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‘Now Nathan is dead, there is no one else to corroborate what I’m about to tell you, Sergeant Poe,’ Cobb said. ‘Nothing we did was written down. If it goes further than the inside of my house, all you’ll have is the ramblings of a drunk. I’ll deny it the second the police doctor declares me sober enough to be interviewed.’

Poe didn’t think Cobb was drunk. Not any more. Poe thought Cobb was probably the soberest he’d been for years.

‘Knowing this, are you sure you want me to continue, Sergeant Poe?’ Cobb asked. ‘You can walk out of here now without understanding what happened. Think carefully before you answer because this isn’t something you can un-know.’

Poe didn’t hesitate. ‘Tell me everything,’ he said.

‘Very well.’ Cobb filled his beaker again. His hands, shaky before, were now as steady as a surgeon’s. ‘I’m not excusing my role in this,’ he said, ‘but at the time I genuinely thought I was helping those young boys. That I was literally saving them from hell.’

Poe believed him. Even if Cobb had been just another of Cornelius’s followers back then, he’d definitely been a zealot.

‘The first thing you need to know is these courses took place in the old school basement,’ Cobb continued. ‘In shadows and in secret. The student was locked in there at night and at no point was he allowed to mingle with anyone else on campus. At all times either Cornelius or I were present. We were there to offer support and to continue the therapy, but also to make sure they didn’t leave before it ended.’

Cobb took a drink. Shut his eyes as the vodka burned his throat.

‘The first thing we did was read and discuss carefully curated passages of the Bible,’ he continued. ‘This wasn’t just a soft lead into what was to come; it was important the student was clear about why he was there. Why what followed was necessary.’

‘And what did follow, Mr Cobb?’

‘Do you understand standard aversion therapy, Sergeant Poe?’

‘Just the basics,’ Poe replied. ‘It involves pairing unwanted behaviour with discomfort. Putting a bitter-tasting chemical on the fingernails to discourage nail-chewing could be classed as aversion therapy.’

‘That’s right,’ Cobb confirmed. ‘Like a dog being squirted with water every time it barks, the subject learns to associate the unwanted behaviour with an unpleasant experience. Eventually the unwanted behaviour is quelled. It’s a tried and tested psychological treatment.’

Poe didn’t think Edgar would learn anything from being repeatedly squirted in the face with cold water. He, however, would definitely learn how many bandages a dog bite to the hand required.

‘Have you seen A Clockwork Orange?’ Cobb asked.

Poe nodded. ‘I have.’

‘Alex, the head “droog”, undergoes aversion therapy to cure his “ultra-violence”. He’s strapped to a chair with his eyes clamped open. He’s then injected with drugs and forced to watch films depicting sex and violence while listening to Beethoven, his favourite composer. Later, while in the house of a previous victim of his violence, Alex hears Beethoven’s Ninth and the pain is so terrible he tries to kill himself.’

‘Who are you, Barry Norman?’ Poe said. ‘I said I’d seen A Clockwork—’

‘Our chair had straps too, Sergeant Poe,’ Cobb cut in quietly.