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one.’
    At least one of the Carrs preferred things to be cleaned away in that case – which explained a little about Nicholas’s room. Richard told them that his son’s room had been gone
through by the police but you wouldn’t know it to look at it. The bed was made with neat corners and tucked edges in a way that hardly anyone would be able to sleep in. There were two plump
pillows without the hollow in the centre from a dozing head, and underneath the bed, a neat row of shoes was lined up, heels facing outwards.
    If the bed had been completely remade, then what else had been moved?
    Jenny began taking photographs of the various corners as Andrew watched her work.
    ‘Do you think teenage lads are usually this tidy?’ he asked.
    ‘The ones I knew barely even changed their underwear, let alone lined up their shoes.’
    As Jenny opened the wardrobes and began flicking through the rows of shirts and tops, Andrew focused on the shelves running above the bed. There were a dozen or so real crime paperbacks next to
rows of computer game cases. Andrew opened the first few, noticing the correct disc in each box, with the pristine instruction booklet tucked neatly into the clips.
    Andrew turned to see Jenny sat cross-legged in the wardrobe, picking through a shoebox. ‘See anything?’
    ‘Not really. Some Top Trumps cards, an old mobile phone without a battery. There are a few boxes in here too from items he must’ve bought at some point. There’s one for a
PlayStation, with the receipt inside.’
    Perhaps the neatness ran in the family after all.
    Andrew sat on the floor and started tugging the shoes out from under the bed. He lifted up the overhanging covers and ducked underneath, pulling out a wide plastic tub from the far end, with a
bonus mouthful of dust.
    As he spluttered his way through scanning the contents, Andrew stopped to take in the room again. The walls were clean and unmarked by pieces of Blu Tack or other pins to hold up posters. The
windowsill and the rest of the surfaces were all clear and polished to within millimetres of their existence.
    ‘Jen . . .’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Have you found anything . . . well, normal, I suppose? Ornaments? Trophies? Medals or certificates?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Photos of mates?’
    ‘Nope, but everyone keeps that stuff on their phones nowadays.’
    ‘Come and have a look.’
    Jenny emerged from the wardrobe and scuttled across the carpeted floor until she was sitting next to Andrew and the plastic tub. It was about a metre long with low sides and packed with an
assortment of objects.
    ‘This was under his bed,’ Andrew continued. ‘It’s like his parents – probably his mum – couldn’t bear looking at the room with all of the clutter
around, so she put it in a box and shoved it out of the way.’
    Jenny began poking through the items, tugging out a film and holding it up. ‘“Killer Vampires versus Toxic Zombies”? Sounds good.’ She moved on to the next one.
‘“Attack of the Nightmare Mannequins” – I think I’ve seen that.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Probably on Channel Five or something. Look at this.’ She held another movie case in the air: ‘Night of the Killer Chainsaw Bitches’.
    Jenny flipped the case around and began reading, putting on a deep-toned continuity announcer’s voice: ‘What do you get when you cross a chainsaw factory with a bachelorette party
and an alien invasion? “Killer Chainsaw Bitches”! This is the movie your parents warned you about. BANNED in forty-four countries around the world, OUTLAWED in nineteen US states,
SLATED by the British Parliament, SLAMMED by the US Senate, this is the uncut version of “Killer Chainsaw Bitches” with twelve new minutes of never-seen-before gore, gore, gore!
Warning: if you have a heart condition, do NOT watch this movie.’
    She looked up at Andrew, verdict scathing: ‘Sounds shite.’
    Andrew couldn’t disagree.
    Jenny continued flicking through the items, taking out a framed