The Teacher: A shocking and compelling new crime thriller – NOT for the faint-hearted! (17 page)

He walked out of the bathroom and over to Grey who was looking through Ryan’s crime scene photos. She looked up at him.

‘What’s going on in that head of yours?’ Grey asked, obviously noticing the pained look of confusion on his face.

‘Daniels found the knife at Ryan’s place.’

‘Right.’

‘Daniels found Ryan’s body.’

‘I’m with you.’

‘You called Daniels when we found the doctor’s body, he got there pretty sharpish, was happy to let us go without taking our statements straight away. Maybe he didn’t want us there for the search.’

‘What are you getting at?’ Grey asked.

‘It’s always him, always. What if he’s part of this big conspiracy Ryan was going on about?’

‘Why Daniels? What could he possibly have to gain from framing Ryan Hart? And what do we do if he is? How do we prove it?’

‘Nothing to gain, as far as I can see. You need to get your friend in forensics to look at all the evidence …’ Adrian paused for a moment, thinking about what Ryan had said to him. Something occurred to him. ‘Get him to look at Kevin Hart’s pathology report too. I’m pretty sure the doc was part of it somehow. He might shed some light on this and then we can figure out what to do with Daniels.’

‘What about Markham?’

‘I don’t know, I can’t figure out where he fits in. I think we need to assume Ryan was on to something and take him out of the frame for the murders and start again. I think it’s plausible that he was just a convenient scapegoat.’

‘Are we going to tell the DCI?’

‘I don’t want to start flinging shit until I’m sure. I’m going to look at all three murders and see if I can’t find something that ties them together.’

The boards in the incident room were being cleared and everyone seemed to be pretty happy with themselves. Adrian was putting away the files on his desk, the box of documents from Ian Markham’s place, when he remembered that the papers he had found at Kevin Hart’s were still in his pocket. He pulled them out and laid each one on the table, doing the same with Markham’s. There was only one item that appeared in both piles. A private invitation to a local museum-restoration fundraiser.

What were the chances of both of these men being invited to the same party?

He looked at the tickets. They were labelled numbers 004 and 006. He would have bet his left leg that if he had access to the doctor’s house he would have found number 005. This was a connection, tenuous maybe, but a connection. There had been nothing anywhere else to link these men, no mutual friends, no mutual hangouts, nothing. From what Ryan had said it was something to do with the school, but so far there was no concrete evidence of that. They would have to get more than a dead addict’s word to get a warrant. He wanted to tell Morris, but right now no one wanted to hear it. Everyone was still in the throes of their victory dance. Grey was walking across the room towards him, she checked around her before leaning over his desk.

‘I gave the evidence and the autopsy report to my friend.’

‘I found a connection.’

‘Between Ian Markham and Ryan?’

‘No, between Ian Markham and Kevin Hart.’ He smiled, Grey leaned in closer.

‘What connection? The school?’

‘No. The school says none of them attended, but Ryan already told us his father went there so I think we can assume someone is lying, or the records have gone. The connection I found is the museum.’ He held out the two invitations.

‘Are you actually trying to clear Ryan’s name? It’s already all over the news. His poor mum.’

‘I just don’t want the real people responsible to get away with it.’

‘Well, I admire that, Miley, I really do.’

‘Go home for now, museum’s not open until nine-thirty. This party isn’t for a couple of days, they would have both been going, maybe we will find out who else got a private invitation.’

‘See you in the morning.’ She grabbed her coat and left.

Adrian shoved the invitations in his pocket and put the files back on Daniels’ desk. There were too many people around the office for him to have a proper look at what Daniels was up to, he would wait and see if Grey’s friend came through for them. He wanted to know if the knife found at Ryan’s place really was the Kevin Hart murder weapon.

Adrian was surprised to see Grey was sitting in her car smoking as usual when he left the station. Another officer that Adrian recognised as her former partner was sitting next to her, he had seen him before in the DCI’s office. Adrian smiled and waved as he walked past the front of her car. She had that look on her face again. The one he had seen at the doctor’s house – scared, pale and anxious. Adrian glanced inside the car and saw the man had his hand on her shoulder. He was a small but thickset man with dark hair, combed just right so you couldn’t see the receding hairline. Grey was staring at him as he talked quickly at her. Adrian went to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, the man’s hand moved immediately.

‘Can I help you?’ he asked.

‘You’re in my seat.’ Adrian smiled.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I said,’ – Adrian grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the car, smacking his head against the door frame on the way out, before shoving him against the car – ‘you are in my seat!’

‘Who the hell are you?’

‘I’m the guy who will fuck you up if you don’t take me seriously.’

‘Imogen, who is this dipshit?’ The man turned his head to look at Grey. Adrian open-palm slapped him across the face, the look he gave him was priceless. Adrian knew that if you wanted to upset a man, you didn’t punch him, you slapped him.

‘Stay away from Detective Grey.’ Adrian got in the car and shut the door. He looked over at Grey who was visibly stunned. ‘Drive, then! We need to make a dramatic exit.’

‘Yes, sir!’ She slammed the car into gear and pulled away, the wheels screeching beneath them.

‘You need to drive me home.’

‘All right.’

‘And pick me up in the morning, no point coming before nine though.’ He smiled.

‘Anything else?’

‘You can bring me a coffee too.’

‘All right, don’t milk it.’ She looked at him and they both erupted with laughter.

Adrian entered his house and looked at the space on the sofa where Ryan had been sitting only a few days ago. He had been scared and now it turns out he had been justified. Ryan had been dealt a crappy hand, Adrian knew all about that.

He fell asleep on the sofa watching some interactive phone-in bingo, longing for the days of low-budget American glam-hair cop dramas that only ever seemed to run at three o’clock in the morning – even that was better than being subjected to this tripe.

As promised, Grey knocked on Adrian’s door at nine sharp. She had coffee.

‘Come in!’ Adrian opened the door and walked through to the kitchen. He had sausages and bacon under the grill. He cracked some eggs in a pan.

‘What do you think the connection is, then?’ Grey asked as she shoved a piece of buttered toast into her mouth with a satisfied moan. It was like she hadn’t eaten in a week.

‘I don’t know, if only I could get into the doc’s place.’ Adrian watched her eat in mild disgust as she put the food in faster than she could chew it.

Grey rummaged around in her pockets and pulled out an envelope. Adrian handed her a full English breakfast and in turn she handed him the envelope. He opened it. Inside was the same invitation, this time with the doctor’s name. He smiled and looked at the number, he had been wrong, it was 003, and it really couldn’t be a coincidence now, could it?

‘You’ll make someone a lovely wife someday, Miley,’ she said between mouthfuls.

The Dean

Then

When Abbey arrived back at halls over a week after the assault, the room was empty. She figured Dani was at a lecture, which was a relief really. She still felt guilty for kissing Christian. Whatever happened in the moments after she had kissed him, she had still made that decision, still betrayed her friend. Above Dani’s bed were several pictures of Dani and Christian together. She recognised some as pictures from the night of the party. She felt sick at the thought of him, seeing his fake smile. She had seen his true face and now this one looked so insincere, so completely counterfeit.

She had to get out of that room. She changed her clothes and walked out of her halls and towards the University green by the plaza, a thin layer of mist made the place seem haunted. The University had relocated to this affluent part of the city near the beginning of the twentieth century. It was previously a private residence and three-hundred-acre country estate owned by one of the founders of the East India Company. Of course, it looked so different now, with the multi-million-pound red-brick and glass structures that had been added one by one over the years nestled in among the registered botanic gardens. The University was highly respected and had several wealthy benefactors, as well as proactive alumni who helped to keep it as one of the most highly regarded universities in the country.

She imagined all the things that had happened at this college, all the boys like Christian, all the naive girls like her. She felt their ghosts around her as she walked. She would have to go and see her lecturer, explain why she had missed her mid-term exam, what could she say? Not the truth, she would have to think of something. She entered the building. Even though the standard day had ended there were still students around, handing in late papers and attending their extra-curricular societies. As she approached her lecturer’s office she noticed people looking at her, people she didn’t know, some muttering to each other and laughing while keeping one eye in her direction. She had a sinking feeling as she tried to block out the sound of the whispers. What were they talking about? What were they laughing at? She could tell by the looks on their faces that they knew something, she didn’t even want to think about what they thought they knew.

The huge open space around her meant there was nowhere to hide. She couldn’t stay here, but she couldn’t throw her future away either. She had to go and speak to someone about what had happened.

Helen Lassiter’s office was open as always so she just walked in.

‘Nice of you to grace us with your presence, Abbey.’ Helen’s tone was sharper than usual. She had always been nice to her before but now Abbey felt a sting in the air.

‘Sorry I wasn’t at the test last week, I haven’t been well; I spent the week at home.’

‘I was surprised when I saw the photos of you on the college student network, you kids forget we have access to that. I was a little disappointed too, if I’m honest.’ Abbey remembered the tequila, the short dress, the kiss and cringed inwardly to herself. She had forgotten. She dreaded to think what she looked like, what people must think of her. Helen turned her computer screen to face Abbey and scrolled through the images of the party. There she was, clearly drunk and draped over various people over the course of the evening. The next picture she saw was not of her antics in the living room but of Christian’s bedroom, cold and sparse. She was partly covered by the dress, face down on the bed, hanging over the edge. She could see Christian’s arm with the tattoo and distinctive custom-made watch, shirtless, with his hand grabbing at her thigh. She felt her stomach churning. She didn’t know this picture existed. Anyone who had seen her that night would know it was her, and anyone who knew Christian would know that watch. Dani. Dani must have seen this by now. She expected almost everyone had, if it had already got back to Helen.

She looked up at Helen who was semi disapproving but also slightly smirking. ‘I didn’t know you had it in you’ was written across her face.

‘It’s not what it looks like. This is what I came to see you about! You gave that talk at the beginning of the year on campus safety.’ She saw Helen’s face harden as she spoke. ‘It was Jamie Woods and Christian Taylor, Christian took me up to his room and then Jamie came in …’

‘Think carefully about your next words, Abbey,’ Helen interrupted. ‘You know I have to mark you down for missing your test, don’t embarrass yourself by making claims you can’t substantiate.’

Abbey was lost for words. What was she saying? Maybe she didn’t understand what Abbey was trying to tell her.

‘I didn’t have a choice; they forced themselves on me, Jamie Woods and Christian Taylor,’ she reiterated more adamantly, annoyed at Helen’s dismissiveness.

‘Abbey, it’s pretty obvious from this picture that you’re having a good time. If you’re worried about your reputation I am sure this will all blow over eventually.’ She leaned in to Abbey and lowered her voice. ‘These boys have bright futures. Abbey, are you sure you want to sully their reputation to protect your own?’

Abbey was unable to speak, she had never stepped out of line in her life, and she had never even so much as handed in an assignment late. Her reputation? As if she cared about that any more. She thought by being the best person she could be that she would be above reproach, she thought at the very least she would get a fair hearing.

‘Helen, it’s really not what it looks like.’

‘Let me give you a little life advice, Abbey. We’ve all done embarrassing things, you just have to dust yourself off and keep going.’ Helen sat next to Abbey and put her hand on her shoulder, she looked her dead in the eye. ‘Think about how you want to proceed with this. You have two choices in this world, you can be a predator or you can be prey. There are no other alternatives. You need to decide which side of that fence you fall on, because once you brand yourself as one, it’s almost impossible to become the other.’

Abbey stood up and backed out of the office, unable to continue this conversation, unable to listen, unsure what was offending her most.

As she walked back to her halls she saw people looking at her, pointing her out, this time it felt so much more personal, she felt so violated. She looked up and saw the bedroom light on. Had she left it on? She couldn’t remember. Oh God, please don’t let Dani be home.

She heard the music through the door as she approached, soft guitar riffs with an anguished male voice accompaniment that Dani so liked to listen to. Abbey wanted to run away but she knew there was no running away any more. Surely it was better to face it now, then she could deal with whatever shit was thrown at her next.

Dani was sitting on the bed, shoulders shaking, head in hands. Abbey was considering walking straight back out when Dani looked up.

‘How could you?’

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

‘Oh, it can’t be what it looks like, because it looks like you and Christian …’ She began to sob slightly more dramatically than before, even with Abbey’s guilt she felt like it was an act to some degree.

‘I’m so sorry; I kissed him, that’s all.’

‘That’s not all, is it though? I mean, I saw those pictures.’ Those pictures, plural. Abbey didn’t even want Dani to elaborate on her words, she could imagine, camera phones, the easy way to spread bad news fast.

‘I swear that’s all I did; I didn’t want anything else to happen.’

‘How can I believe a word you say? I thought we were friends.’

‘He forced himself on me …’ She saw Dani’s look of despair change to one of disbelief, almost mocking, like that was an impossibility.

‘You?’ Dani spat out. Abbey realised all the words of encouragement Dani had given her over their time together had been empty words, designed to cement their friendship but not actually words she believed. She made clear at that moment, with that one word, that she thought of Abbey as beneath herself and therefore beneath Christian. ‘At least have the courage to admit you’re a man-stealing slut, Abs.’

‘I kissed him, I thought he liked me, I don’t know what I was thinking, I was really drunk.’

‘But now you’re accusing him of rape? Because you were too fucked up to remember?’

‘I remember just fine, I know what happened, him and Jamie …’

‘Him and Jamie? Together? He’s not gay, what are you saying?’

‘I don’t know, I just know it was both of them, they just wouldn’t stop.’ She realised that Jamie must have been the one taking and sending the photos, probably in a bid to split up Dani and Christian, to weaken their relationship.

‘You are so full of shit! I’m going to stay in a hotel; I can’t stay here with you.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want to break you guys up or anything.’

‘Oh, we haven’t broken up, Abbey.’ She stood up and looked down her nose at Abbey with a contemptuous smile. ‘I’m not letting a double-crossing bitch like you ruin this for me. He was drunk, he apologised, clearly his judgement was impaired.’

Abbey recalled that Christian wasn’t drunk. She started to see how manipulative he really was, or maybe this said more about Dani than him. Over the last few days Abbey’s world had fallen apart, she knew her father had struggled with the news, Dani was no longer her friend and even Helen her favourite lecturer had abandoned her. Maybe her father was right to suggest she go to the police, but she just wanted to come back to college. They had been strongly encouraged to deal with these matters ‘in-house’ and she had heard stories of girls in other universities being ostracised for prosecuting, trial by social media. If she could just get the University to discipline them then no one else had to find out. She just didn’t want to be around them, that’s all.

She walked out of the room. She couldn’t stand being judged, partly because she felt it was deserved – she had played a part in this game, she had kissed him, she couldn’t deny that, she knew that would make anything she said subject to scrutiny.

As she was walking through the campus her phone beeped. She pulled it out and looked at it, it was a picture, different to the one she had seen before, more skin, more shadows. The picture was taken from behind Christian as his clothed body lay on top of her. Her head was turned away from the camera but her dress was reduced to a belt around her waist and the inside of her thigh was finger marked and red. She started to hyperventilate as her pace quickened, she found herself walking towards the dean’s office in the main building, and she knew she had to say something now, something official; she couldn’t take much more of this.

This was the first time Abbey had been to see Dean Talbot. She had seen him just a handful of times on the campus. He was a short, bearded man and his opulent office made him seem like a garden gnome, out of place in this grand oak-panelled surrounding. She had to wait for almost an hour in the receptionist’s office before she could get an audience with him. The great and powerful Oz and she was Dorothy, lost with no friends and no way home. By all accounts the dean was friendly but formidable; from what she had heard about him he had a no nonsense approach to governing the University, putting the establishment first and woe betide anyone who tried to besmirch the great name the institute had earned over the last century. She sat on his red leather chesterfield sofa, which she was sure was older than him. She waited for him to speak and thought about her father, wondered what he was doing right now. She wished she hadn’t come back, she wished she had stayed with him.

‘How can I help you, Miss Lucas?’

‘On Saturday night I was at a party on the Beston Road campus and I was raped by two students.’ His face did not change, he stood up and walked over to her. Afraid of what he might say, she found herself shrinking backwards, already regretting her forthright outburst. She didn’t want to beat around the bush, she wanted it out, gone, done before she talked herself out of it.

‘Have you been to the police?’ His concern seemed sincere, he sat next to her and looked into her eyes with understanding and she felt like she could trust him. She felt safe, safer than her father had made her feel.

‘No, I haven’t.’ The sympathetic gaze did not waver as he took her hand, gently cocooning it in his own warm hands.

‘Have you been examined by a medical practitioner?’

‘No.’ Abbey thought she saw a glimmer of relief on his face but she couldn’t be sure.

‘What about your parents?’

‘I told my father, yes.’ This time it was harder for him to conceal his emotions as anger flickered through his eyes. He stood up and walked back to his desk and picked up a pen.

‘If you give me the names of the perpetrators I will launch an investigation.’

‘Jamie Woods and Christian Taylor.’ He looked up from his pad at the mention of Christian’s name. Christian’s father, Carl Taylor, was a well-regarded alumnus with a heavy presence on the school committee, his company had funded the refurbishment of the gym and the track fields. She knew the mention of his name had changed the game, it was written all over the dean’s face.

‘I see.’ He put his pad down and picked up his phone. ‘Gloria, could you get hold of someone over at Kane and Hall’s, please, preferably Jim if he is available. And fetch Miss Lucas a cup of tea, please.’ Kane and Hall were solicitors, she knew that much.

‘I’d like to have my father here, too,’ she said. Of course she didn’t want him here at all, but she didn’t have anyone else and she knew she couldn’t face this alone. Her dad would want to be here; at least that’s what he would tell her afterwards if she didn’t ask him to come.

‘I suppose you should have someone here to make sure it’s all done by the book,’ he acceded reluctantly. ‘Let you tell your side of the story.’ Her side of the story? She wondered what the other side would be, would they say she took advantage of them? She wondered if the dean had seen the photographs; she wondered how many photographs there were. Her stomach lurched at the very thought of it.

She sat in that same spot for over an hour while the appropriate factions were gathered and then they sat themselves around her. Eventually she was surrounded by the dean, three solicitors and a paralegal, who had all been introduced to her. Just one seat was empty; they were waiting for her father to arrive. She had told them she wouldn’t start without him and he had a fair drive to get there.