Jenny.’
‘It isn’t as simple as that, sir,’ said Fry. ‘No?’
‘There are certain aspects to the burglary which interest us, that’s all. Am I right in thinking you were away at the time?’
‘Yes, in Cyprus,’ said Weston. ‘We go there when we can during the school holidays.’
‘And how long were you away on this occasion?’ ‘A month. I had to be back to prepare for the new term then. There’s a lot of work to do before we start, you know. People don’t realize that.’
‘So you weren’t using the cottage in Ashford at the time of the burglary.’
‘No. We’d asked one of the neighbours to call in occasionally to check on things: water the plants, that sort of thing. They deliver free papers and all sorts of junk mail and just leave it sticking out of the letter box, you know. It’s a complete giveaway that the place is unoccupied.’
Fry studied the log basket in the hearth. She felt the
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Westons staring at her, trying to divine the direction of her questions.
‘And who reported the burglary?’
‘The people next door. They heard glass breaking. Later, they noticed the window was broken. That’s how he got in.’
‘Yes, I see.’
‘He made a terrible mess of the cottage, you know. He took a video recorder, a bit of cash and some jewellery, that’s all. But it was the damage that was the worst thing. He broke chairs, he smashed pictures, threw Tabasco sauce on the walls and the carpet. Susan wouldn’t use the cottage again until we had it redecorated and changed all the locks.’
‘There were no fingerprints,’ said Fry.
‘He must have worn gloves. Even young children know to do that these days, don’t they? But he was identified by someone who saw him near the cottage. And they said there were some fibres on his jacket from one of our armchairs. The evidence seemed conclusive.’
‘I’m afraid we have to take another look at the question of motive. The Sugden family has reason to feel very bitter towards you.’
‘Ah,’ said Weston. ‘You know about my bit of trouble. But it’s not as if it will be in the police records, is it? My name was cleared completely. Still, some people find it difficult to forget.’
‘Tell me what happened.’
Mr Weston shrugged apologetically. ‘There was an accident, that’s all. A boy was badly injured.’
‘This was on a field trip?’
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‘Yes. We had taken a party to Losehill Hall. You know the National Park study centre near Castleton?’
Fry didn’t know it, but she nodded, unwilling to admit the gaps in her local knowledge.
‘There was a bit of a fuss about it at the time. Some hysterical reactions. There was a full enquiry by the education department. The police were involved for a while, but of course there were never any charges.’
‘I see. You were in charge of the party?’
‘Yes, indeed. But there was found to be no negligence on my part. It was an accident, pure and simple. Nobody could have predicted it. The boy slipped away from the party. I had warned them all personally about the danger, and we had the right number of adults supervising the group. All the children had been told to stay on the path. But some of them don’t listen to what you tell them. Some of them have never been taught proper discipline.’
‘That’s down to the parents, I suppose.’
Weston smiled faintly. ‘Try telling that to Gavin Ferrigan’s family. They were most abusive. Aggressive even. We had some very unpleasant scenes, I can tell you. I was forced to take legal advice to protect my position. I couldn’t have my integrity being called into doubt in that way; it was undermining my authority as deputy head.’ ‘You say the boy was badly hurt?’
‘He suffered serious head injuries. I did my best. I pulled him out of the water, tried to keep him warm until the air ambulance arrived. But he’d hit his head on some rocks in the stream. Five days later, they decided to turn off his life-support machine.’
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‘But it blew over in the end, as far as you were concerned?’
‘Eventually. There was a lot of talk - ridiculous, unfounded allegations. It was very embarrassing for a while. It made me feel ashamed, although I knew I had done nothing wrong. Everyone made me feel it was my fault. Everyone.’
‘And Gavin Ferrigan’s mother is Wayne Sugden’s sister.’
‘Apparently. The father, Ferrigan, was already in prison then for drug dealing. But the rest of the family turned up in force for the inquest. It was most unpleasant.’ Weston shuddered at the memory. ‘I kept being forced to justify myself. But I had nothing to apologize for, did I? I did everything right. I did my best for him.’
A few minutes later, Eric Weston followed Fry into the hallway to show her out. He hesitated at the foot of the stairs near the heavy oak door, looking back over his shoulder where his wife could be heard piling crockery in the kitchen.
‘The accident to Gavin Ferrigan…’ he said. ‘You have to understand it was a very difficult experience for me.’
‘Yes, I’m sure it was.’
‘It’s just that … some people never forget. Some people like to make you go on feeling ashamed for ever.’
The clattering in the kitchen had stopped, and Mr Weston suddenly seemed to notice the silence.
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‘Well, goodbye, then,’ he said. ‘Sorry we couldn’t help any more. Anything
