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‘I’m not convinced, Poe,’ Nightingale said. ‘If I do what you’re asking on the basis of a Monty Python song I’m going to end up as a cautionary tale on the National Investigators’ Exam.’

‘I’m telling you, ma’am,’ Poe insisted, ‘when I walked the length of the main hall I got to the jolly rotten bit of “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life”. When I was in the basement with Joshua, I only got to the line about life’s gristle. I know it’s not a scientific way of measuring distance—’

‘What, really?’

‘But I’m telling you – even taking the stage into account, the basement is at least ten feet shorter in length than the gymnasium.’

‘It could have been built that way.’

Instead of responding, Poe pressed his hand against the basement wall. The mortar was smooth and the bricks were cherry-red. Not the pale red of bricks that had been weathered by time, these were the same colour they’d have been on the day they were baked. The question was: when had they been laid – at the same time as the three other walls in the basement, or was this wall newer? Poe thought a different brickie had laid these ones, but he was wise enough to know that could be confirmation bias.

Nightingale ran her hands through her hair, damp with sweat, her resolve weakening. ‘We’d need to measure it properly,’ she said.

‘Of course.’

‘And we’ll need a structural engineer to do an assessment before we can remove so much as one brick.’

‘That’s very sensible.’

‘Which will take at least three days.’

‘Maybe even longer,’ Poe said.

Nightingale turned on her heels and said to the men and women in the basement, ‘OK, everyone out. Get some fresh air while I make a couple of phone calls.’ She followed her staff but turned at the bottom of the stairs. She gave Poe a look. It was only fleeting, but it was the look he’d been expecting.

As soon as she’d left, Poe grabbed one of the sledgehammers the CSI techs had used to break up the concrete floor.

‘Whatever are you doing, Poe?’ Bradshaw asked.

‘What’s it look like I’m doing, Tilly?’

‘It looks like you’re about to knock down that wall. But I know that can’t be true as Superintendent Nightingale has just left to make sure we have permission.’

‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ Poe said. It had been a while since he had held a sledgehammer and it took him a moment to get used to the unfamiliar weight.

‘I don’t think there is another way of looking at it, Poe.’

‘Superintendent Nightingale and I shared a glance before she left.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘She passed on an unspoken message. She wants me to buy her seventy-two hours. That’s how long it’ll take to get the permission she needs.’

‘That’s because if it isn’t a false wall, it might be a load-bearing wall,’ Linus said.

‘But what if it isn’t a load-bearing wall, Snoopy?’

‘What if it isn’t . . . ?!’ Linus spluttered. ‘That’s not how risk assessments work!’

‘The only thing a risk assessment will achieve is delay. Some health-and-safety cube dweller will insist we can’t go ahead until a natterjack toad survey has been carried out and the ceiling is shored up with props and jacks.’

‘Linus is right, Poe,’ Bradshaw said. ‘Doing this is dangerous.’

‘Thank you, Tilly,’ Linus said. ‘Someone has to be responsible for thinking about—’

‘You’ll need safety goggles,’ Bradshaw nipped in, passing Poe a pair of Perspex glasses.

‘Oh my God, you two are bloody nuts!’

‘Feel free to leave,’ Poe said.

‘Well, we’re certainly not standing around waiting for the roof to come down on our heads. We’ll see you outside. Come on, Tilly.’

‘I’m staying here, Linus.’

‘And I’m going to insist you come with me.’

After Poe and Bradshaw had stopped laughing, Poe said, ‘Piss off, Snoopy.’

Linus burned bright red before turning on his heels and stomping out of the basement. Bradshaw watched him disappear up the basement steps. ‘He’s an idiot, isn’t he, Poe?’

‘He is, Tilly. But that doesn’t mean he’s wrong. Perhaps you’d better wait upstairs too.’

‘No, Poe.’

‘This isn’t one of those times when we both have to be in danger, Tilly. It’s OK for one of us to be safe.’

‘That’s not why I’m staying, Poe.’

‘It isn’t?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think you can see it yet, but this case has taken a huge toll on you.’

‘Oh, I can see it. I don’t understand why that means you have to stand under a collapsing roof.’

‘If this is a false wall, you shouldn’t be on your own when you see what’s behind it.’

Poe rested the sledgehammer on his foot, winced as he remembered he wasn’t wearing steel-toe-capped boots. ‘You’re a good friend, Tilly,’ he said. He then grasped the handle, lifted it into position and widened his stance so his feet were shoulder-width apart. He aimed at a spot on the wall about four feet from the ground and smashed the sledgehammer against it as hard as he could.