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you think
might have reason to do something like this?
    There were a few questions that set
me a little on edge, however – Why do you think no one else saw the
body as they went past? Had you ever seen the victim before? Had you
ever been in contact with them before the discovery?
    I looked at the headmaster as the
questions began to make me feel uncomfortable, as if implying that I
was the killer or in some other way involved. Father Benedict,
however, said nothing, and neither did Mr Somers, leaving me to
answer for myself.
    “Sorry for the questions, Joe,”
Richards said as Jones finished taking down notes. “We’re in no
way implying that you had anything to do with the murder, but we need
to ask these sorts of questions as a standard part of the
investigation. I think we’re done here now, Father,” he turned to
the headmaster. “We’ll be in touch later on.”
    “Thank you,” Father Benedict
said, rising from his chair to shake their hands and show them out.
    “Is that everything?” I asked
the headmaster, keen to get away from the office and back to the
sanctuary of my dormitory as soon as possible.
    “There is one more thing,” the
headmaster said, indicating the man on the sofa behind me, who came
over to where I was sitting. “Have you met Steve Martin, the school
psychologist?”
    Eh? I thought, automatically
standing and shaking the man’s hand as he offered it to me.
    “Ho ho, not that Steve
Martin, I assure you,” the man said, wearing a beaming smile. “My
stand-up career was quite short-lived, I can assure you. But no, I
take my work seriously and don’t make fun of any of my patients.”
    “Are you new?” I asked,
wondering if the school had drafted someone new in, to help any of
the boys traumatised by recent events talk about it.
    “Mr Martin has been working with
the school for quite some time,” Mr Somers informed me. “Luckily,
he doesn’t have to make too many visits.”
    “I know that what you saw couldn’t
have been a very nice experience, so I’m here if you need any help
coping, Joe,” Martin explained. “I thought I would come by today
to see if there was anything you wanted to talk about?”
    “Um ... no,” I said, looking to
the headmaster and my housemaster. “I’m okay for the moment. Just
want to focus on with my coursework and get ready for my mock GCSEs.”
I hoped I wasn’t sounding rude by dismissing the man so quickly.
    “Okay, that’s no problem,”
Martin smiled again. “It’s good to carry on and focus on your
assignments. I don’t work far away and can be here whenever you
want. You need only let the headmaster or the nurse know if there are
things you want to talk about.”
    I nodded, but added nothing more.
    “Well, okay, I think that’s all
we needed you for, Joe,” Father Benedict said, moving to the door
and opening it to allow me to leave. “Thank you.”

    ~ ~ ~

    “Some parents obviously hate their
children, as they thought they’d leave them here overnight, hoping
they’d get fucking strangled, too.”
    I knew to whom the obnoxious tone
belonged as I made the return trip to Butcher, moving past the Marble
Stairs that led to all five floors of the main school building. I
tried to avoid making eye contact with the three sixth formers
walking up the stairs to the same level as me, but sadly I failed.
Craig Priest, Orson Bishop and Stefan Blanc. It was Priest that had
made the earlier quip. I subconsciously quickened my step to get away
from them.
    “Oi, Crotty, was that police car
for you?” Priest asked. I ignored him. “Oi, you stupid prick;
don’t pretend you didn’t hear me.”
    I scowled inwardly and turned to
face him. “Not for me, no. They came to talk to the headmaster and
just wanted to know what I saw.”
    “Didn’t you tell them that it
was you?” Priest asked.
    I glared, but said nothing.
    “Hey, Crotty, is it true that your
parents never wanted you?” Priest asked then.
    “What?”
    “I’ve heard that