‘He stole your girlfriend. You caught them snogging round the corner from the pub just before Christmas. You beat his brains in, said he was lucky you didn’t finish him off. I was there to pick up the pieces, remember?’

The girl called Emily stood up, hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry,’ she gasped, then ran from the room.

The tension in the room was palpable.

‘Okay.’ Miles held up his hands. ‘Let’s move on. I want to know who left the school premises with Charlie last Friday to walk to the pub?’

‘I did,’ said James Arrowsmith. ‘There was me, and Emily, and Stocky . . . You were there, right?’

A bulky, red-haired boy nodded. ‘Yup.’

‘How did he seem on that walk?’

‘Cool. Same as always,’ Stocky replied. ‘Talking about how he couldn’t wait to leave, his plans when he did.’

‘So none of you would say he seemed depressed?’

‘Charlie? Nope.’ James Arrowsmith shook his head. ‘He was the life and soul, always up for a laugh.’

‘Not the type to want to take his own life, in your opinion?’

A number of the boys made clear their disbelief at the idea.

‘You’re not suggesting Charlie did himself in, are you?’ Dud’s deep voice rang across the room. Which became suddenly and unnervingly silent.

‘No,’ confirmed Miles.

‘He died of an epileptic fit, right?’ Stocky asked.

‘No.’

‘Jesus,’ Dud breathed eventually. ‘Then, can you tell us how he died?’

‘Of anaphylactic shock, caused by aspirin tablets.’

‘What?! How come? Charlie knew they could kill him,’ James said.

‘That’s why it’s important we establish how Charlie came to swallow them. Anyone got any ideas?’

‘Well, he wouldn’t have done if he’d known what they were, would he?’ Dud shrugged.

‘Quite,’ agreed Miles. ‘That’s why I needed to know whether he was likely to have taken anything nefarious that night. Anything he scored could have actually been aspirin, substituted by a bent pusher.’

‘Perhaps you slipped them into his beer, Dud,’ quipped James.

‘Sod off, Arrowsmith,’ Dud replied nervously.

‘So, is there anyone that you can think of who might have wanted to get rid of Charlie?’

‘Apart from Dud, you mean?’ James smirked.

Dud stood up. ‘That’s enough!’

‘Oh, come on, only joking. But I’m sure Dud would agree with me, there were a few people who weren’t fully paid-up members of the Charlie Cavendish fan club.’ James crossed his arms.

‘Anyone in particular stand out?’ Miles addressed his question to Dud.

‘Nope. I mean, lots of us thought he could be a tosser at times, but I don’t think anyone hated him. Some of the younger boys were wary of him, though.’

‘“Wary” of him?’ Stocky raised his eyebrows. ‘Petrified, more like.’

‘I’ve heard he was a bully,’ probed Miles. ‘You’d agree, would you?’

‘Would you agree, Dud?’ Stocky asked him. ‘You were his best mate and partner in crime before he stole your shag.’

‘Just fuck off, you pillock!’ Dud stood up, eyes blazing.

‘All right, that’s enough!’ Miles raised his hand. ‘You say the younger boys were wary of him?’