32

For a teacher of physical education, Miss Pearce seemed quite slight, but she moved with the grace of a natural athlete. By the time Black had located her, she was walking away from the playing fields ahead of an exhausted-looking bunch of mud-caked teens she’d just been cajoling on the hockey pitch. Red faces were the norm among them, giving Black the impression that she drove her girls hard.

She saw Black coming and must have anticipated that his presence here might be about the missing schoolgirl, because she turned back and almost shrieked at the girls, ‘Hit the showers! And that means all of you!’

No one gave her any lip or even groaned; they just trudged towards the changing rooms, one or two of them limping heavily.

‘Miss Pearce, I’m Detective Sergeant Black and I’d like to talk to you about Alice Teale.’

‘My office.’ She nodded in the direction he should take. ‘And call me Jessica, for Christ’s sake. You’re not thirteen.’ It was a deliberate eschewing of formality but still said with a slightly bad grace, as if she shouldn’t need to explain this to him.

Her office was little more than a cupboard with a desk and a shower built into a corner, the detritus of various sports littering the floor: a string bag full of netballs, a hockey stick, a stack of floats for the swimming pool.

‘You were in school the night Alice went missing – the last to see her, in fact.’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but I only saw her from a distance.’

‘But it was definitely her?’

‘It was definitely Alice. She had a green parka on, like Liam Gallagher’s, and a big floppy bag. It was her all right.’

‘Obviously you weren’t able to tell what kind of mood she was in. She didn’t look sad or angry – upset, maybe?’

‘I couldn’t see that from the staff-room window, but she seemed fine. She was just walking up the path away from the school. I was looking out for my fiancé, Rob, who was coming to pick me up. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen her at all.’

‘Was anyone else out there?’

‘Not with her. She was walking on her own. The only other person I saw was Simon Nash, our drama teacher, squeezing into his car.’ Black did not let on to Jessica Pearce that this was significant, but he made a mental note to let Beth know Simon Nash had left the school in his car just before Alice had walked away. ‘As he drove off, Rob turned up, so I waved to him then quickly washed up my tea cup. By the time I looked back, Alice was gone.’

‘Where do you think she went?’

‘I assume she walked down the path between the cottages. There isn’t really anywhere else to go from there.’

‘You said you were in a hurry to meet Rob.’

‘I didn’t want to keep him waiting.’

‘But you took the time to wash up a tea cup?’

‘To avoid a telling-off from the head. Dirty cups are one of his bugbears.’

‘What do you think about your headteacher?’

‘In what way?’

‘In any way.’

‘He’s all right, I suppose.’

‘Only all right?’

‘He runs a tight ship.’

‘Is that code for “He’s a bit of a bastard”?’

She smiled at that. ‘I couldn’t possibly …’ She left the sentence deliberately unfinished.

‘What about the culture here?’ When she frowned her lack of understanding, he added: ‘A number of teachers have had friendships or even relationships with students and former students.’

‘I strongly disapprove of it. If it was up to me, they’d all be fired.’

‘But it’s not up to you.’

‘No.’

‘And the head hasn’t clamped down on it. I know he’s worried about the union and everything, but …’

She snorted. ‘It’s not the union that keeps him from acting against the teachers involved.’

‘No? What is it, then?’

‘Our headteacher has been happily married for a number of years and has three children, but there’s something he would rather you didn’t know.’

‘He had an affair with a pupil?’ asked Lucas.

‘Well, sort of.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘He had an affair with a pupil years ago,’ she said with a glint in her eye. ‘And then he married her.’

‘Mrs Morgan started out as a pupil in his school?’ asked Black. ‘No wonder he feels he can’t intervene when it happens here. Does everyone know about this? I mean, how, if it was such a long time ago?’

‘Teacher jungle drums.’ She shrugged. ‘Word gets around. There’s always somebody who worked with someone who knows something.’

‘The thing is, though I obviously don’t approve of grown men courting then marrying their pupils, at least they seem to have made a life together,’ said Black. ‘The behaviour I’m referring to is quite different.’

‘Mr Keech, you mean?’ she said. ‘He’s the worst offender. He left his wife and kids ages ago; now he’s a man in his forties, in a position of power, which makes any relationship unequal and wildly inappropriate. It makes me sick, quite frankly.’

‘It’s illegal, too.’

‘If it can be proven that he started seeing them when they were pupils, yes.’

‘What do you know about Alice?’ Black asked her then. ‘Any gossip in the staff room?’

She thought for a moment. ‘Nothing much. She has a boyfriend. There was friction when one of his friends started seeing her instead, but that was some time ago.’

‘When the wall was sprayed with her name?’

‘Yes, but there hasn’t been any problem since then.’

‘No rows, tantrums or odd behaviour from Alice or anyone around her?’ he asked.

She opened her mouth to answer, then stopped, frowned and considered this for a moment. ‘Well, there was … It’s probably nothing.’ And she looked apologetic.

‘Probably,’ he told her, ‘but it might be something, so I’d rather hear it than not.’

‘Okay, well, I caught her up on the roof once.’

‘The school roof?’ So Chris wasn’t the only one who’d seen Alice Teale up there. ‘What was she doing?’

‘I have no idea. It was odd. I did ask, and she said something about liking the view, but I think she was just being lippy.’

‘And did you press her?’

‘Not really. I don’t know how used you are to dealing with teenagers. They all do strange things. I doubt she even knew the reason why she was up there herself. I just told her not to be so bloody stupid. I did say it was probably nothing.’

Simon Nash was obviously shocked to find he had been indulging in careless conversation with a detective, but he recovered and mumbled Beth an apology. They sat in chairs normally occupied by his form class.

‘I understand you teach Alice Teale?’

‘I used to,’ he corrected her. ‘When she took drama.’

‘And she is involved in the school plays, which you direct.’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that why she stayed behind on the evening she disappeared?’

‘No, she isn’t in the new play. It’s sixth-form club on a Friday evening. Most of them hang around for it. It’s very informal and a great deal cheaper than the pub. It’s also a …’ He stopped himself abruptly. ‘I was going to say safe environment, but that sounds ridiculous now.’

‘Did you spend any time with her that night?’

‘She’s in the camera club, and I run that.’

‘So you saw her that evening?’

‘There wasn’t a club meeting that night, but I don’t mind if the kids want to use the darkroom, particularly sixth-formers, who we can trust with the equipment and the chemicals. They’re less likely to burn the place down – or we hope so.’

‘And they can do that unsupervised?’

‘If they leave the place in a mess, they know I’ll withdraw the privilege.’

‘Why do you even have a darkroom?’ she asked. ‘Is it needed in a digital age?’

‘We started with old, donated cameras and couldn’t afford digital ones. My dad was into photography and I had his ancient SLR, which takes film, so I knew how to develop pictures and they let me set up the darkroom.’

‘They?’

He corrected himself: ‘The headteacher.’

‘I’m surprised young people have the patience for it, when they all have cameras in their phones.’

‘I was surprised, too,’ he said, ‘but they love it. You should see how enthusiastic they get when they use the chemicals to bring an image to life.’

Beth recalled Daniel telling her how Alice loved retro things. She began to understand the appeal of the darkroom to teenagers searching for authentic experiences.

‘Did you help Alice in the darkroom that night?’

‘I did for a while. She wanted to develop some photos of our rambling-club trip to Craster.’

‘What kind of photos?’

‘Trees, fields, a river, some shots of fellow ramblers.’

‘Were they any good?’

‘They were, actually. She has an eye for a picture. Not everyone does.’

‘How long were you in the darkroom with her?’

‘Difficult to say.’

‘Please try.’

‘Okay, well, maybe half an hour. Why do you ask?’

‘Was anyone else in there with you?’

‘Not that night, no.’

‘And did she seem normal to you that evening?’

‘I’d say so.’

‘She didn’t talk about where she might be going afterwards, or who with?’

‘No, but then I don’t really pry into the lives of my pupils and they rarely volunteer the information. Teenagers are pretty secretive.’

‘So, what did you talk about, then?’

‘Photography,’ he said, as if that were obvious. ‘Techniques for framing an image. And Alice wanted to know the difference between a telephoto lens and a zoom.’

To Beth this sounded like the kind of detailed explanation liars sometimes give, so she decided to test his knowledge. ‘Which is?’

‘Well, it’s to do with focal length, which is variable on a zoom and determines the angle of view.’

‘That’s all you talked about – photography – the whole time?’

‘I think there may have been some chat about the school play and how it was going.’

‘But you said she wasn’t in your latest play?’

‘She maintained an interest. Alice wasn’t in this one, but it was her choice, not mine.’

‘Why?’

‘The dreaded A levels. She didn’t really have the time any more and I agreed she should concentrate on revision.’

‘She has a very full life outside of school hours,’ Beth observed. ‘A part-time job, various clubs, a busy social life and, of course, relationships.’

‘I think she had a relationship,’ he said lightly. ‘There’s a boyfriend, isn’t there?’ He said this as if he were searching his memory, trying to recall something he was only vaguely aware of. Beth immediately felt he was lying, or at least trying not to admit that he knew all about it.

‘Christopher Mullery,’ he said finally. ‘Nice lad.’

‘The poor boy is worried sick.’

‘Well, he would be.’

‘She ever talk about her relationship with you at all?’

‘She may have mentioned she had a boyfriend, but other than that …’ He shook his head.

‘What about her home life – her father, mother, brother?’

‘Only vaguely.’ When Beth stayed silent, he added: ‘Occasional mentions of her father being cross with her if she got home late. I think he has a bit of a short fuse.’

‘And she lived way over the other side of town, so the chances of her being back late would have been higher.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Did you feel sorry for her?’

‘She’s hardly the first girl of her age to have a strict father, but I suppose I did a bit, yes.’

‘Is that why you gave her lifts home?’ asked Beth.

The question was like a grenade dropped right into the middle of their conversation. She watched him closely while it went off. He looked as if he was trying to work out how she had heard about the lifts. ‘That was only a few … A couple of times.’

‘A couple?’ she asked. ‘Or a few? Just for the sake of clarity.’

He frowned as if he were trying to remember. ‘I would say probably four times, in the course of an entire term. Look, I live in that direction. It’s not much of a diversion to swing by her street on my way home. I didn’t make a habit of it but, once or twice, after rehearsals for the last play, and a couple of times when she was working late in the darkroom, then yes, I did offer her a lift, and she accepted. I have a duty of care, as we all do.’

Beth nodded as if she understood and perhaps even agreed with his statement, then said, ‘She’s very pretty, Alice.’

She wondered if he might deny this or claim to have never noticed her looks, but instead, he said easily, ‘She is.’

‘You’re a young man, Mr Nash, only a few years older than her. You probably have more in common with Alice than with some of the other teachers.’

‘I enjoy her company and she is a pretty girl, but then I’ve known a lot of very attractive women in my time. You’re not entirely unpresentable yourself, but I have managed to resist the temptation to make a pass at you, and you’re not even my pupil. Alice is and it wouldn’t be appropriate, even if I wasn’t taken, which I am.’

‘You have a partner?’ asked Beth. She knew the answer already but didn’t want to reveal how much she had learned from Kirstie.

‘Fiancée.’ He took out his wallet and opened it to show a picture of the two of them close up, laughing at someone else’s wedding, an informal selfie of a perfect couple, their faces close together, almost touching. ‘That’s Karen.’ Beth had to admit that his fiancée was stunning and easily on a par, looks-wise, with Alice Teale. She also looked several years older and more sophisticated than the missing girl.

‘I hope that allays your suspicions.’

‘Do you live with your fiancée?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you tell her when you gave lifts to Alice Teale?’

There was a second’s hesitation. ‘I’m almost sure I will have done.’

‘If I called her now, she’d confirm that?’ asked Beth.

‘Presumably. I’m pretty certain I would have mentioned it, but she’s not the jealous type, so I imagine she barely took it in, and I can guarantee it won’t have bothered her.’

‘When’s the wedding?’

‘Next year. We’re in no rush. Like I said, we already live together, so …’

‘Congratulations.’

Simon Nash seemed more relaxed once he had proven the existence of his fiancée, but Beth kept coming with the questions.

‘You didn’t give Alice Teale a lift home on the night she disappeared. Why not?’

‘I just didn’t offer. Obviously, now, I wish I had. I keep thinking that, if I had just driven her home, she might be safe and well now, instead of …’

‘Instead of?’

‘Missing, obviously.’

‘Why didn’t you offer?’

‘She didn’t want a lift.’

‘How do you know that if you didn’t actually ask her?’

‘She was keen to stay a little longer.’

‘In the darkroom?’

‘No, she had finished in the darkroom. I got the impression she had something else to do or someone to talk to.’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I cleared up and got my stuff together, then I went home.’

‘Miss Pearce saw you leave the school from the staff-room window. She saw Alice leave, too, on foot, just moments after your car pulled away, so Alice didn’t stay all that long.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘She mustn’t have done.’

His answers were calm and measured, betraying no sign of guilt or stress. There was no reason for Beth to be suspicious of the man and yet, for some reason, she was. She decided to keep at him. ‘Is it normal for a teacher to give up his Friday evening to hang out with the sixth-formers?’

‘It’s not compulsory, but it gets you Brownie points from the head. He doesn’t force you, but …’

‘You feel obliged to?’

‘There are teachers who don’t get involved in anything, but I’m one of the newer ones.’

‘Must be a pain, though, hanging out with a bunch of adolescents when you could be at home with your fiancée.’

‘It comes with the job, and she accepts that.’

‘How long did it take you to finish off after Alice left the darkroom?’

‘A few minutes.’

‘How many minutes?’

‘Five, I suppose, and then I got changed.’

‘You change your clothes to go home?’

‘I wear sports gear at sixth-form club,’ he said, ‘for the badminton and basketball.’

‘Do you shower as well?’

‘Yes.’

‘It would be a good twenty minutes or more, then, before you finally left.’

‘And people saw me heading down to get changed and then afterwards, as I was leaving. You can check.’

‘I will,’ she said. ‘And yet you and Alice still left at the same time.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I don’t say so. A witness does. You were seen by the same person.’

‘Miss Pearce. I know, you said.’

‘She saw you drive off just as Alice was walking away.’

‘Well, I didn’t see her,’ said Nash. ‘Alice, I mean.’ Beth now realized there was perhaps a twenty-minute window in Alice’s evening that was unaccounted for, if he was telling the truth. ‘I assumed she would have left by then.’ He added: ‘Was she hanging out with friends?’

‘No one else saw her after she left the darkroom, only Miss Pearce, and she was the last person to see her.’

Simon Nash gave her a helpless look, as if he couldn’t be of any further assistance with that. Was he being entirely honest with her, or was he more than just Alice’s teacher? The thought of that made Beth recall the sighting of Alice in the big black car down by the railway station as it sped away.

‘What car do you drive, Mr Nash?’

‘I own a BMW 5 Series,’ he said.

‘Colour?’

‘Blue.’

‘Dark or light blue?’

‘They call it Mediterranean blue,’ he said. ‘It’s darkish.’

But was it dark enough to be mistaken for black at night, moving at speed between the platforms? At least she now knew he could not have been sitting in the parked red car that had been spotted between the cottages and the allotments.

‘Nice car on a teacher’s pay.’ When Nash didn’t answer, she added, ‘I suppose Daddy bought it. Sorry, I mean Daddy-in-law.’

If he was rankled by her knowing or guessing that, he tried not to show it. ‘It was a wedding gift,’ he mumbled. ‘He bought Karen a car, too.’

‘But the wedding’s not till next year?’

‘He was pleased when we said we were going to get married.’

Beth couldn’t imagine what it would be like to marry into such wealth and never have to worry about money again.

‘One last thing. When you were driving away from the school, did you see anyone else hanging around there?’

When he answered he sounded hesitant. ‘Not at first, no.’

‘But you did see someone – is that what you’re saying?’

‘Further down the street, almost into the town. I saw him then.’

‘Who?’

‘Alice’s boyfriend, Chris.’

‘You saw Chris? Are you sure about that?’ She needed to be certain because Chris had told everyone he hadn’t left his house that night. If Nash was right about this, then the boy had lied to them. Alice was not seen again beyond the school perimeter, so it looked as if someone must have met her there. Maybe it was her boyfriend.

‘It was only a glimpse as I drove by, but I’m pretty certain it was him.’

‘What was he doing?’

‘I assumed he was walking up to meet Alice. Sorry, is this significant? Should I have mentioned it earlier?’

Maybe you should have, thought Beth, or perhaps it was perfect timing on your part, to leave me with that revelation about Chris just as I was drawing our interview to a close. ‘Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Nash.’