Death in Dulwich Page 6

  She brushed her fringe resolutely to one side. It sprang back, masking those clever grey eyes. She smiled faintly. There was only one thing to be done.

  Chapter Four

  The mighty gates of Wyatt’s were technically closed again today – but just to pupils, surely? The Headmaster and the Bursar were bound to be on site, and so Beth could be there, too. Ostensibly she would be offering her support and getting on with her job. But, while going through the motions of being a helpful new broom, she could try and find out whether Seasons had been anywhere near the back playground at the right time on Monday. She could also establish exactly why the headmaster and the school secretary had been milling around just before she’d found the body. And if she didn’t manage to get any further with her own investigations, she could mention the whole thing to Inspector York, in the hope that he could take it further.

  With all the might at his disposal – loads of constables, plenty of vehicles with flashing lights, SOCO folk with white suits, and so on – he’d be able to get at the truth.

  The trouble was that the thought of going back to the little archive office – so close to those bins – was horrible, to say the least. She’d just have to hope that she’d be stopped by that nice police constable before she got that far. Then she could just hang out in the main reception area, with other people safely around, and see what she could glean. All right, it was a little sketchy around the edges, but it was definitely a plan. Sort of. She was nearly home from Ben’s school already, but she turned round sharply and marched all the way to the gates of Wyatt’s before too many shards of doubt could creep in.

  There was a constable on duty at the gates, but Beth saw with a flash of pleased recognition that it was the one who’d questioned her the day before. She smiled and he opened the gate for her.

  ‘Expecting you, are they, miss?’ he asked. She opened her mouth to tell a whopping lie, then luckily his radio crackled into life and she got away with just a smile.

  The grass in front of the school was as smooth and green as a billiard table, and yesterday’s battery of emergency vehicles had been resolved into a single police car. The Headmaster’s sleek silver Volvo was in its usual reserved spot, right by the door. It was the perfect choice for Dr Grover. Outwardly discreet and reliable, it was also eye-wateringly expensive and luxurious – like his ties – and it cunningly referenced those wonderful Scandiwegian detective drama series that Dulwich parents tended to get addicted to. All too appropriate at the moment.

  Acutely conscious that her constable friend might well be watching, Beth plunged forward through the main front door to Reception and its reassuring hub, Janice.

  Any building which usually accommodates hordes of bodies seems to teem with silence when empty. The Wyatt’s entrance hall, always imposing, positively dwarfed Beth today. The place echoed at every step. An abandoned school bag was lying in the corridor, spilling books. She stooped to pick it up, stuff the books back in. Suddenly, a bell shrilled out of nowhere and made her jump a mile. It was just the pre-programmed signal for the end of a period, she realised, when her thudding heartbeat returned to normal. Did someone want the reassurance of routine, even in these most un-routine times?

  As the bell died away, Beth heard raised voices. Rounding the corner into Reception, she saw Janice and Dr Grover, both red-faced and angry. The Reception desk between them seemed to be the only thing stopping them from coming to blows. They both turned to her, and she felt their fury redirect itself at her.

  ‘Sorry, I just found this bag in the hallway, thought I’d bring it in… Its owner will miss it when school gets restarted…’

  Both of them looked sceptical, and she could hardly blame them. It was beyond the bounds of credibility that she’d take it upon herself to come in from home just to act as an impromptu lost property monitor. She bumped up her excuse. ‘And I wanted to see what I could do to help today. I am part of the staff now, after all. This must be such a difficult, awful time…’

  ‘That’s very thoughtful, but the school is closed today. The best thing you can do is go home, let the police do their job and sort this thing out as soon as possible,’ said Dr Grover, switching effortlessly from beetroot crossness to his usual ebullient charm.

  ‘Well, actually,’ said Janice, looking at Grover through narrowed eyes, ‘I could really do with some help. The phones are ringing off their hooks and no-one else has thought to offer any sort of back-up.’ On cue, her mobile started to trill and Beth heard another, more distant ringing start up in the back office.

  ‘That’s no problem at all, happy to help,’ said Beth. ‘As long as it’s fine with Dr Grover,’ she said quickly, remembering who was employing whom.

  Dr Grover gave her a brief smile and then flicked a look at Janice, who was suddenly ostentatiously busy with her phone. ‘Of course, of course. I must be getting on,’ he said, turning on his heel. If he’d been a less imposing figure, Beth would have said he flounced out. She raised her eyebrows at Janice.

  ‘We’re all a bit emotional, I’m afraid,’ Janice said. ‘It’s been a very difficult couple of days. It’s an absolute tragedy for the school. And for Dr Jenkins’ family, of course,’ she added.

  ‘It must have been really tough on you,’ said Beth. Secretly, she thought it had been a whole lot tougher on the archivist, his family, and even herself as the official corpse finder, but she wanted to get into Janice’s good books. Janice was the font of all wisdom – and unless Beth was way off course, there was something up between her and the headmaster. She’d just interrupted a massive tiff. It seemed a lot more passionate than any falling out over supplies of paperclips or forgotten memos ought to be, even under the current stressful conditions.

  Could it have been an assignation that had brought them both to that out-of-the-way spot behind the sixth form block yesterday at around noon? She could see a large diamond-studded wedding band on Janice’s finger, and Dr Grover was famously married to a willowy actress – the only factor that kept most of Dulwich’s divorcees at bay. But when had being married ever stopped people? True, if it ever got out, there would be a fuss; not least from the disappointed divorcees. This was a potential scandal, but was it a motive? Beth thought probably not. Wyatt’s wasn’t a church school, after all.

  Nevertheless, Beth smiled sympathetically at Janice, hoping she’d want to unburden herself. For a second, she thought it might work. Janice gave her a tremulous glance. Then her phone bleeped imperiously. The eye contact was broken. Janice prodded at a few keys.

  ‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘It’s that same mother again, texting this time. She’s left three messages already. She’s beside herself; I must get back to her.’ She sounded a little choked, and Beth had an ignominious hope that she’d still crack, sob the whole story out on her shoulder, then ring the mother back later. But Janice was made of sterner stuff. She swallowed, then pinned her professional smile back firmly in place. ‘If you wouldn’t mind answering the phones in the office, I’ll just ring this lady right back. We’re just saying, there’s no danger to the pupils, the police are near to sorting everything out, and the school will be reopened as soon as possible.’

  ‘Really? Are the police close to finding whoever… did it?’

  Janice sighed. ‘Seriously? I have no idea. They’re not telling us… me… anything. We don’t even know yet officially that it was murder. As you can imagine, the parents are going nuts. But we’re Wyatt’s. It’s under control; it’s going to be fine. No, it actually IS fine. Everything Is Fine. That’s your mantra.’

  Beth smiled, then took herself off to the small back office. She picked up the nearest phone while settling herself in a chair. ‘Good morning, Wyatt’s?’ she answered calmly.

  Over an hour later, after talking in reassuring tones to what seemed like the full one thousand anxious mothers, Beth got her reward. Tom Seasons, the Bursar, strolled into reception. She remembered him from her interview. Though only of middling height, his burly former rugby play
er’s physique had felt intimidating as they’d sat politely round the small table discussing record-keeping. He was still exuding that same impression of scarcely contained force now. Resting a meaty forearm on Janice’s shiny countertop, he leant forward to chat. His shirt and tie were rumpled, as though he’d prefer to be in a rugby jersey, getting stuck into a scrum. Though Beth could see him clearly from her vantage point, peering over the top of a state-of-the-art wide screen Mac, Seasons didn’t seem aware of her presence at all.

  ‘Busy morning, Jan?’ he asked, his slightly battered good looks crumpled into a worried smile, his fingers tapping the walnut surface restlessly.

  ‘You can say that again,’ she sighed. ‘What’s the situation for you?’

  ‘It’s highly concerning,’ he said, ramping up the tapping.

  Beth, behind her computer, winced involuntarily. She hated it when perfectly good words were distorted for no good reason. But she mustn’t become irrationally prejudiced against the Bursar, just because he tortured the English language. Meanwhile, he carried on self-importantly.

  ‘We need to get this wrapped up as soon as possible, get open, back on a level playing field. It’s not good for the school, or for any of us. You won’t believe this,’ he said, suddenly bending even closer to Janice.

  ‘What?’ She was agog and so, behind her Mac, was Beth, now straining to hear.

  ‘I’ve had two parents this morning pulling their children out.’ Beth relaxed. While undoubtedly serious for Wyatt’s, this was not the kind of revelation she was interested in. Janice, however, was outraged.

  ‘No! That’s ridiculous! That’s such an overreaction. Why would they even do that?’

  ‘Well, nerves. Their precious children, the possibility that a homicidal madman is prowling the playground…’

  ‘But that’s crazy, it isn’t like that at all…’

  ‘I know that. You know that. But the parents don’t know Jenkins was a grade one cunt who was begging to get stabbed, do they?’ said Seasons viciously.

  Beth, who’d been holding her breath, dropped her pen with a clatter. Janice simultaneously breathed out a warning, ‘Tom!’ Seasons immediately looked over Janice’s shoulder for the first time. Beth obligingly poked her head out from behind the Mac. Her cover was blown.

  ‘Oh, it’s… er, Beth, isn’t it?’ he said blandly, darting a furious look back at Janice. ‘What are you doing in today?’

  Beth smiled, and was about to answer, but just then the phone rang again. ‘Wyatt’s, how can I help you?’ she said smoothly. Just as she’d hoped, Seasons’ attention was diverted back to Janice.

  ‘Does she know anything?’ he said softly.

  Beth, unpardonably inattentive to the worried parent on the end of the line, strained for Janice’s response, but couldn’t hear a word. Seasons ambled off, ostentatiously raising a hand to her in farewell. She ducked her head down automatically, too late, and then wished she’d insouciantly waved back. Now he knew she’d been watching him. Oh well. She turned her attention back to the mother on the line, and did the best she could to reassure her that her son was in absolutely no danger – though she wasn’t that sure she believed it herself.

  It wasn’t until lunchtime, umpteen calls later, that Janice took pity on Beth. ‘Look, let’s get away from the phones for a while and get something to eat. You’re looking shattered – and I definitely need a break,’ she said. She switched the answering machines on and they left Reception, Janice locking the door behind her. ‘Everyone’s got pass keys, but you can’t be too careful at the moment,’ she said.

  ‘Are you scared?’ Beth said, as they entered the staff canteen. It was eerily deserted, as she might have expected, but there were covered trays of sandwiches left out for the skeleton staff working today, along with a thermos each of coffee and tea and jugs of orange juice, with bottles of water in the chiller. There was a basket of fruit and some packets of crisps and snacks laid out on the central table. You could never accuse Wyatt’s of being unprepared. It was as though elves had left them a little feast, and then vanished, thought Beth.

  Janice shrugged a little listlessly, and they browsed for a while, making their selections. Beth hoped Janice wasn’t going to be professionally tight-lipped. At last, here she was, tete-a-tete with the person who knew more about the school than anybody else. It was the perfect opportunity to get somewhere at last. Plus, frankly, Beth genuinely did find it frightening, rattling around in this huge place, just the two of them. The Head, the Bursar, and a bunch of police must be tucked away somewhere, but they were not making their presence felt. She looked expectantly at Janice.

  ‘Well…’ said the other woman reluctantly. ‘Yes, it does all feel very odd. Alan’s been… well… murdered. Probably. Right here. I’d known him for years. And no-one’s been arrested… yet. It’s surreal.’ Janice shook her head a little.

  ‘Who do you think it was?’ said Beth, in little more than a whisper. It was absurd, but she looked around her even though she knew there was no-one else there. But the shutters were coming down on Janice’s normally friendly face.

  ‘We don’t know yet whether it was even murder, maybe it was a heart attack, some sort of accident—’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Beth broke in. ‘I saw the body, remember? That was no accident, unless he fell face-forward onto a knife, then rolled onto his back and covered up his own face himself before dying.’

  Janice looked at Beth in fascinated horror. ‘Is that…?’

  ‘Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said anything,’ said Beth, contrite. She really hadn’t meant to come out with all of that. It was just that she’d spent the morning trying to airbrush the situation for the sake of the parents. She couldn’t stand there pretending to Janice as well. There had to be some honesty about what had happened, didn’t there?

  But she was conscious that Inspector York had told her to keep the circumstances of the death to herself, and she hadn’t wanted to shock poor Janice either; the school secretary had known Jenkins for years, and might have been fond of him. You never knew. She did hope that her indiscretion, now that it was out there, might tempt Janice into some reciprocal confidences. She let the silence lengthen, allowing Janice to make up her own mind about what she would and wouldn’t say. It was an old journalistic trick. Some people found silence so uncomfortable that they would rush to fill it – saying more than they had bargained for.

  ‘The thing is,’ said Janice, after a brief struggle with herself. ‘Alan wasn’t a particularly popular member of staff. Well, not with any of his women colleagues,’ she added, giving Beth a meaningful look.

  So much for being fond of the man, thought Beth. ‘You mean the, er, leering thing?’ she suggested tentatively.

  ‘So, he had started that with you.’ It wasn’t a question. Janice didn’t seem at all surprised.

  ‘Well, he didn’t do it so much in the interview, or I wasn’t that conscious of it then. It was only when I saw him yesterday… Even then, we were only together for a few minutes really, but let’s just say that I was completely aware of it that time.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Janice heavily. ‘It was such a pain. Well, some people found it more than a pain. Luckily, he was stuck out in that shed most of the time… sorry, I mean the archives office.’ She smiled. ‘So, he didn’t get much chance to annoy people. But, of course, he was around at lunch time and so on… It was mainly the younger girls who just couldn’t stand it; women his own age maybe gave him the benefit of the doubt. Times have changed. And I tend to hear all the moans. Everyone complains about everything to me.’ Janice was now unmistakeably glum.

  ‘Well, no-one will be whingeing about him any more, that’s for sure,’ said Beth. ‘You don’t think any of the people he’d hit on would actually stab him, though, do you?’

  ‘I’d seriously doubt it,’ said Janice. ‘No. People just used to avoid him. It’s not like anyone had to be stuck with him, when they could just walk away. Honestly, he could clear a room in s
econds flat.’

  ‘Of course, I would have been stuck with him… in the shed,’ mused Beth. It was another awful thought. Not only was she the one to have found the body, not only was she alibi-free, but now she actually had a pretty strong motive – one that every woman working at Wyatt’s would be able to point out to the police. ‘I’m basically going to be the number one suspect.’

  Janice looked sympathetically at Beth. ‘Come on. You’d only just arrived; you didn’t have time to hate him yet. It’s probably something entirely different, if it really was murder anyway.’ Janice seemed to be trying her best to slip back into the undoubted comforts of denial, before remembering she’d just been told in no uncertain terms that it definitely was a suspicious death. She wasn’t spinning the situation for the parents now. She met Beth’s eyes.

  ‘All right, it was murder. But maybe it was… oh, I don’t know, some random mad person who’d got into the premises? Though that wouldn’t be good for the school either. I mean, we don’t want anyone to think that we could have one of those awful US-style massacres here. Maybe it was someone from his past before he joined the staff.’ Poor Janice was scurrying around for an explanation that didn’t involve Wyatt’s. But, given that he was a Wyatt’s employee who’d been murdered on Wyatt’s premises during a Wyatt’s school day, she was having trouble.

  ‘Did any of the men dislike him? They’d be more likely to be violent, wouldn’t they?’ Beth was trying to inch Janice round to a discussion of the Bursar, who, judging from the word he’d used to describe Jenkins, was not a fan. But the other woman instinctively recoiled from anything that might reflect badly on Wyatt’s, determinedly reinterpreting Beth’s suggestion.