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‘Cornelius put these tattoos on me, Sergeant Poe,’ Cobb said. ‘I have no idea what they represent.’

Which was predictable. It was the only explanation Cobb could give that wouldn’t immediately land him in jail. After he’d let Poe into his living room, Cobb disappeared into the kitchen to get a beaker. After he’d filled it with neat vodka, he stripped down to his underwear, a pair of stained, white Y-fronts, and showed him the six alphanumeric tattoos on his scrawny frame.

Poe took photographs and emailed them to Bradshaw. He didn’t need her to tell him they were the same as Cornelius Green’s – he was seeing them in his sleep. Bradshaw would confirm it later, but the shape and slant of the letters and numbers seemed to match the tattoos on Cornelius Green and Nathan Rose. Poe was certain Cobb was telling the truth about that at least: Cornelius Green had tattooed him.

‘Really?’ Poe said. ‘And you didn’t think to ask what they meant? You just let him tattoo you without asking a single question? Why do I find that implausible?’

Cobb sighed. ‘Bluster and unpleasant threats aside, I’m going to assume you’re not a complete imbecile, Sergeant Poe; if you say my tattoos are the locations of graves then I’m taking that as a fact.’

Poe rolled his eyes. ‘That’s very generous of you.’

‘I’m also taking as a fact there are bodies in those graves, bodies that shouldn’t be there.’

‘The SIO is applying for exhumation orders as we speak,’ Poe said. ‘It’s why I’m here on my own.’

‘That sounds like a lengthy process.’

Poe shrugged. Exhumations were notoriously complex. It wasn’t a case of simply getting the nod from the coroner. It was a traumatic event for the deceased’s next of kin, so they had to be informed before an application could be approved, and in some cases they had to grant permission. The site had to be evaluated, as reopening graves was a high-risk health-and-safety activity. It was dangerous. Microorganisms in bodily fluids, blood and contaminated soil could be highly infectious. The risk of airborne diseases being released was real. The graves could collapse. And at all times respect had to be shown to the deceased, which, given what they expected to find, was going to be a challenge.

‘It might take some time,’ Poe admitted. ‘But we know where the graves are and the bodies under the coffins aren’t going anywhere. The superintendent has already put police officers in each graveyard to make sure no one is tempted to go and do some housekeeping. Maybe remove what shouldn’t have been there in the first place.’

‘What’s your point?’

‘My point is, we will exhume those bodies, Mr Cobb. And when we do, we’re going to science the shit out of them. There will be some loss of forensic evidence because of the timescale, but that loss won’t be absolute. If you were involved in this, we will find out.’

‘So, what? This is my chance to come clean?’

‘I’ll start you off, shall I?’ Poe said. ‘The burial dates of the graves all coincide with off-the-books courses run by Cornelius Green, courses that appeared to stop after you had your big falling-out. When I asked Nathan Rose what had happened on his course, he killed himself rather than answer our questions.’

Cobb blinked rapidly for a moment. His rounded shoulders slumped even more. He seemed disorientated. That had hit home. ‘Nathan’s dead?’ he said. ‘When?’

‘Recently.’

For a moment Poe thought Cobb was going to burst into tears. His breathing became shallow and it was a full minute before he got it under control. He put his hands in his lap and stared at them.

‘There’s no one left then,’ he whispered.

‘What does that mean, Mr Cobb?’

Cobb looked up. ‘Can I pour you a vodka, Sergeant Poe?’ he said.

‘No, I don’t want a bloody vodka. I want—’

‘Have a vodka, Sergeant Poe.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I have a story and I don’t want to be drinking alone when I tell it.’