They were back at the porter’s lodge. Jonathan turned to her. ‘Thank you for your time, Jazz. I really appreciate it.’ He fixed her with his blue eyes for a second, then leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Bye then.’

‘Bye.’

Jazz walked briskly away from him, towards the safety of her parents’ rooms. There was no time to ruminate, as she was met at the door by Celestria.

‘Glad you’re here, Jazz. Your father has refused to go to bed until you got back. He’s been on the telephone to one of his old cronies about Hugh Daneman. Come in.’

‘Jazz, my darling.’ Her father looked pale but his eyes were alight. ‘Found out the details on your cadaver for you. Celestria, the smallest of brandies for myself and our daughter to ease the story along.’

‘Not for me, Dad. I have to drive home.’ Jazz settled herself in the chair.

‘And not for you either, Tom. You’ve already had your quota today.’

‘Bugger quotas and get me a small brandy.’

Celestria looked at Jazz helplessly, then took a brandy bottle out of the cupboard, poured a tiny measure into a glass and handed it to Tom.

‘Thank you, darling.’ He took a sip. ‘Now, this old chum of mine, Crispin Wentworth, was able to fill me in on Hugh Daneman. They were at Oxford together, and, having completed their PhDs, were both offered jobs as lecturers. I presume you knew Hugh was gay?’

‘Not for sure, but the thought had crossed my mind. A man unmarried for all of his life . . . it has to be an option.’

‘Well, let me assure you he was most definitely one hundred per cent homosexual. It takes one to know one and Crispin would know.’ Tom smiled. ‘At the time, there was some pretty racy stuff going on at Oxford, but as I said earlier, it was the start of the Sixties, so it was happening everywhere.’

‘Terrible to be envious of what a good time your parents had when they were younger, but sometimes I am,’ Jazz sighed. ‘Anyway, go on, Dad.’

‘Well, it seems Hugh Daneman did the unthinkable and fell in love with one of his students. Male, of course. Rather foolishly, he didn’t hide it well enough from his elders and betters. They eventually got the drift loud and clear and he was dismissed forthwith.’

‘I see. Do you know who the student was?’

Tom held up his hands. ‘I’ll get to that in a minute. Hugh then went abroad and Crispin lost track of him for a year or so. Next thing he knows, Hugh’s working at St Stephen’s as a Latin master.’

‘I’m amazed they’d take him on, given the fact he’d been dismissed from Oxford for a relationship with a male student.’

‘It may well have been hushed up. Things were in those days. Perhaps Hugh was to leave quietly and nothing more would be said. Police checks and extensive references weren’t de rigueur like they are now. Anyway, somehow he tips up at St Stephen’s.’