Jazz nodded silently, looking at Issy, who raised her eyebrows.

‘I’m sure it was. What did you do then?’

‘I got away and ran out of the room and went upstairs to my dorm. I pulled the covers over my head and cried. Mr Daneman was my only friend, he did protect me and I knew I couldn’t let him any more, that he was a dirty old man, and just as bad as the rest of them. And I knew I was completely on my own, that I couldn’t trust anyone ever again. Except for . . .’

‘Your dad?’ offered Jazz.

Rory nodded. ‘I rang him. I wanted to see him. When he didn’t come, I ran away to find him.’

‘Your dad tried very hard to find out what was going on and why you were so upset. I saw him, a few days later in Mr Jones’s office, trying to get to see you.’

‘And I suppose they wouldn’t let him. Was he drunk?’

Jazz decided a white lie was in order. ‘I don’t know. But he was very upset he couldn’t see you. So, when you went away with your dad to the Lake District, did you tell him what Mr Daneman had done?’

‘Yes, I did. And he swore he wouldn’t tell anyone. He hasn’t, has he?’ Rory looked at Issy and Jazz anxiously.

‘No, he absolutely hasn’t, promise,’ Jazz replied. ‘And just one last thing, did you actually take the tablets when Mr Daneman gave them to you?’

Rory paled. ‘I think I did. But I can’t remember.’

‘Well, perhaps you could try. It’s very important, Rory.’

‘Yes, yes, I know.’ Rory looked agitated. Issy mouthed ‘enough’.

‘Rory, you’ve been great.’ Jazz smiled. ‘And really helpful. If you do remember something, then here’s my card.’ Jazz handed it to him.

‘Yes, thanks,’ Rory said, pocketing it.

‘Now, Mum isn’t feeling too well, so she’s having a lie-down. She’s asked Granny to come and stay for a few days to look after you until she feels better. Issy, you can hang on a little longer until Granny arrives, can’t you? I have to dash, I’m afraid.’

Issy’s eyes said it all. ‘And how long is Granny going to be?’ she asked through clenched teeth.

Jazz drove round the corner to Foltesham police station, her mind buzzing with what Rory had told her.

Patrick was installed in the tiny interview room, sitting behind what had been Jazz’s desk. Telling herself to stop being so petty, she nodded at him as she put her briefcase on the table.

‘See you’ve managed to procure some proper coffee.’

‘Yes, I sent a charming young constable out to get me some, so I did. There’s one for you too.’

‘Thanks.’ Jazz raised her eyebrows. ‘You can tell the Big Guns have entered the building. They never went out to get coffee for us.’

‘You know me, Jazz, my natural Irish charm can work wonders,’ Patrick grinned.

Jazz shuddered involuntarily at the thought.