He took out his phone and showed me pictures of his daughters: Louise, four, and Emma, two. Despite the grim circumstances, I congratulated him. Maxime had achieved everything I had failed to: he’d started a family, built a career, was serving his community.

“And now I’m going to lose everything,” he mumbled.

“Hang on, hang on, let’s not panic before we have to,” I said in a vain attempt to reassure him. I paused for a moment, then said: “Have you been inside?”

“No,” he said. “I was waiting for you.”

4.

Together, we went into the gym.

The building was as vast as I remembered, more than two thousand square meters divided into two separate sections, a sports hall with a climbing wall and a basketball court surrounded by bleachers. In preparation for the ghastly Alumni Prom mentioned in the article, the tatamis, the mats, the goalposts, and the baskets had been stored away, making room for a dance floor and a stage for the band. Tablecloths were draped over Ping-Pong tables and the space was festooned with paper garlands and handmade decorations. As we walked across the linoleum floor, I couldn’t help but think that as some band played old hits by INXS and the Chili Peppers, couples would be dancing next to a corpse.

We walked to the wall dividing the sports hall from the basketball court and the bleachers. Sweat was beaded on Maxime’s temples, and dark stains were spreading under the arms of his linen jacket. As we took the last few steps, he faltered and finally froze, as though unable to move, as though the concrete wall were physically repelling him. I pressed my hand against the wall, trying to keep my emotions in check. This was not a mere partition; it was a one-meter-thick load-bearing wall that spanned the twenty-meter width of the gym. Images once more flashed through my mind; for twenty-five years, generations of teenagers had come here to train, to sweat, oblivious to the dead body hidden in this gym.

“Since I’m a city councilor, I was able to talk to the contractor doing the demolition,” Maxime said.

“How do they plan to go about it?”

“First thing Monday, the mechanical shovels and the wrecking balls will get to work. These guys are pros, they’re going to raze this place in less than a week.”

“So, in theory, the body might be discovered the day after tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips.

“Is there any chance they might miss it?”

“You’re kidding, right? There’s no way.” He rubbed his eyelids. “The body was wrapped in a double layer of tarp. Even after twenty-five years there’ll be a pile of bones. All work will be immediately stopped while the police search for clues.”

“How long will it take to positively identify the remains?”