That pretty much tallied with everyone they’d interviewed who might have seen Damon on the night he died. Some admitted they had spotted him but that he’d left the party early, others said they hadn’t seen him at all. The one thing they had in common was that nobody said anything to criticise Holden’s version.

‘Did things like hell week ever happen after Halloween?’ Jessica asked.

Liam shook his head. ‘Not that I ever saw. The party signalled the end of all that – if you got that far, then you’d earned everyone’s respect and you got on with it.’

Jessica had nothing left to ask, and from the look on Archie’s face neither did he. They’d have to speak to Holden again, perhaps even charge him with assault if they could make someone speak – but if any hazing Damon had had to go through was over by Halloween, then what had happened to him on the November night he died?

14

Jessica called the station when they got back to the car. The media appeal for information about Cassie’s death had barely got off the ground because of the lack of interest. They were following up a few lines of inquiry but nothing that had anyone excited. As for the list of seventy locals with a previous history of violence, all but nine had been eliminated as definitely being somewhere else, being in prison or, in one case, having died the year before.

That’s what you called an alibi.

She told the officers to arrange for all nine to be brought in for interview later that afternoon. Even if it was nothing to do with them, there was a chance they mixed in the circles where someone might know something. It was desperation tactics already.

With that sorted, it was time to talk to Holden again: this time with a tape recorder and video camera running. Considering it was his day off, Archie seemed particularly in the mood for round two with ‘posh boy’. After first trying his flat, a swanky studio apartment overlooking Salford Quays, they found him at the rowing clubhouse. Jessica knew something was different the moment they walked in. Instead of the athletic gear from before, Holden was wearing a smart suit with a tie and recently shined shoes. He was chatting to someone on his phone but hung up when he saw them, acknowledging Jessica with a clipped nod and ‘Inspector’.

‘What’s with the get-up?’ Jessica asked, as Holden led them across to the bar area where there was a circular table that had three chairs placed around it.

He took a seat, leaving them standing as he replied. ‘I thought it was time for a change.’

‘To the untrained eye, it could seem as if you were waiting for us.’

‘What exactly do you want?’

‘We’ve been speaking to a few of your members – current and former. We’ve heard some very interesting stories about things that go on here.’

‘Like what?’

‘Hell week, for one.’

Holden shrugged dismissively.

‘Don’t you have anything to say?’ Jessica added.

‘I think I’ll call my lawyer.’

On arriving at Longsight Police Station, Holden had gone downstairs to meet with his solicitor. Jessica hung around upstairs asking where her nine ‘people of interest’ for Cassie’s murder were as officers hurried around making excuses. When it was clear she was going to have to wait regardless, she ushered Archie into her office and closed the door.

‘Enjoying your day off?’ she asked.

‘I was hoping posh boy was going to be a little unhappier about coming in for interview.’

‘Hmm, I wouldn’t say “hoping” but I wasn’t expecting him to cooperate either. Somewhere along the line, news of your phone calls to current and former club members has got back to him.’

After Holden had had an hour with his solicitor, Jessica finally got into interview room one, with her and Archie on one side of the table, Holden and the legal representative on the other. The student’s suit was marginally sharper than his solicitor’s but there wasn’t much in it as the pair sat impassively opposite them, looking somehow resigned and defiant at the same time.

Jessica told them she had first-hand witness testimony that the rowing club hazed new members, leaving it slightly woolly that she had no proof about what had happened to that year’s intake, specifically Damon.

As it was, Jessica didn’t even have to let Archie loose before Holden started telling them what they wanted to know.

‘It’s not what you think,’ he said, not looking up as his solicitor watched on silently.

‘What do I think?’

‘Damon’s death was nothing to do with me.’

‘Let’s go backwards. Tell me about hell week.’

Holden glanced at his solicitor and then up at the camera high in the corner recording everything he said. ‘It’s a silly tradition.’

‘Something you’re in charge of as student president?’

He looked at Jessica properly for the first time but there was no focus to his gaze. ‘To a degree.’

‘Did Damon Potter take part in hell week?’

There was a pause punctuated by a sideways glance towards his solicitor. ‘Yes.’

Holden gave the names of the other half-dozen first-year students involved but refused to implicate any of the other senior members in whatever had gone on. Jessica didn’t know if the loyalty should go in his favour considering he was apparently the ring-leader, or if he was trying to cover up for others. For now, it didn’t matter.

‘What did you force the new members to do?’ Jessica asked.

‘It was their decision – nobody coerced anyone to do anything.’

‘But they wouldn’t have been allowed to join your club if they didn’t undertake your challenges – so the pressure to take part came from you, didn’t it?’

Another glance at his solicitor: ‘I suppose. Everyone wants to be wanted, don’t they? It’s about feeling a part of something.’

Jessica paused for a moment: he couldn’t have said a truer thing. ‘What did you do to them?’

‘Immature things: drinking, exercising, eating things.’

‘Did you beat them?’

‘Yes.’

‘I need to know specifics.’

And so he gave them, talking for half an hour about the tasks he had set for the new members. Detail after detail of activities meant to degrade and humiliate. It wasn’t so much the individual aspects that Jessica found disturbing, more the fact that someone could speak so matter-of-factly about thinking them up. She had interviewed serial murderers and psychos in the past who would hurt and kill for their own gratification but Jessica didn’t get the sense that Holden had enjoyed any of it – more that he saw hell week as a custom it was his duty to maintain.

The one thing she did get the sense of was that, if Damon was looking happier in the few days before he died, it was likely because he had got to the end of hell week unscathed.

Holden’s solicitor was silent throughout, listening and making the odd note but never interrupting. By the time his client had finished, Jessica knew they could definitely charge the student with actual bodily harm and sexual assault at the minimum. Depending on how the Crown Prosecution Service read things, it could even be revised up to grievous bodily harm if any of the victims made statements. Even without that, his own confessions would condemn him – and in any normal situation, his solicitor would have stopped him from implicating himself.

Something was definitely going on but she still had a couple of key questions.

‘How much does James Jefferies know?’ Jessica asked.

The question surprised Holden, who reeled back in his seat. ‘James?’

‘He’s your life president, isn’t he?’

‘Yes . . . but that’s more of a figurehead position. He might come to the odd practice and big race day but that’s about it. The guy’s in a wheelchair.’

That was something Jessica didn’t know. Why hadn’t anyone told her?