Twisted (27 page)

He whipped round in embarrassment. ‘I am so sorry, I am Detective Inspector Reid and—’

The woman interrupted him. ‘They are finishing their class in a few moments and I don’t want them disturbed. Miss Harrington said you were here, so let me finish up and if you continue round this path and turn left there is a cottage at the end of it. The door is open so please let yourself in – it’s lunch time in a few minutes so we can talk there in private without interruption.’

He thanked her and she gave him a lovely smile. DS Lane had said she was very attractive but he was taken aback by just how gorgeous she was. She had what he would describe as Marilyn Monroe hair, that thick curly platinum-blonde, wide blue eyes and a small straight nose and then a mouth not covered in garish red lipstick but pink and natural. He had not had time to take in what she was wearing as he had been so struck by her face. As he walked to her cottage he laughed to himself as she must have first thought of him as some kind of peeping tom. Even though it was later than he had anticipated being at the school, he had no intention of leaving until he had talked to Miss Polka.

Arriving at the cottage, he let himself in just as the sound of the dinner bell could be heard from the main building. While he had been unable to see what the rest of Miss Polka looked like as he had been so smitten by her face, he now had every opportunity, as lining the small hallway were numerous photographs of her. A couple were of her posed naked like a Greek statue and she was breathtakingly pretty. Although the photos looked as if they had been taken a few years ago, he couldn’t resist examining them more closely, with the result that he was caught out yet again as she walked in and he flushed with embarrassment as she laughed.

‘I see you’ve found me. That was taken a while back, Sonoran Desert, Mexico.’

She ushered him into a small sitting room with more portraits of her, and again she laughed.

‘I used to live with the artist – nobody wanted to buy them so I kept them all here. Now let me make us a sandwich and put on some fresh coffee.’

‘Thank you, I’d like that.’

She cocked her head to one side, her expression suddenly very serious. ‘I need to talk to you about Amy; she is sadly missed. If you’re interested, there’s some of her work over on the window seat.’

The folder was made of cardboard with a red cord around it, and as he untied it some of the sketches fell onto the floor. They were in charcoal, smudged like shadows, and appeared to be of grotesque skeletons. Two were what he realized must be self-portraits, but both were incomplete, as if Amy had deliberately intended drawing only part of her face and leaving the other side blank. They were very good, but also quite unnerving. He couldn’t help but wonder why she had chosen to leave her face incomplete.

Chapter 20

M
iss Polka carried in a tray of sandwiches and two mugs of coffee, with milk and sugar on the side. She was wearing a simple pale blue shirt tied at the waist with a patent leather belt and a full circular skirt of some soft material.

‘Sorry, did I make you jump?’ she said, smiling, and then indicated her black ballet pumps.

‘I always wear these as I am on my feet for most of the day. A long time ago I wanted to be a ballet dancer, but as often with teenage dreams I never had the opportunity or probably the inclination to put in the amount of hard work it takes to be an accomplished dancer.’

She moved like one, passing him a plate with a napkin and offering him his mug of coffee, then spooning in the two sugars he asked for. She placed a small round table beside him, so he was able to put down his plate and drink his coffee easily. It was strong, and the tuna mayonnaise and salad sandwich on crusty brown bread was delicious. She sat to one side of him on a small round cushioned stool.

‘This is just what I needed, Miss Polka.’

‘Please, it’s Jo, short for Josephine. Just so you know, I don’t often allow any of the pupils to be here, it’s sort of frowned on, even more so if Miss Harrington were to see all my nudity on display. It’s my private little domain and I don’t have any other place during term time, but during breaks I travel as much as possible.’

He nodded, remarking that he had always felt teachers had it cushy with so many holidays, unlike himself. She smiled and gave a small nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, saying that if teachers’ wages were higher then she would agree with him.

‘I find Amy’s artwork a bit disturbing,’ he confessed, finishing his sandwich.

‘Yes, but she is very talented, extremely versatile – some of her fabric designs are excellent and her still lifes even more so.’

She nibbled at her sandwich, and then nodded to the portfolio. ‘They were done last term. I have hopes of her working in oils or acrylic, but she seems to avoid colours – even her fabric designs are always in black and white.’

‘Why has she left half her face unfinished?’

‘I don’t know – she certainly was able to sketch her own likeness.’

‘Yes, I recognized her straight away.’

‘She is a very beautiful girl, very tall and slender, but I think her inability to make the usual schoolgirl attachments saddens her.’

‘Attachments?’

She seemed flustered. ‘By that I mean making friends – she is very much a loner, and it concerns me because it makes her appear very aloof, as if she is much older than the other girls in her class.’

‘You like her?’

Miss Polka nodded and turned away from him. He sipped his coffee, watching her, and got the feeling she wanted to tell him something but was avoiding it. Eventually she spoke quietly.

‘What do you think has happened to her?’

‘I honestly don’t know. As you are probably aware she had a sleepover with Serena Newman, but said she was going to her father’s place in Mayfair and no one has seen her since.’

‘I found it odd that she would even agree to staying at Serena’s – not that I have anything against her, but they were never what I would call close friends.’

‘I was just with Amy’s class and it became evident Serena is a bit envious of her,’ he suggested.

‘Well Amy does not cultivate friendships, and when I said she is a talented artist, she is also academically very clever, as well as athletically. In fact, everything she does she accomplishes with ease and never appears to need to work at it; she’s also very adult and sophisticated for her age.’

‘Do you think she is sexually aware?’

Miss Polka blinked rapidly and wafted her hand. The question seemed to throw her, as she stood up and asked if he would like a top-up of coffee. He declined and she sat down again, hugging her knees and lowering her head so he could not see her face.

‘Why did you ask me that?’ She still did not look at him.

‘There is a possibility that Amy is being or has been abused, but I am unable to give you any details.’

He delved into his pocket and drew out the crumpled paper from his pocket. ‘Do you know about something called cyber-bullying on Facebook?’

‘I know that it goes on, of course. You know what teenagers are like. They live for their social network sites and Facebook pages, and even if they are being bullied, cyberbullied, they can’t tear themselves away. Of course you can’t actually post anonymously on Facebook, but that doesn’t stop the bullies setting up fake accounts, specifically to post nasty comments on girls they are bullying. And then there’s this website called ask fm that they can connect to through their Facebook accounts. You can set up a profile and invite comments about yourself, and those comments are anonymous, and they can be really vicious.’

‘You’re very well informed,’ he said quietly.

She was running her fingers through her curly hair, still hunched on the low stool.

‘I think Amy was being bullied, cyberbullied, and I’m worried that it might have been the reason she has run away.’

‘You never mentioned it to the detectives that came here.’

‘No, but there is a reason. You see, the girls are not allowed iPads, just their mobile phones to call home. The rules are there for obvious reasons, and God only knows what they would otherwise be watching on the internet under their duvet covers.’

She began to pluck at her skirt, and was becoming agitated, as if she couldn’t keep her hands still.

‘Did she say anything about being bullied on Facebook?’

Miss Polka shook her head, sprang up and picked up the tray of dirty crockery and walked out. It was very frustrating, but just as he was about to follow her, his mobile rang. It was DS Lane. Reid went into the hallway to take the call.

‘We’ve got something off the CCTV footage the vice squad handed over. We have a clear picture of Amy Fulford standing on the pavement in South Audley Street for over five minutes, we’ve got a fucking punter stopping and she leans over as if talking to him, and then he speeds off; we’ve got the registration, she is wearing school uniform and the date was three weeks before she went missing.’

Reid sighed. ‘Whatever was said between Amy and the driver is critical to the investigation. Get the driver traced asap and get him questioned.’

‘Yes, guv. Bit of a sad revelation if she was turning tricks.’

‘Find the driver before assuming anything. I’ll be back from the school in about an hour.’

‘You with the delectable Miss Polka? I wouldn’t mind taking an art class with her.’

‘Get on with your work,’ Reid said, then ended the call and returned to the sitting room.

Yet again she surprised him, her ballet pumps made her so silent. She had in her hand an iPad and held it out for him. ‘I took this from her because if it had been discovered she would have been on detention, which always means they have to return earlier than scheduled on a Sunday, and I knew how she treasured her weekends.’

He frowned as he took it from her. ‘You should have handed it over before now. Does it have a password?’

‘I don’t know. I’m sorry, but I put it in a drawer and forgot about it.’

She hung her head in an apologetic childish manner, and then spread her hands. ‘I am so sorry but I was concerned about possible repercussions.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘This is very difficult.’ She started running her fingers through her hair again.

‘Miss Polka, I have just had a call from one of my officers: your exemplary pupil has been caught on CCTV camera by the vice squad, in her school uniform, turning tricks. It seems she was very likely prostituting herself, so never mind about the cyberbullying and what might be on her iPad, I am now concerned that she was picked up by some bastard and he’s killed her. You have withheld what could be a vital clue as to—’

At this onslaught she broke down sobbing, and Reid knew he had gone too far. He knew he shouldn’t have lost control, but the phone call had sickened him, and now he was ashamed as she was clearly terribly shocked. He did the unthinkable and put his arms around her.

‘Shush. I’m sorry, I should never have let that out, and we do not have confirmation. We also have a situation with her father which I can’t really divulge to you.’

She buried her face in his shoulder, her whole body shaking. He kept his arms around her, but his intuition was telling him that Miss Polka knew something. It was when she had said ‘repercussions’, and now he wondered if she meant for herself or Amy. Gradually the crying stopped and she slowly moved away from him to make her way with dance-like steps to a box of tissues. She plucked one out, blew her nose and wiped her eyes.

‘I could lose my job,’ she said quietly.

He was certain she was not referring to keeping the iPad, but he was astute enough not to make a reply. Waving the tissue, she gestured to the paintings and nude photographs of herself, and then crumpled the tissue in her hand.

‘You know I said I lived with an artist? She was also my partner and when she left me I was devastated. We actually met at art school and it wasn’t until I was thirty-two that I began teaching. I have worked at two schools before being employed here, and although nowadays it is probably acceptable I would say that Miss Harrington might not have offered me this position and the chance to live on the premises had she known about my sexuality.’

Reid was taken aback, but managed not to show it. She gave a long sigh, and then began to twirl a curl through her fingers.

‘I might as well come clean with you, and you have to understand it was truthfully never my intention for it to happen, but now I feel wretched about it. As a teacher I am obviously to blame and should never have allowed myself to be drawn in, but I was, and now if it was to come out then I might as well pack my bags.’

‘I can’t promise you anything, but if you know something, and if it is a possible reason for Amy to disappear, then the sooner you tell me the better and I will endeavour to maintain your privacy.’

‘Thank you. Loath as I am to admit it, it happened, but it was never instigated by me.’

He waited, suppressing his irritation and allowing her the time to admit what he suspected.

‘It started last term; she had returned from her weekend with her mother, and she had been brought back earlier than usual. It was an awful night with rain lashing down. Anyway, her dorm was empty, and she told me she didn’t want to go into supper as she had already eaten. Sundays I am not on duty but there are always teachers around, but this night for some reason, whether or not it was the truth, she said she was all by herself and felt lonely. I think she might have been standing out in the rain for some time, maybe getting up the courage to come here – either way she was on my doorstep, soaking wet, in just a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. The girls often come back to school at the weekend in their own clothes and bring their clean uniform with them.’

He wished she’d get on with it, but whether or not she was drawing it all out as an excuse, he didn’t want to interrupt. ‘I invited her in, and as she was soaking I offered to let her use my bathroom and my hair dryer. I put on some soup and boiled a kettle to make a pot of tea, but then she came into the kitchen . . . she was naked apart from a bath towel. She said she had eaten and didn’t want anything, and I swear to you I did not encourage it, but she dropped the towel and embraced me. It does not make it in any way an excuse for what happened next, but in all honesty Amy was the instigator and I did try to dissuade her but she was very insistent.’