So good to hear from you after all these years. Glad you tracked me down. That ‘School Reunion’ website really works, doesn’t it?

You asked if I’d heard about the rest of our gang of four. Sadly, I have to be the bearer of bad tidings, at least for two of them. Harry’s wife contacted me last year to tell me he was dead. He’d moved to Sydney – did you know? And, by all accounts, was a very talented surgeon. Apparently he was found dead in the sluice room at his hospital. Don’t know the details, but it wasn’t accidental. Still haven’t caught the perpetrator as far as I know.

And I heard only a couple of months ago that Freddie’s no longer with us either. He died about three years ago in the States – a friend of a friend used to work with him at Goldman. Suicide apparently. He jumped out of his office window and was found dead on the pavement below. That’s the high finance world for you – pressure’s unbelievable. Only thirty-eight too; left behind a couple of kids. Blimey, it makes you humble. So, sadly, old mate, that leaves only the two of us.

I’m currently living in Provence, learning to turn grapes into wine. Off the City treadmill and onto a far more palatable one. On my second wife; two kids from the first and a baby on the way in three months with number two.

Love to come to your fortieth and will make arrangements nearer the time. Goes without saying it’s a hop, skip and a jump from Norwich to Marseilles. Name the date and let’s meet up.

Sorry to hear you saw ‘Le Forgeron’. Not surprised you were shocked. I would have been too.

Get in touch as soon as you can.

Adam

When Jazz had finished reading, she sat there in silence. Finally, she spoke: ‘Harry, Freddie, Adam and Julian. The names of the boys whose continual bullying is said to have been the reason why Jamie hanged himself twenty-five years ago.’

‘Harry, Freddie, Julian . . . All dead . . .’ added Miles.

‘Don’t forget Charlie Cavendish, a renowned bully, too . . .’

Forgeron . . . The word was repeating itself inside her head . . . the answer just out of reach . . .

Sydney . . . the States . . .

Jazz pulled her notebook out of her briefcase, racing through the scribbled notes she had taken over the past week.

Then she found it.

‘Of course,’ she breathed.

‘What?’ Miles asked.

‘Le Forgeron . . . Now I think I understand.’

Miles looked confused. ‘Understand what?’

Jazz was already at the door. ‘Julian saw his murderer recently. Angelina Millar told me he looked as though he’d seen a ghost when he drove her to school a few days ago. Someone who loved Jamie enough to kill those they believed were the cause of his death. And to put an end to anyone else guilty of the same crime. Email this Adam immediately. Get on to the Provence gendarmerie if necessary. Whatever it takes, track him down. And warn him.’