‘As I recall, Michael Fincher’s parents went to the police after Gary came forward, but Reynolds was dead by then and they didn’t get any cooperation from the university either. To be honest, I don’t think there was any appetite to pursue Reynolds even when he was alive. The Finchers aside, none of the parents of the dead boys really wanted to bring a complaint. It was too awful and too painful and there was probably some concern that their boys would be labelled homosexual. There was still shame or public opprobrium attached to being gay, and in those days, the assumption was that if a boy had “allowed” himself to be raped then it must be because he was gay. Men like Reynolds get away with rape because they know that their victims aren’t likely to report it. Back then even more than now. It was the perfect storm of privilege, denial and homophobia. He might have exploited the fact that the boys were over eighteen and officially adults so it would be easier for a predator to hide behind a fiction of consent, but if you think about it, those boys really had no choice in the matter. Reynolds was entirely responsible for their academic futures. And there was also the terror of being exposed. The shame of what had happened. It probably didn’t help that Reynolds was a lawyer, incredibly well connected, and nobody wanted to accuse him outright, even after his death. So the whole thing died on the vine.’

Alex is shaking his head.

‘Oh, and Reynolds had an accomplice of sorts. A young woman who worked in his department. Fiercely clever, wildly ambitious. I interviewed her but the story moved on and I didn’t follow up. As I recall, she was his PhD student and protégée. I’m guessing that her career depended on keeping him sweet. He might have promised her something particular, a promotion maybe, in exchange for her loyalty, but if he did, I never managed to find any evidence of that. I’ve no doubt she knew about it though, or that she lied to protect Reynolds. Can’t for the life of me remember her name. It’ll be here somewhere. I’d love to know what became of her. Quite the piece of work.’

Anne shuffles a paper and, catching Alex’s eye, says, ‘I know that look. You’re about to tell me, aren’t you?’

‘Yes. Her name was Madeleine Ince.’

Anne snaps her fingers. ‘That’s it!’ Her gaze lights on Alex then Honor, then back to Alex. ‘What?’ The eyes blading left and right. A sudden intake of breath and something between shock and excitement scudding across the elegant features.

‘Good God, I can see it in your faces. You know her, don’t you?’

Chapter 37

Cullen