Chapter Twelve

THE STIFF SCHOOL secretary escorted Verity and Giash to the headteacher’s office and asked them to wait. She offered tea in such an abrupt way they felt obliged to decline.

Richard Lennard entered the room a good quarter of an hour later. He pointed his nose at the ceiling and walked in rather an affected way, without looking at the ground. Verity put him down as vain immediately. She didn’t like vain men.

“PC Tandy?” he said, stretching out his hand. “Thank you for helping with this business. I’m sure it’s all a fuss about nothing, but obviously we can’t be too careful.” He ignored Giash.

Verity blinked, half flustered and half annoyed. She regretted that she hadn’t stood up when he’d entered the room. Having him towering over her made her feel at a disadvantage; and she resented the slight to her partner.

“Good morning, Mr Lennard. This is PC Chakrabati. I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Surely there can be few things more serious than having a prowler lurking near a girls’ school?”

Richard Lennard directed a perfunctory nod at Giash and let out a forced bark of a laugh.

“I’d agree with you, if there is such a person. The parent who reported seeing him, Mrs Painter, is quite a fanciful lady, as is her daughter. And, as you know, when girls get together they’re likely to become somewhat hysterical. To be quite frank, I think that between them they’ve imagined the whole thing. Quite unintentionally, of course.”

“I see,” said Verity. “We’d like to interview Mrs Painter and the girls anyway. We’ll make up our own minds about how much truth there is in what they say.”

“I’m afraid Mrs Painter couldn’t stay. She has a job somewhere or other. Of course you may meet the students. Do you want to see them individually or as a group?”

“As a group is fine. And we’d like Mrs Painter’s contact details.”

“I’ll ask my PA to write them down for you. I’ll also ask her to fetch the girls.”

Richard Lennard moved over to his desk and pushed the button on his intercom.

“Kathleen? Bring in the three students now, if you would.”

Verity stood up.

“Just one thing, Mr Lennard. We’d like to see them on their own, if you don’t mind.”

A frown of annoyance crossed the headteacher’s face, but he was a smooth enough operator to banish it in a second. He continued the conversation without missing a beat.

“Really?” he said. “I’m not sure that’s advisable. It’s my duty to look after their welfare, in the absence of their parents. I’m not suggesting you would do anything improper, but they might get upset. Someone from the school should be here to terminate the interview if we feel it appropriate.”

“You’re absolutely correct,” Verity said, as if conceding a point. “And, to follow the rules strictly, that person should be a woman. One of the female staff, perhaps?”

“They’re all teaching at the moment. I really think . . .”

“Your secretary, then? Perhaps you could spare her for a few minutes?” Secretly Verity thought if there was one person before whom the girls were unlikely to give way to tears, it would be that sharp-faced woman.

“We can ask her.”

There was a businesslike rap at the door. The secretary entered, the three girls following in single file in her wake. Verity watched them keenly. The first was tall and willowy, with long dark hair, very long legs and a shorter skirt than Verity would have thought school rules permitted. The second was dumpy, with frizzy hair and full red cheeks. She, too, wore a short skirt, though it did nothing to complement her saddle-bag thighs and unsculpted legs. Verity felt a wave of sympathy. Turn back the clock a dozen years and she wouldn’t have looked unlike this girl. The third girl was also slender, taller even than the first, but more conservatively dressed. Although she didn’t lack grace, she gave the impression of being very robust: there was a strength and solidity about her. Her hair was so fair it gleamed silver in the artificial light. Verity recognised her immediately.

“Philippa!” she said. “I thought you’d be taking the day off school today. And I thought you went to Boston High.”

The girl shot her a look of blank amazement. She turned to the headteacher as if asking him to explain. He seemed embarrassed.

“You’re speaking to Cassandra Knipes,” he said. “She’s our head girl. Perhaps you’ve confused her with someone else?” There was a strained edge to his voice that Verity noted, even as she burned with embarrassment herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said, addressing Cassandra. “You remind me exactly of a young woman whom I met yesterday evening. You both have very distinctive hair. In fact, you could be her twin. But, as Mr Lennard says, I must be mistaken.”

The interview had got off to a poor start. Giash threw her a sympathetic look: he’d decided to remain in the background after Richard Lennard’s snub. Verity could see the wisdom of this, though she’d have welcomed some help to dig herself out of the hole.

“Would you mind staying with us?” Verity said to the secretary. “In the role of responsible adult.” The short, fat girl stifled a giggle. Like Cassandra Knipes, the secretary turned automatically to Richard Lennard for advice.

“I’ve said it’s OK by me if you have time, Mrs Hargreaves,” he said smoothly, his urbanity swiftly reasserting itself. Mrs Hargreaves clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

“If you say so, Mr Lennard.”

“Thank you. I’ll fetch more chairs,” he said, darting with a sudden burst of energy to a pile of wood and steel chairs stacked behind the door. He returned with four and fanned them out in a semi-circle next to the chair Verity occupied. Giash remained standing against the wall.

“I’ll stand,” said Mrs Hargreaves.

Lennard gestured to the three girls to be seated and took the last chair himself. Still humbled by her faux pas, Verity didn’t pluck up the courage to remind him that he’d agreed to leave them to it. The interview consequently began in very stilted fashion, constrained both by Kathleen Hargreaves’ cold stare and Richard Lennard’s slippery smile.

“I’m PC Tandy,” Verity said. “Let’s start with your names. I know Cassandra’s now.” She smiled at Cassandra, who looked down at her feet.

“I’m Leonora Painter,” piped the short, fat girl.

“Isobel Baxter.”

“Now tell me about this morning. Were you walking to school together?”

“No,” said Isobel. “Cassie and I were walking together – I usually call for her on my way. Leo’s mother brought her in the car. When we came round the corner, there was a man hovering near the school gate. Leo’s mother had parked on the other side of the road. She flashed her headlights at us so we went over to speak to her. She told us to get in the car with Leo. She said the man was behaving strangely and we shouldn’t try to get past him.”

“How was he behaving strangely?”

“He was walking up and down by the entrance to the drive, muttering to himself,” said Leonora. “And he was wearing a long, dirty mac.”

“A dirty old man in a mac,” said Isobel. “That’s what Mrs Painter thought.”

“Did he do anything else?”

“You mean . . . expose himself, or something?” said Cassandra tentatively. Mrs Hargreaves’s face darkened with disapproval. It said plainly that Cassandra should know nothing of such things.

“Yes, that, or anything else at all that any of you found worrying,” Verity continued.

“Not really,” said Isobel.

“No,” said Cassandra.

“Mum and I just got a feeling about him,” said Leonora defensively.

“Did he speak to any of you?”

All three girls shook their heads.

“Had you ever seen him before?”

“No,” said Leonora and Isobel, almost in unison.

“Cassandra?”

“I’m not sure. There was something familiar about him – but from the past, if you know what I mean. From a long time ago. Almost as if I dreamt it.”

Verity nodded.

“Well,” said Richard Lennard briskly, “PC Tandy isn’t here to listen to your dreams.” He turned to Verity. “The bell’s just rung for the next lesson. If they hurry, they’ll get to it in time. I don’t think there’s anything else you need to ask them, do you?”

“Not now,” said Verity. “But we always take reports of this nature seriously. Mrs Painter was right to bring it to your attention.” She smiled at the girls. “I’m going to give you each one of my cards. My mobile number is printed on them. I want you to call me if you see this man hanging around again. Is that OK?”

The girls nodded, took the cards, and rose to their feet.

“Thank you,” said Cassandra, taking the lead.

“Yes, thank you,” said the other two in unison.

 

As soon as they’d gone, Kathleen Hargreaves gave Verity a tight nod. “I’ll be getting on, then.” She marched out of the door and closed it behind her.

“What did I tell you?” said Richard Lennard, but in a friendly way. He was being magnanimous now his point had been proved. “They have vivid imaginations, bless them. And Mrs Painter should know better.”

“We’ll still arrange to talk to her, even so,” said Verity. “The experience was obviously unsettling and I don’t think it should be ignored.”

“Unsettling mostly for Leonora Painter and her mother. I got the impression that Isobel and Cassandra were baffled by their behaviour.”

“You may be right about Isobel. I’m not so sure about Cassandra. Does she have relatives at the school, by the way? Sisters or cousins?”

“I don’t think so. She’s an only child. Her parents are quite elderly – relatively speaking, of course.”

“Curious,” said Verity, almost to herself. “I saw a girl last night who would have passed for her double.”

Richard Lennard smiled benignly.

“Yes, well, that happens to me quite frequently. When you see as many adolescent girls as I do, you realise there are only so many physical types. Sometimes I catch myself out calling a student the name of someone I knew years ago.”

“I’m sure that’s true. But you must agree that Cassandra’s looks are unusual. Not many girls are as fair as she is, especially in this area. The girl I saw last night had a similar physique, too: slender but tall and strong-looking, and with similar delicate features.”

Instead of replying, Richard Lennard glanced at his watch. Verity took the hint.

“We mustn’t keep you any longer. Here’s my card. Please report it at once if the loiterer comes back. You should make sure you have staff patrolling the school grounds and the area outside the gate when the students are arriving and leaving, at least for a week or two.”

“Certainly. There should have been staff on duty this morning.” He frowned. “I shall check to see where they were.”

“We’ll arrange for a patrol car to drop by at intervals to carry out spot-check surveillance.”

 

“Well, what did you make of that? I’ve never seen a colleague so badly treated. I’m sorry. I didn’t quite know how to handle it,” said Verity, as she and Giash were walking away from the school.

“Don’t worry. It’s happened to me before, though not often.”

“Racial prejudice?” Verity was uncomfortable saying the words, but she thought to ignore the issue would be ridiculous.

“Perhaps. But it may not be as straightforward as that. My cousin’s family removed their daughter from that school. Mr Lennard may recognise the name.”

“He didn’t thank me for offering to patrol the area around the school.”

“No. My overall impression was that he didn’t want us to have anything whatever to do with the school. His attitude to the safety of the girls was hard to understand.”

Verity found it troubling. Besides the headmaster’s strange behaviour there was the uncanny similarity between Philippa Grummett and Cassandra Knipes.

She looked at her watch. There was no prospect now of her reaching the Pilgrim Hospital in time to help DI Yates interview Ruby Grummett. She called Tim’s mobile.

“DI Yates? It’s PC Tandy. I’m afraid that dealing with the incident at school took longer than I thought . . .”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve asked DC Armstrong to accompany me.”

“Damn!” said Verity aloud, as she ended the call. She’d become intrigued by the Grummett case. Now she’d probably not be asked to help with it again.

“Bad luck!” said Giash sympathetically. “But don’t take it too much to heart. You’re on his radar now. You’ve made a good impression on him lately.”