‘Do you have anything to do with organising things?’

‘Not really.’

‘We were told you had a position on the committee.’

The reply snapped back instantly: ‘What do you think that means?’

This was tough work.

‘That’s what I was hoping you could tell us . . .’

‘I’ll tell you what it means – it don’t mean shit. I’m an old man with a round piece of metal – these kids don’t want anything to do with me nowadays.’

‘We met the student president, Holden, and he seemed impressed by your achievements.’

‘Pah, these kids are all the same – they see an old fella in one of these chairs and think, “What does he know?” I know what it’s like – I only do these things because it’s a day out at the river in the sun and a free meal. Some of the girls are all right too, if you get what I mean.’

He winked at Jessica and she knew exactly what he meant.

‘We’ve heard disturbing reports about initiation ceremonies for new recruits,’ Jessica said. ‘What do you know about that?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You’ve never heard any rumours?’

James fixed Jessica with a fearsome stare, the type she’d rarely seen since the days when her dad had caught her up to no good. He didn’t need to say ‘are you questioning my honesty’ because everything about his gaze already said it.

‘You understand why I have to ask,’ Jessica added.

‘I told you I don’t know anything.’

‘How well do you know Holden Wyatt?’

‘I know the name – they have a new president every year. It’s nothing to do with me. I shake a few hands, turn up when I’m asked, and make a few phone calls now and then.’

‘Phone calls?’

James frowned, as if this was something he shouldn’t be questioned about. ‘Just because I’m in a chair, it doesn’t mean I can’t use a phone.’

‘Holden said that you called him and said that he should tell the police anything he knew about Damon’s death.’

‘Did he now . . . ? Was that the wrong thing to do?’

‘That’s not what I meant,’ Jessica replied. ‘I wondered which of the students you were calling – and why.’

Jessica suddenly found herself in a staring contest, locked in a battle of wills with a man in a wheelchair, neither of them wanting to give ground.

Unexpectedly, Archie’s was the voice of reason: ‘Can I see your medal?’

The man’s eyes snapped from Jessica to Archie, giving her the window to look away herself. A moment later, she could feel James searching for her gaze again but she refused to acknowledge it, even if she did still want an answer.

‘An Olympic bronze is impressive,’ Archie added. ‘I’ve never seen a medal before.’

James wheeled himself across to a cabinet, making sure his back shielded what he was doing. After a bit of fiddling, there was an electronic-sounding whirr and a pop, then he wheeled himself to the side, revealing what looked like the interior of a safe. Because it was inside a wooden cabinet, it was disguised from the outside by its innocuousness. He waved Archie across with a flick of his wrist and held out a brown-grey medal on a dark ribbon.

Considering the way he had asked Holden whether James had ‘fallen in’ because he’d only won bronze, Archie did a good job of portraying someone transfixed by what he was holding. Even Jessica didn’t know if the aggression towards Holden had been the act, or if this was one now. Either way, Archie knew what he was doing. With Holden, he had known who to be: off the leash, aggressive, intimidating. Here, he was respectful and interested. He asked about the year that James had won it, making a crude joke about the host nation that would’ve been entirely inappropriate anywhere else – except that James cracked and laughed himself. Suddenly, they were like grandfather and grandson, sharing stories and gags. All the time, Archie kept his hands on the medal, showing the reverence it was clear its owner thought it deserved.

Eventually, Archie handed it back. ‘Thank you,’ he said, as James returned it to the case. ‘I wish I’d tried a bit harder at things now. I can’t even imagine the amount of work that must have gone into winning that.’

James closed the cabinet and batted Archie away with a ‘bah!’ and a grin.

‘What I think my colleague was trying to establish,’ Archie said, ‘was how much contact you have with members of the club. You said you make the odd phone call . . .’

This time, James replied instantly. ‘Sometimes a few of them need a little encouragement, especially ahead of the big races. I have a word in their ears. I don’t remember the names half the time but they just need someone to tell them they can do it. It’s always better if it’s someone who’s been there and seen things.’

Jessica couldn’t help but wonder exactly which type of things he might have seen.

‘I thought you said he must’ve fallen in if he’d only won bronze,’ Jessica said as Archie drove – a privilege she rarely allowed anyone if she was in the car too.

‘I was hardly going to say that to him.’

‘So what do you really feel? Were you actually impressed by the medal?’

Archie kept one hand on the steering wheel and glanced sideways at her, grinning. ‘You do what you have to.’

That didn’t answer her question but Jessica let it go. ‘What do you think of him?’

‘He doesn’t seem to know much. I doubt he knew Damon’s name and he barely seemed to know Holden. He’s just someone they wheel out a few times a year – literally and figuratively. He probably likes the attention but doesn’t want to admit it, while they like being able to mention his name because he’s actually done something and most of them haven’t.’

Jessica agreed: it was an uncomfortable marriage of convenience.

As they headed back to the station, Jessica called Cole. He answered on the fourth ring, then asked her to wait. The line sounded dead as he put her on hold until, eventually, he returned with: ‘How was he?’

Jessica explained that James had told them very little.

‘As expected,’ Cole replied.

‘Is anything else going on?’

‘The other members of the rowing club have had a slight change of heart. When they’ve been asked specifically to remember when they saw Mr Wyatt on the night of the party, most can only say for certain that he was there at the beginning.’

In other words, they’d all subtly changed their stories.

‘Does that mean Holden no longer has an alibi for the night Damon was killed?’

‘That’s how it seems.’

‘How can we accept that a whole group of people have changed their statements at the same time?’

‘Before, we had a lot of people to interview in a short period. Now we’re asking very specific questions about timings and who saw what and when.’

Jessica knew that was how a lawyer might dress things up but it was nonsense. The students had previously told them that Holden had been present for the whole party. Now they were saying differently.

‘Some have said they’d heard rumours that Damon was going to go public about the hazing activities,’ Cole added. ‘That would give a motive.’

Jessica couldn’t hold back: ‘More like they’ve changed their stories because they’re all worried about their own roles in the initiations and they’ll say anything that gets them off the hook.’

‘Weren’t you the one who brought Holden in for questioning because you thought he knew more about the death than he was letting on?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘But what? This is only confirming what you were speculating about. Results have started to come back from everything that was found in the bin. There’s a trace of Holden on at least two separate items.’

‘Of course there is – he was at the club, no one’s disputing his whereabouts.’

‘That may be the case but, alongside his confession earlier and the statements from other club members, it’s all painting a picture.’

‘Are you saying Holden killed Damon and dumped the body in the bin at the back of the one place where it would be linked back to him?’