"Now, that Friday morning, you were the first to find the body. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"What time was that?"

"God. It's in the statement, I must have told these oafs a hundred times."

"What time?"

"God, all right. About half-past five on Friday morning, give or take five minutes."

"And you didn't see anyone else in the corridor when you went to Kitchener's room?"

"No."

Greg tightened the focus of his espersense. "How about a presence you weren't sure about? A shadow? A noise? Something you didn't want to mention to the police because you couldn't prove it, or you thought it would sound stupid."

"No. Nothing. Nobody."

"Where were you before you discovered the body?"

"In my room."

"Was anybody with you?"

"No."

"Half-past five is a funny time to be visiting Kitchener. Was there a reason?"

She rubbed an index finger along the bottom of her nose. "So I would be there when he woke up. Edward didn't like to be alone."

"Nicholas Beswick said you went into Kitchener's room at quarter-past one that morning. Is that true?"

"Poor old Nicky. Yes, it's true. You want to know something else? I was having sex with Edward, I had been for three months. And to save you the trouble of working it out, he was forty-four years older than me."

"You had sex with him at quarter-past one?"

"Yes."

"When did you leave?"

"Isabel and I packed in about half-past two. Edward was nearly asleep by then anyway."

"Why not stay?"

"Edward snores. Silly, isn't it? But I'm a light sleeper, as well as being a virtual insomniac. I only need two or three hours' sleep each night. So out I creep after he's nodded off, then I get my head down for a while, and I'm back snuggled up beside him when he wakes. He probably knew, but…"

"So everybody would know that you left him alone for a few hours each night?"

"Every peeping Tom, yes."

"Which of the other students knew about you and Kitchener?"

"I would say all of them. Even Nicky, though he would never dare talk about it outright."

"So it was common knowledge?"

"Yes."

"What about the housekeeper and her staff?"

"Oh, yes, Mrs Mayberry knew. You can't keep secrets from the person who collects your sheets."

"Did you wash after you left Kitchener?"

Rosette sat up straighter. "Pardon me?"

"Did you wash, take a shower, bathe?"

"Yes. I had a shower afterwards. I always do."

"How long had Isabel Spalvas been having an affair with Kitchener?"

Rosette gave him a derisive grin, and started to laugh. "I'm sorry. The way you said it. 'An affair'. Like some Victorian aunt. Rutland really is the back of beyond, isn't it? Are you married until death do us part, Mr Mandel? Or may I call you Greg? Eleanor seems like quite a spectacular girl, physique-wise, that is. I saw the two of you on the channel newscasts at lunchtime."

"I'm happily married, thank you."

"And Julia Evans, no less, was at the ceremony. Your bridesmaid."

"Is that a problem for you?"

"No, an observation."

"Careful, your lawyer might stop this line of questioning." Matthew Slater shot Greg a look of undiluted malice. Rosette burst out laughing again.

"Oh, yes," she said. "I can see why they sent for you. Nobody gets off the hook when you're on their case, do they, Greg?"

"No. Now, Isabel Spalvas?"

"She wasn't having an affair, or whatever else you want to call it, with Edward."

"You said she was in his room for sex."

"She was there for pleasure, for interest, for self-exploration. I'm not saying they didn't have sex. They did. She also took some syntho. Perhaps it made it easier for her."

"Made what easier?"

"Sex with Edward. Oh, he was still reasonably capable. But he was sixty-seven, after all. You couldn't ignore it; not lie back and think of England. She found it difficult with me as well, to start with."

"You and Isabel made love?"

"I'm not sure about love, Greg, darling. But sex, yes. Edward enjoyed watching. She enjoyed it too, eventually, when the syntho was really boosting her. Am I turning you on, Greg?"

"No."

"Really? You surprise me. The first time I made this statement, all the boys in the office found an excuse to listen in." She cocked her head at Nevin. "Didn't you, Jonnie darling?"

Greg caught his mind clogging with fierce embarrassment.

"Was there any pressure placed on female students to sleep with Kitchener?" he asked.

"Not if you mean blackmail. Come to bed with me or I kick you out of the Abbey. Edward doesn't need to, he is… intriguing. Girl students are almost a double bluff. You understand? He tells the world he does. He tells us he wouldn't dream of it. And there he is, one of the geniuses of the age, complete with wicked reputation. Always there, day in, day out. He had this mockery for convention. He was so very clever at ridiculing any stricture society placed on his life. He makes you examine and challenge your own beliefs.

"That's why Isabel had joined us, she was probing her own limits, finding out where they lie. You can do that with Edward there to guide you. He made us feel safe, we trusted him. He'd never let us hurt ourselves, not with drugs or sex, or radical politics come to that. He knew what we were capable of, and showed us how to achieve it, intellectually, emotionally, physically. Launde was an incredible experience, spiritual more than anything else." She shook her head softly, re-emerging from the vortex of reminiscence.

Greg could perceive how sincere she was when she talked about Kitchener. Fondness for the old guru acted as a subtle reinforcement for the philosophies he had spun out. He was suddenly very curious about Edward Kitchener. How much of this professional dissident ideology had he believed in, all or none?

"How long had Isabel been taking part in these sessions with you and Kitchener?"

"Sessions! You have no soul, Greg, darling, no poetry. About a fortnight, I think. As soon as we came back from the New Year break."

"Did Nicholas Beswick know that Isabel was becoming involved with Kitchener?"

Rosette pursed her lips, contrite for once. Her thought currents were subdued. "Oh, dear little Nicky. No, he didn't know a thing about us until that night. Caught us sneaking down the corridor to Edward, he did. Such a shame. He is quite infatuated with Isabel, did you know that? Now that is authentic love, Romeo and Juliet revisited. Teasing him was such fun, it's so dreadfully easy. Nicky lacks that cosmopolitan touch necessary to survive adult life, he's just a country boy at heart. He makes me seem terribly jaded and old by comparison. Edward was delighted with him, of course."

"Why, 'of course'?"

"Because people like Nicky are the reason he founded Launde in the first place. Nicky is very intelligent, he's far smarter than I am. And if the four of you in this room were to add up your IQs, the figure would be less than half of mine. That gives you some idea of what he's like. But he's flawed; emotionally retarded, if you like. Edward called it perpetual adolescence. Whatever, Nicky has this terrible trouble relating to other people. And that is what Launde is for, to cure us of our adolescence, realign our thought patterns into sensible maturity. Edward plays the tyrant king to great effect, and the students bond together for mutual protection. You can't do anything else, survival depends on it. And for all its crudity, the technique works. Even with Nicky, although it was pretty slow going in his case, but there was definitely some progress. When he arrived, Nicky would sooner starve than ask someone to pass him a knife and fork.

"Then the evening before Edward was killed, Nicky actually answered me back at supper. Me! Edward didn't stop talking about it for the rest of the evening, he was simply over the moon. Then I went and ballsed it up by getting caught when I went and fetched Isabel out to play. Naughty me."