A Narrow Return (18 page)

Hillary nodded, then remembering the assignment she’d given Sam and Vivienne, said, ‘Have you remembered what sort of trouble he was in at school?’

Jenny bit her toast and chewed, frowning fiercely.

‘Huh?’

‘You said he and your mum were arguing about some trouble at school. This would be the summer time, just before she died.’

‘Oh that. I don’t know. Something about one of his teachers. He was being bullied, or something. I don’t know. She was going to sort it out for him, and Peter didn’t want her going anywhere near the school. Can’t blame him. You make a fuss, and you only get picked on more.’

‘Can you remember which teacher it was who had it in for him?’

‘Nah. His French teacher, I think. Or the geography teacher. Or maybe it wasn’t one of the teachers, but a gang of kids, and the teacher was trying to help him. Anyway, it was no big deal. Mum would have sorted it out.’ She suddenly stopped chewing as she suddenly realized that, actually, her mother had never had the opportunity to sort anything out.

She swallowed hard, and threw the rest of her breakfast into the bin.

‘Your sister is moving into a new flat,’ Hillary said quietly. ‘She seems to have come into some money recently. She talk to you about that?’

‘Nah,’ Jenny said. ‘It’ll be some man. Paying for it, I mean.’

Hillary nodded. ‘Do you think she learned that from your mother?’

‘What do you mean?’ Jenny said, bristling.

‘I mean, do you ever remember your mum having more money to spend sometimes? Did she have pretty jewellery that your father didn’t buy her, for instance?’

‘Oh that,’ Jenny said dismissively. ‘No, nothing like that. Lucy’s a tart. Mum wasn’t.’

When Hillary got back to HQ she filled in her morning’s work in the murder book and began to read it from start to finish. It was something she periodically did whenever she was stuck for something to do, and she was glad that she did.

Because the first thing Sam had done on coming in that morning, whilst she’d been talking to Steven Crayle about her secret admirer, was fill in his contributions to it as well.

And in light of her conversation with Jenny, there was one particular item in it that stood out as deserving more of her attention.

H
illary walked through to the communal office, but apart from Jimmy, it was empty. This wasn’t all that unusual, since both the younger members of their team had other commitments. It was something she was finding it hard to get used to.

‘Where’s everybody?’

‘Sam’s in a class at uni, and Vivienne’s working on something for Sergeant Handley.’

Hillary sighed. ‘I didn’t realize we had to share them with the computer nerds as well.’

‘We don’t normally, but they’re short staffed with some big fraud cause, and need more hands on keyboards.’

Hillary nodded philosophically, then smiled, a cat-contemplating-the-cream sort of smile. Jimmy found it fascinating. ‘So Handley owes us a favour then?’ she asked slyly.

Jimmy grinned, instantly catching on. The more he got to know his new boss, the better he liked her. ‘Planning on calling it in, guv?’

‘I might be. I’ve just been reading young Sam’s account of his visit to the McRae children’s school.’

Something in her voice made Jimmy glance at her sharply. ‘Found something?’

‘Maybe, maybe not. Something in it struck me as possibly relevant. Have you got Sam’s mobile number?’

‘Sure.’ He rattled it off as Hillary punched in the numbers on her own phone. It rang twice and was quickly picked up.

‘Yeah?’ the voice was Sam’s but pitched low, and she realized he was probably in a lecture. She squashed any feelings of guilt quickly.

‘Sorry Sam, it’s Hillary. Sorry to bother you like this, but I’ve just got one quick question, then I’ll leave you to it. This Phil Cleeves, the school teacher you spoke to yesterday. Would you say he was good looking?’

Watching her, Jimmy’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

There came a soft snort on the other end of the line. ‘Well, Viv thought so,’ Sam said grumpily.

‘Thanks Sam, that’s all I needed to know,’ Hillary said, and hung up promptly. She frowned thoughtfully then glanced at Jimmy. ‘Fancy going back to school, Jimmy?’ she asked softly.

‘I should bloody cocoa,’ the old man said. ‘Best days of your life, my arse.’

Hillary laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t let them keep you in after class.’

Phil Cleeves was in the staff room when they arrived, it being just going on for the end of the lunch hour. The room held only two others, who both looked up curiously as Phil quickly ushered them outside.

‘Sorry about that, but you wouldn’t believe the gossip mill in this place,’ Phil said, as he led them out into an open area opposite the school playing fields. ‘I’ve already had several queries from the head and the deputy head about the police visit on Friday. The last thing I need is for them to think my being questioned by the police is going to become a habit.’ A brisk wind was stirring, but the sun was out, and Hillary tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket as they started to casually stroll across the grounds.

Hillary studied the geography teacher briefly. She could understand why he’d be attractive to Vivienne, who was obviously going through an older man phase. Although in his fifties, Phil Cleeves still had a lean figure, and was lucky enough to possess the kind of facial features that aged well.

Jimmy, remaining silent, wondered what the guv had in mind.

‘My colleagues spoke to you before the weekend, I believe, about the Anne McRae murder case,’ Hillary began.

‘Yes. I assumed that was what this was about,’ Phil said, with a brief smile. ‘I can’t think what else about me would interest the police.’

The instant he’d said it, he wished he’d kept his big mouth shut. At least he managed to stop himself from letting the sickly smile that wanted to come to his face show itself.

Hillary nodded. That was twice now he’d indicated how unhappy he was to be the object of police attention. There was probably nothing in that, of course. Professional people often didn’t like to have attention drawn to them by the forces of law and order. Their reputations, perforce, had to mean a lot to them. But it still made her wonder if there wasn’t something about the man that protested a shade too much.

‘I’m sorry if it’s awkward for you, sir, calling on your place of work. If you’d like, I can have a word with your superiors – inform them that you’re simply giving us information that might be useful to us. If it wasn’t you, it could just as easily be another teacher who was around during the right period,’ Hillary said, somewhat less than truthfully.

Phil sighed. ‘No, don’t bother. They already know that – the head’s secretary told them what you needed. It’s just that, like I said, it’ll be all over the shop by the end of the day that you’ve been back. I’ll have hoards of 12-year-olds humming the theme tune to
The Bill
for weeks to come whenever I pass by.’

He laughed.

Jimmy and Hillary smiled obligingly.

‘I just wanted to clear up one or two things, that’s all,’ Hillary carried on smoothly. ‘You taught all three of the McRae children, at various times, or so I understand?’

Phil felt himself tense, then forced himself to nod casually.

‘That’s right.’

‘And you can’t recall any incident or trouble concerning Peter McRae?’

‘No. Like I said before, he was a pretty average student. His sister Jenny got into several scrapes, but they were all after her mother died. The whole thing obviously affected her pretty badly. Well, I mean, it would, wouldn’t it? It’s a bad age to lose your mother under any circumstances, but to something like that … well.’ He trailed off and shrugged helplessly.

Hillary nodded. ‘You see, sir, during our inquiries, we’ve come across some evidence that suggests that Peter was having some kind of trouble here,’ she indicated the buildings behind her, ‘and that his mother was in the process or sorting it out. Naturally, we’re interested in any kind of conflict surrounding a murder victim.’

Phil shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, but I really don’t recall anything about that – I told the other two as much. If there was trouble, it never came to my notice. Perhaps you should ask one of the admin staff to check the records of the meetings around that time?’ he asked, eager to appear co-operative. The last thing he needed was the cops sniffing around his personal life.

‘We already have, sir,’ Hillary said. ‘It’s a good suggestion, but unfortunately, they can only tell us that nothing was made official.’

She was picking up an odd vibe from the man strolling casually alongside them, and she glanced quickly behind her at Jimmy, who caught her gaze and gave a quick nod.

So he was picking up on it too.

Perhaps it was the way in which Phil Cleeves was striving to be so helpful. Perhaps it was the very casual way he was behaving. But she would have been willing to bet anything that behind his calm exterior, the man was sweating buckets.

‘But if Anne McRae had come here to, say, talk to a teacher about it, it might not have made the minutes of any particular meeting. If it was off the record, so to speak,’ Hillary carried on. ‘So you can see our problem.’

‘Oh yes. But like I said, I can’t help. Perhaps if you tracked down some of the other teachers who were around then, they could shed some more light on it?’

Hillary nodded. ‘We might have to do that, sir,’ she said. But she doubted she’d bother. Because whatever it was that was worrying Phil Cleeves, the thought that they might talk to his contemporaries didn’t phase him one bit. Which meant that whatever it was he was trying to hide, none of his fellow workers at the time knew of it.

Of course, he might be trying to hint that if there had been trouble, Anne McRae hadn’t been on to him about it, but she might have taken it to one of the others. But if that was the case, why not come right out and say so? He was obviously anxious to get rid of them, and casting suspicion elsewhere was a tried and true tactic.

But, in reality, had Anne McRae only talked to him?

‘Did you meet Anne McRae, sir?’ she asked smoothly.

Phil shrugged. ‘Like I told the other two who came, I might have done, but I honestly don’t remember it if I did.’

Hillary nodded. ‘You’d have been, what, in your early thirties when Mrs McRae was murdered?’

Phil looked momentarily startled. ‘What? Yes, I must have been. Hell, where does time go?’

‘I know, sir. It flies, doesn’t it. Mrs McRae was a very beautiful woman, sir. Even from just the photographs I have of her in her dossier, I could tell she must have had men eating out of her hand,’ Hillary continued casually. ‘Blonde, green-eyed, and from what I’ve been able to learn of her character from talking to those who knew her, she was confident and friendly.’

Behind her, Jimmy picked up his ears. So that was it. The guv’nor had Cleeves picked out as another potential lover of the murder victim.

‘She sounds memorable,’ Phil Cleeves agreed with a slight smile. ‘But it was twenty years ago now, and there have been literally hundreds of PTA meetings since I started my career. Like I said, if I met the lady, I certainly don’t remember it.’

If the teacher had any inkling what Hillary was hinting at, he’d chosen to pretend he hadn’t.

‘So you never became friendly with her?’

‘No! I just said.’

‘And you never visited her home?’

‘What? No, never.’ Phil looked at Hillary as if she was starting to lose her marbles.

‘The original investigation found some evidence of DNA at the crime scene that hasn’t been accounted for, as yet,’ Hillary said smoothly. ‘We’re currently trying to eliminate as many people from our inquiries as possible. Would you be willing to give a DNA sample, Mr Cleeves?’

Phil Cleeves felt the relief sweep through him. So that was all they were after!

‘Of course I don’t mind,’ he said with a genuine smile. ‘Do you want blood or something else? I’m not really good with needles, but if it’ll help—’

‘Oh no, sir, a simple cotton wool swab inside the cheek will do it. Jimmy, you were going to take some more samples later on, weren’t you? Do you have the kit in the car ready?’

‘Yes, guv,’ Jimmy said. He had indeed arranged to go and take some samples from the Burgess couple later on that evening. ‘You want me to get it?’

‘If Mr Cleeves has no objection to doing it right here and now?’ She let her voice rise in query, and glanced at the man beside her.

Phil Cleeves clearly didn’t have any objections.

Ten minutes later, and with the geography teacher’s DNA neatly packaged and labelled in a little plastic tube resting in a kit in the boot, the two of them made their way back to HQ.

‘So you think he and the vic were lovers, guv?’ Jimmy asked, pulling up at a set of red traffic lights.

Hillary grunted. ‘I did when we started off. A good-looking teacher would have been right up Anne’s street, I reckon. And when Sam confirmed that he was good-looking, I thought we might be on to a winner. Now I’m not at all sure.’

Jimmy sighed, watched an old lady cross the road in front of them, and put the car back into first and set off again. ‘He was certainly antsy about something, guv,’ he said stubbornly.

‘Oh yes. He was like a cat on hot bricks all right,’ Hillary agreed. ‘But did you notice the way he practically slumped with relief when we asked him for a DNA sample?’

‘Yeah. Odd that, it’s usually the other way around,’ Jimmy acknowledged, feeling a little deflated. ‘They start to get tense when you ask them about providing a sample, not the other way around.’

‘Hmm. Which tells us what?’

‘That he’s got nothing to fear from any DNA we found on the vic’s body.’

‘And he flat out denied being in the house,’ Hillary said. ‘And you know what? About that, I tend to believe him. But something else had him worried. I could practically smell it on him.’

Jimmy nodded. ‘You think he’s got form?’

‘Possibly. But he’s a teacher, and surely they’re vetted pretty thoroughly nowadays. Even so.’

‘Want me to spent a couple of hours doing a background check on him, guv? I’m not meeting the Burgesses for a while yet, not until after the hubby’s finished his rounds. I can dig around, see if I catch a whiff of anything interesting.’

Hillary nodded. ‘Yeah. Good idea. Something tells me we’re not finished with Mr Cleeves just yet.’

Tom Warrington was on the late shift, and up in his bedroom in his parent’s neat little semi, he lay out his uniform on the bed. He’d just had a shower and a shave, and was dabbing on some expensive cologne, a Christmas present from some doddering old aunt.

He liked to look good, though. It was important to be considerate to your lover. He owed it to Hillary to be smart and presentable. After all, he didn’t want the others to snigger at her behind her back because he had BO or something hideous like that.

He cupped his hands over his mouth and breathed hard. Hmm, no smell, but he’d brush his teeth anyway. He did this straight away, and then, once dressed, hesitated and glanced at his wardrobe. He looked down at his watch, and nodded. His father wouldn’t be in from work for hours yet and his mother had gone shopping.

It was safe enough.

He reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a large, steel padlocked box. He undid the combination from memory – the numbers to it weren’t written down anywhere – and then he sat back down on the bed, his heart pounding in anticipation.

His souvenirs. He did so love to gloat over them.

He hefted the box onto his lap and opened it up. Inside, were three folders. They weren’t quite the official missing persons reports, only bits and pieces of them that he’d managed to Xerox on the sly, but even so, they were like gold dust to him.

He reached for a silky green scarf, the kind with long tasselled ends, and ran it through his fingers. Judy’s. Silly little Judy’s. If only she’d had a few more brains, things might have worked out very differently.

He sighed, put the scarf to one side, and reached in further. He brought out a pen. A pretty black and gold affair, with the personalized initials on it.

M.J.V.

Ah, Meg Varney. Now Meg’s problems hadn’t been lack of brains, so much as lack of taste. Fancy turning him down, after all that he’d tried to do for her!