‘Not yet. Until the police are able to assess the situation, we need to limit the amount of information we give out.’ He held his hand up as two or three students seemed about to protest. ‘There’s no point in panicking people unnecessarily. And I’m acting on the advice of the police at this time.’
There was still some muted mumbling, but the students and staff seemed ready to co-operate.
‘What about your son?’ Styles asked. ‘Isn’t he in Donna’s form group? Is he still in the humanities block?’
He could tell from Styles’s slightly sardonic expression that he was expecting an answer in the negative. Cam hadn’t always been able to count on Styles’s full support and the man seemed to relish any opportunity to challenge Cam’s authority. He’d once overheard Styles tell another member of staff that Cam was only running the school for his own ends, for the kudos and of course the money. Cam wasn’t sure why he’d expect that Tom had been treated differently from anybody else in Donna Frith’s classroom just because he was the head’s son.
‘Tom’s still in there,’ Cam confirmed.
Styles’s belligerent expression changed to one of concern. ‘Have you heard from the men who’re holding him and the others? Do you know what they want?’
Cam shook his head and sighed. ‘At the moment we’ve no idea. All we can do is wait. That’s why I’m here. I need to help the police as much as possible and I’m going to need your assistance. If any of you can tell us anything at all about your experience this morning, anything that might help to identify these men or to help the police work out what they might want then please let me know.’
Blank looks all round.
‘Okay,’ he said, turning to Brooks. ‘I really don’t think this will help you. I can get a list of names so you can interview the students and staff individually when your backup arrives.’
‘What about their weapons?’ Brooks asked as if he hadn’t heard what Cam had said. ‘Can anybody tell me anything about the guns?’
A boy at the back raised a hand. ‘They looked like semi-automatic rifles. My brother’s into that kind of thing. Not that he owns one,’ he added quickly. ‘He just knows about guns. He’s in the army.’
Brooks nodded. ‘If we went online do you think you could show me what the guns looked like?’
The boy nodded slowly. ‘Maybe. I only got a quick look.’
‘What about what the men were wearing?’
‘Black,’ Styles said. ‘All black. Their clothes looked military, or maybe like armed police. They were wearing ski masks. One was taller than me; the other one was shorter.’
Brooks nodded approvingly and Cam was surprised by how much information the police officer had been able to get out of the shocked group. Another of the boys raised a hand. Cam squinted against the sudden burst of sunlight through the back windows. The student looked like Byron James, another of Tom’s friends and another one who seemed to favour the goth look. ‘Sir, I think one of them had a handgun as well. I can’t be certain but I’m fairly sure he had a leg holster. He was one of the two who let us go.’
It wasn’t much, but Brooks nodded his appreciation. ‘That’s great. Well done. Anybody else?’
The students and staff suddenly seemed to be looking anywhere but at Cam and Brooks as though they were all embarrassed by their shared lack of information. Despite his frustration, Cam understood. They’d all been rounded up at gunpoint and terrified. They probably hadn’t a clue what to expect and the sheer relief of being released would have probably caused them all to forget anything other than that feeling of relief at their liberation.
‘Sir?’ Byron Thomas had raised his hand again. ‘There was one other thing I noticed.’
‘Go on,’ Brooks said.
‘There were two men keeping us together and letting us go in groups. One of them was really, like, professional about it. It was like he just wanted to get the job done. But the other one was different.’
‘In what way?’
‘He was weird. I could see that he was sweating and his eyes were all over the place. He couldn’t look at any of us and he didn’t speak at all, just a few nods of his head. I’ve thought about it and I wondered if he was on something. Y’know. Drugs. But then I saw the teachers and students had the same look in their eyes. Sir, I think one of the armed men over there is terrified of the others.’
12
There was just enough light trickling in from around the door to allow Annie to scan the shelves of the store cupboard, looking for something, anything, that might help her to escape. She briefly flirted with the idea of fashioning some sort of weapon out of one of the metre-long rulers but found herself almost giggling at her own stupidity. What good would a length of wood be against a gun?
Her breathing was starting to slow down and with it her heart rate, but she could still feel the dull throb of her pulse high up in her throat. She reached up and checked the catch. It was still in a vertical position. Did that mean it was locked? She couldn’t remember. What if she only thought she’d locked it and one of the men was able to pull it open and drag her out?
No. She remembered clearly the click as the catch had engaged. Didn’t she? She couldn’t check because she’d have to turn the handle and that would be visible from outside, so anybody standing in the classroom would know immediately where she was hiding. She needed a plan. Her thoughts kept being drawn back to the window and the trick with the hinges but there were two problems with using that as an escape route. Firstly, she needed to find a pair of compasses, or something similar, although, she knew, a geography room
