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pathologist couldn’t be sure exactly when the rape had taken place, but the CCTV camera that should have been covering the area the kid’s room was in had been moved the week before, so anything’s possible.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Why was he raped? How the hell should I know?’
    ‘I meant why was the camera moved?’
    Dawes laughed. ‘Sorry … apparently there’d been a lot of stuff going missing from the dispensary, heavy-duty painkillers or what have you, so they stuck the camera on that instead. Akhtar probably knew where the camera was. Knew nobody would be watching when he started popping his pills.’
    Thorne thought about that. ‘No other cameras?’
    ‘One on the entrance to the wing and one inside another of the private rooms. Bugger all on any of them.’
    Looking across the playground, Thorne could see Holland talking to Sue Pascoe by the main doors into the school. Holland said something and Pascoe laughed.
    ‘What’s the big drama anyway?’ Dawes asked. ‘Your DCI was a bit vague.’
    Thorne guessed that Brigstocke had simply been in a hurry, but saw no reason to keep Dawes in the dark about what was happening. He gave him the highlights.
    ‘I’d love to say I was surprised,’ Dawes said.
    ‘Sorry?’
    ‘The father always looked to me like he was close to the edge. You know what I mean?’
    ‘Why don’t you tell me?’
    ‘Well, for a kick-off he went a bit mental after the inquest, shouting and screaming at the coroner. At anybody who would listen, basically. Going on about a cover-up, telling us we’d got it wrong, all that.’
    ‘When was this?’
    ‘A couple of weeks ago. Yeah, he was definitely cracking up, I reckon.’
    Pressed for time as he was, Thorne was not about to let this one go. ‘Again, you didn’t think it might be worth picking up the phone and letting us know?’
    ‘Letting you know what exactly? That some newsagent was losing the plot? You’re being stupid.’
    ‘You’re an idiot,’ Thorne said. Dawes started to protest, but Thorne hung up, and went to meet Donnelly who was coming towards him across the playground.
    ‘The wife’s arrived,’ Donnelly said. The superintendent nodded towards the main gates and Thorne turned to watch a WPC helping a middle-aged Indian woman out of a squad car. ‘Nadira.’
    Thorne remembered her. The woman looked every bit as dazed, as lost, as she had the last time he’d seen her. The day her son had been sent to prison. ‘I could really do with talking to her,’ Thorne said. He looked at his watch. It was more than half an hour since he had spoken to Helen Weeks and she had relayed Akhtar’s instructions. ‘Why don’t I do it on the way to Barndale?’
    Donnelly thought about it. ‘What if we need her here? Sue Pascoe thinks she might be able to use her. Get her to talk to her husband.’
    ‘So send a car to follow me and bring her back afterwards,’ Thorne said. ‘I only need ten minutes.’
    They both looked up at the sound of a helicopter overhead. Thorne was impressed at the scale of the police operation until he saw the Sky logo on the aircraft’s side. He looked at Donnelly.
    ‘It was only a matter of time,’ Donnelly said.
    A few seconds later, Chivers came marching through the gates and across the playground. He was pointing angrily at the circling helicopter. ‘You need to get them out of here now,’ he said.
    Donnelly muttered something about the freedom of the press, but Chivers was having none of it.
    ‘Listen, we’ve not got a clue about what our target is up to behind those shutters, right? But if he’s got a TV in there, thanks to those idiots he’s going to know exactly what we’re doing. Do I make my point?’
    Donnelly nodded. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
    ‘So, what about the wife then?’ Thorne asked.
    Donnelly looked flustered. It was clear that Chivers hadn’t finished with him yet. ‘Ten minutes,’ he said.
    Thorne walked towards his car, beckoning Holland away from his