The man chuckled again. "I've done my share and it was enough for me."

"I... I don't understand."

"I'm here to tell you how to solve the case. And to tell you where Matthew Daley is."

"Who are you?" asked Robbins.

The man stretched. "Nice to be able to do that again without the pains in my chest."

"Without the..." Robbins sat up straight in his chair. He shouldn't have been too shocked, though. It wasn't the first dead man he'd encountered this week. "Croft?"

"Bingo. How are you finding my old job? It's a killer, isn't it?" This last line was said in all seriousness.

"You... you're not really here."

"Then where am I? Feels like I'm here." He put his feet up on the desk, pulled a cigarette case out of his pocket, removed one and tapped it on the silver metal. "You got a light?"

"I don't smoke."

"Wise man," said Croft. He held up the cigarette between thumb and forefinger. "I smoked forty of these a day from being a kid. And I used to keep a bottle of scotch in that bottom drawer just there." Croft gestured towards Robbins' side of the desk. "Told myself it was for medicinal purposes. What a load of crap. You were just thinking you could use a belt yourself though, weren't you? Don't suppose there's any still in there?" He flapped his hand. "Naw, what am I thinking. I've been gone too long for that."

Robbins didn't know how to answer him, so he didn't bother; he just reached down and opened the drawer. Robbins produced the bottle of Milk of Magnesia he kept hidden away. Croft let out another long laugh as Robbins took a swig.

"Wasn't quite what I had in mind," said the erstwhile DCI finally. "You know, you should get that stomach sorted out. I left things till the last minute and look what happened."

"It's fine," stated Robbins.

"Ignorance is bliss, eh? We're not that dissimilar, you and I. You're a man after my own heart."

"With the greatest respect," Robbins told him, "I certainly hope not."

Croft took a drag on his cigarette. "I'd imagine it was quite a thing when you realized about Matthew."

"That's one way of putting it. Now, you said you had some information about the case."

Croft smiled again. "Getting straight to it, I like that in a DCI. Very good. Life's too short, if you'll pardon the expression."

"The information," Robbins pressed.

"It doesn't become clear you see... until afterwards. Then you know everything. There are no secrets."

"I'm not following you."

"Not yet, no. Matthew's returned to find his peace, Robbins. His was such a sudden passing."

"I know. I saw the pictures."

"I saw the body," Croft reminded him.

"You're telling me he's after revenge on the person who did this?" Robbins pointed to the files.

"He's being tested."

"And you know who that person is."

Croft smiled one last time and blew out a stream of smoke. "Things aren't always clear cut, you know. Good and evil are rarely as easy to spot as we think. It's all a matter of judgment."

"Get on with it," snapped Robbins.

"Something's coming, Steven. The world's not going to be the same soon."

"It isn't now," said Robbins. "Tell me."

The phone rang loudly in his ear. Robbins woke with a start on the desk. He looked over at the empty chair opposite.

The ringing persisted and he picked up the receiver. "Robbins."

"Steve, I need to talk to you. I've seen Matthew."

"What?"

"He gave me the slip again, but listen... I think I know where we can find him. I think he's going to return to the place where this all began. The place where he died."

"No, Beth," said Robbins, his nose twitching at the smell of smoke which lingered in the air. "He's going after the person who killed him."

Chapter Twelve

They sat in silence.

Robert Hills was tracing the pattern on the carpet with his eyes. Caroline was nursing her third brandy of the evening. She'd done her best to explain, but it was so difficult.

"There's a police car outside," he'd said as he returned from the bank, then he'd seen her red and puffy eyes. "What's happened? Are you all right?"

Are you all right?It was a good question. Would she ever be all right again after today? "Something happened at school."

"Jason?"

"He's in his room."

Rob began towards the stairs, but she stopped him. "What's happened?" he asked again, his voice cracking. So she took him into the living room and she told him. Just like that. As if she was telling him they'd had a burst water pipe or the microwave was on the fritz. He'd looked at her that same way she'd looked at the detective and the doctor, like she was mad.

"Caroline, Matthew is dead."

"Tell that to Jason," she'd replied, a little too harshly. "Tell that to my son."

" Ourson," he corrected.

Caroline didn't miss a beat. "He saw him."

"Saw someone who said he was Matthew, you mean."

"He saw... The police have... Rob, they dug up his grave."

"What?" He walked over to the fireplace and leaned a hand on the mantle. "This is ridiculous."

"I know... I know."

"How many of those have you had?" he asked, pointing to the drink.

"What, you think I'm making this up? You think I'm drunk?"

Rob rubbed his eyes. "No, it's just... How can it possibly be your dead husband? It can't be him. People don't just----"

"Come back from the dead?" she finished for him. "No, they don't, do they."

He couldn't say anything to that; they both knew it was impossible. Only here was his wife, the woman he trusted more than anyone in the world, telling him these things. "There has to be some kind of terrible mistake."

"I don't know. I just don't know."

"What did they tell you exactly?"

So she went through what the policeman and doctor had said. How they'd exhumed the body gaining authority because the case was still open on Matthew. How they'd been called to the school after he'd made contact with Jason. Everything. She'd laid it all out for him, and as she spoke it felt like she was explaining the wild plot of some sci-fi film. Caroline wasn't sure how much of it Robert had taken in, or how much she had herself, but when she'd finished he said: "So why are the police still here?"

"In case he comes back," she explained.

"To see Jason, or to see you?"

Caroline's eyes dropped to the floor. He'd slumped down in the chair then, and not said a word since. Now someone needed to speak. If they didn't do it soon Caroline feared they might never speak again. That they might just go about their normal (and what was normal anymore anyway?) lives in total silence from that moment on. "Say something, Rob," she pleaded.

He looked up at her. "What do you want me to say?" His tone was hollow and weird.

She felt the tears welling again and couldn't stop them coming this time. "Say that you love me, and that everything's going to be okay."

Robert said nothing at first, and then her whole body began to shake with sobs. He got up and went to her. She dropped the brandy on the floor as she got up and fell into his embrace. He held her tightly and she continued to cry, both of them with wasted expressions on their faces.