Kim did so, and Bryant followed.
‘We are so sorry for your loss,’ Bryant said, as Mr Coffee-Todd joined them.
The couple sat on separate sofas.
‘We understand this is a difficult time,’ Kim said. ‘But we need to ask you some questions about Shaun.’
‘Of course but surely it was just some kind of accident…’
‘This was no accident, sir,’ she said.
‘What are you talking about?’ he asked, frowning. ‘We’ve been told it was a reaction to something he ate. He has a nut allergy,’ he said, as though this explained everything.
‘We’re aware of that, but there are other—’
‘But Principal Thorpe said—’
‘Principal Thorpe is not a pathologist, sir, and has not carried out the post-mortem on your child.’ Kim hadn’t meant to sound so brutal, but she could only indulge them for so long.
A penny dropped somewhere behind Louise’s eyes.
‘Sadie Winters too?’ she asked.
‘It’s fair to say we are investigating the deaths of both children,’ she offered.
‘So, you’re saying that both of our children were murdered?’ Anthony asked, with disbelief.
Kim nodded, understanding they would be suitably shocked.
The horror shone from Louise’s eyes. ‘But why? I mean… who would want to hurt our…’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Anthony said. ‘It’s some kind of accident. They both are. No one would want to hurt Sadie either. She was a lovely girl. I’m sure there’s some kind of—’
‘You know Sadie well?’ Kim asked.
‘Of course. Our families have been friends for years. Saffie and Sadie are like cousins to our…’ His words trailed away as he realised that two of the three children he’d just mentioned were now dead.
‘I’m sorry but I think you’ve made a mistake…’
‘Mr Coffee-Todd,’ she said, firmly, having wished to spare them the details. ‘Your son had two peanuts wedged in his throat.’
Louise’s head whipped around. ‘Shaun would never have—’
‘Precisely,’ Kim said. ‘We understand he managed his condition very well and would never have chosen to eat nuts.’
‘But murder?’ Anthony asked, running his fingers through his hair. ‘Surely an accident or some kind of prank that went—’
‘“A prank”?’ Kim asked, interrupting him and remembering some of the things Dawson had talked about. ‘Did Shaun belong to any of those secret clubs?’
There was not a second’s hesitation as Mr Coffee-Todd nodded his head proudly. ‘Yes, officer, Shaun was Six of Spades.’
Forty-Six
Geoffrey Piggott hurtled into his dorm room and aimed for his bed in the corner. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead from the sprint from his history class as well as the knowledge that he could have sworn his essay on the French Revolution had been folded inside the pocket of his backpack.
When called to produce it he had searched and searched, feeling his face redden and his armpits grow moist as the attention of the whole classroom had been focused on him. He’d found himself wishing that nice policeman would walk in and rescue him from humiliation as he had the other day. But he hadn’t, and Mrs Tennison had ordered him to go and find it. He had ignored the sighs and jeering and the missile that had caught the back of his head as he’d left the classroom.
As he rushed back he tried to remember the events of the night before.