He pushed open the main doors and walked in.
Three or four young boys were gathered around the noticeboard to the left, checking the names of the school under-15 football team. They seemed oblivious to his
presence as he passed them, their attention riveted to the team-sheet.
Reed passed through another set of double doors and was about to turn right into the staff room when a familiar figure appeared ahead of him.
Noel Hardy looked at Reed, his face expressionless. ‘Could I have a word with you in my office, please?’ he said, stepping back, ushering Reed in.
Reed followed, accepting the chair which Hardy offered once they were both inside.
The Headmaster’s office was slightly larger than his own, perhaps to reflect the older man’s authority.
It had a profusion of houseplants, all of which looked remarkably healthy -
due, Reed was sure, to the high temperature inside the office. It was always warm in the room. Even in summer Hardy kept the radiators on, Reed had noticed. The older man either didn’t mind the heat or didn’t feel it. Despite the fact that the morning air was a little crisp, the office was uncomfortably warm. The air smelled stale.
Beside each plant pot was a small bottle of Baby-Bio. On one windowsill he noticed a pair of secateurs. There was also a small fish tank to the left of the Headmaster’s desk: a variety of tropical fish swam back and forth.
Watching them was supposed to relieve stress, Reed recalled. He wondered if he should get one for himself.
‘I wanted a quick word,’ Hardy said, officiously.
‘Fire away.’
‘This isn’t easy for me.’
Reed frowned.
‘The incident with the police yesterday’ the Headmaster continued. ‘I saw it.
I’m sure a number of
other people did too. I’d like to know what it was about.’
‘It’s private.’
‘Not if it happened on school property it isn’t. I want to know what happened.’
‘There was a misunderstanding. I went to the police station to help clear it up.’
Hardy stood by one of his houseplants and rubbed a leaf between his thumb and index finer.
‘It’s bad for the school,’ he said. ‘Teachers involved with the police. God knows there’s been enough trouble at St Michael’s lately. Brought about, I might add, by you.’
‘If you’re referring to the children, then-‘
Hardy cut him short. ‘It’s been all over the newspapers,’ he snapped. ‘What do you imagine people will think of the school?’
‘And what would you have done? Let those kids suffer? The police had to be called in.’
‘The damage done to the reputation of this school could be irreparable and it’s because of you.’
‘To hell with the school’s reputation. What about those kids?’
‘First you bring the police here and then you yourself become involved with them. God alone knows why. What have you done?’
‘I haven’t done anything.’
‘That’s not what I heard.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You were taken to Theobald’s Road Police Station yesterday, questioned about assault charges against your own daughter.’
‘How do you know that?’ Reed demanded.
‘I know. That’s all that matters.’
‘Who told you?’
‘So you don’t deny it?’
‘I don’t deny I was questioned. But, as I told you, there’d been a
misunderstanding.’
‘It sounds like more than a misunderstanding. But then you always did have a talent for understatement, didn’t you?’
‘I want to know how you know.’
‘I’m asking the questions here, Reed,’ Hardy said, defiantly.
‘Was it my wife?’
‘I have no choice but to suspend you indefinitely, effective immediately. I’d appreciate it if you left now.’
‘This is what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ the Headmaster said, dismissively.
‘You never wanted to help those kids, did you? You were always more concerned about the reputation of your bloody school,’ Reed snarled.
‘Leave now, please.’
‘Or what? Are you going to call the police?’
‘If necessary.’
The two men locked stares, then Reed got to his feet and headed for the door.
‘You’ll be notified if any further disciplinary action is to be taken against you’ Hardy told him.
‘Fuck you. And your school.’
‘Now you know how the parents of those children felt. The ones you accused.
Not pleasant, is it?’
Reed had no answer.
Seventy-six
Detective Inspector James Talbot dropped the file onto his desk and sat back in his seat, eyes closed.
For a long time he remained like that, watched by DS Rafferty and Phillip Barclay.
The coroner had a file of his own perched on his knee and he flicked distractedly through it while waiting for some kind of response from Talbot.
Rafferty lit up a cigarette, blowing out a stream of smoke, watching it dissipate in the air.
‘It’s not much to go on is it?’ Talbot said finally, eyes snapping open. He looked at each of his companions in turn. ‘We know someone was in that warehouse: that much is obvious, but who and why?’ He shrugged, allowing the sentence to trail off. ‘What have you got, Phil?’
‘A rather mixed bag, you could say,’ Barclay answered, smiling.
The smile faded rapidly when he saw the expression on Talbot’s face. ‘A few prints, mostly footprints,’ he continued quickly. ‘Corroboration of what you already know. Someone has been inside that warehouse.’
‘How recently?’ Talbot asked.
‘A week, ten days, certainly not more recently,’ the coroner replied.
‘What about the blood?’ Rafferty enquired.
‘I’m coming to that’ Barclay told him. ‘We found traces of blood and semen.’
‘And?’ Talbot persisted.
‘The semen wasn’t much help,’ Barclay said. ‘It’s only possible to divide it into three systems anyway. Secretor and non-secretor, ABO and a PGM sub-group.
Not very specific compared to the serology.’
Talbot sighed.
‘Do you want to give me that in English, Phil?’ he said, wearily.
‘You can ascertain blood groups from semen samples, right, just as you can from sweat or urine, but it’s obviously not as accurate as a blood sample itself for DNA profiling, unless you’re talking about something like a rape.
The semen samples found in that warehouse were almost useless.’
‘Why?’ Rafferty wanted to know.
