building. King’s PA, Siri Voss, sat in the driver’s seat tapping away on a phone. She got out when she saw me, wearing jeans and leather jacket, off duty now, her quick smile changing to a frown of concern.

‘You all right?’

‘Sorry,’ I said, confused. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’m Mr King’s ride back into town,’ she said. ‘He called me. He doesn’t want to waste your time, or police resources.’ Her hand was on my arm. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘Upstairs.’

‘Of course.’ She hesitated. ‘When you have a chance – when things are better – when this ghastly business is over – I would love to talk to you. Mr King wants to start a charity in the name of your late colleague, DCI Mallory. A fund for the families of policemen killed in the line of duty. Is that something you would be interested in?’

Her hand was on my arm again. It was a strange touch. It stayed there a little too long, yet somehow not long enough.

‘How’s Mrs Mallory coping?’ she tried. ‘How’s Margaret?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, and felt a stab of real shame.

She smiled and fell in behind me as I climbed the stairs and made my way to the Head Master’s rooms. Ben King was sitting at Waugh’s desk, his head in his hands, and when he looked up I saw the tears on his face.

‘I knew that boy,’ he said. ‘The boy outside. I knew that boy. Because he was me. And he was Ned. And he was all of us.’

Siri flew to his side.

‘Where is he?’ I said, but King was good for nothing now, the pretty PA rocking him like a child as he wept.

I moved quickly through the rooms, a feeling of dread rising in my stomach.

And then I saw the water coming from under the bathroom door.

It was locked from inside so I slammed my shoulder into it – nothing. And again. Nothing.