AJ: Around three, I suppose. I didn’t check the time.
PP: Didn’t she write the time in the register?
AJ: I watched her sign out but I didn’t go and check what she’d written. Why should I?
PP: Why didn’t you bring the register out?
AJ: I didn’t think it mattered. I just thought the reception-class one mattered.
PP: Surely the whole point of that register is to know who’s in the building in case of fire?
AJ: Look, I’m new, OK? Only been here a term. They had a fire practice a few weeks back but I was off sick. Even if I had brought the register out it wouldn’t have made no difference, right? It would have said Jenny was out of the building. Shown her bloody signature. Proved what I am telling you now. That she signed herself out.
I glance at Jen, enough to know that she still can’t remember and that it’s tearing her up.
‘Perhaps she just doesn’t want everyone to think it was her fault,’ I say.
Because why on earth would Jenny go in again?
PP: When did you realise that Jennifer Covey was still in the building?
AJ: I saw her mother running in, yelling for her. And then that daft cow went in too.
PP: Do you mean Rowena White?
AJ: Yeah. There were fire engines coming up the road by then. She should have left it up to them, not made their job even harder for them. They ended up having to rescue her too. Not sure what she was trying to prove. She must have wanted the attention.
I hear Annette Jenks’s jealousy without needing to listen to her voice. Because when it came down to it, the drama queen failed to do anything remotely deserving of attention. I can almost taste the bitterness of her words. She’ll be seething now about Rowena’s small mention in the Richmond Post.
[Detective Sergeant Baker asks PP out of the room. After three minutes PP returns.]
PP: Do you know Silas Hyman?
I remember Sarah telling you that the head teacher or a governor would have given the police information on anyone who could have a grudge against the school, ‘straight off the bat’. So someone, presumably Sally Healey, had told the police about Silas Hyman.
Perfect recall and logic and they think I’m a cabbage.
AJ: I’ve no idea who Silas Hyman is. What kind of a name is Silas anyways?
PP: He was a teacher at the school, who left in April.
AJ: I wouldn’t know him then, would I? Only started working there in May.
PP: You’ve never heard of him?
AJ: As I said, only started at the place in May.
PP: Nobody gossiped about him?
AJ: No.
PP: A teacher who’d been fired only a few weeks before and there was no gossip?
[AJ shakes head.]
PP: I must say that I find it hard to believe.
My respect for the harsh-faced PP goes up a notch.
‘You see,’ Jenny says. ‘Silas and Annette didn’t even know each other. Let alone have an affair.’
Sarah gets another crumpled statement out of her bag.
Her mobile rings and she starts, as if someone has seen her. I go closer and hear Mohsin’s voice at the other end.
‘Prescoes, that printing company, they printed three hundred copies of the Sidley House calendar. Does that help at all?’
‘Three hundred people knew that it was Adam’s birthday on Wednesday. And also that it was sports day so the school would be virtually empty. What about the witness?’
‘Sorry, honey, Penny won’t budge on that, and no one else is talking to me either. They probably don’t trust me. Fuck knows why.’
She thanks him and hangs up. Then she smooths out the next crumpled statement.
The key this time is SH for Sally Healey. The interviewer is AB – Detective Inspector Baker. The time it started was 5.55 p.m. The interviews were almost concurrent.
22
I remember Sally Healey on telly the evening of the fire – her pink linen shirt and cream trousers and assembly voice and immaculate make-up. And how the carefully assembled frontage had started to fall apart.
AB: Can you tell me who you knew to be in the building at the time of the fire?
SH: Yes. There was one reception class. Our other reception class was at the zoo. All their names are in the register I gave you. There was also Annette Jenks, the school secretary; Tilly Rogers, a reception teacher; and, of course, Jennifer Covey, who’s a temporary classroom assistant.
AB: Was every other member of staff out of the building?
SH: Yes, at sports day. We needed all of them. We are ambitious in the number of activities and it would be chaotic unless there were enough staff to run things smoothly.
‘Christ,’ Jenny says. ‘Even now she’s trying to promote the school.’
AB: Did you see any members of staff return to the building?
SH: Yes, Rowena White. Or, at least, I didn’t see her but I was told she’d gone to get the medals.
AB: Anyone else?
SH: No.
AB: I know one of my officers asked you about this at the scene of the fire, but if you’d bear with me, I need to go over the same territory again.
SH: Of course.
AB: How easy is it for people to get into the school?
SH: We have one entrance to the school, which is a locked gate. It has a numerical keypad. Only members of staff know the code. Everyone else needs to be buzzed in from the office. Unfortunately, there have been instances in the past where parents have been irresponsible and held open the gate for someone, without checking. We had an incident when a complete stranger got into the school because a parent inadvertently held the gate open for him. Since then we have had a monitor installed and our school secretary has to watch exactly who she is letting in.
AB: So you think your school is secure?
SH: Absolutely. Security for the children is our top priority.
‘Like Annette can be bothered to watch the monitor,’ Jenny says scathingly.
‘Mrs Healey must know what she’s like, surely?’
‘Yes. I don’t suppose she did when she hired her.’
‘And she knows that parents and some children know the code?’
‘Gets really annoyed about it.’
If she’s lying about the security on the gate, what else might she be lying about?
AB: Do you know of anyone who has a grudge against the school?
SH: No, of course not.
AB: I have to tell you that it looks, at this stage, as if the fire was arson. So can you please think if there is anyone who may have a grudge against the school?
[SH is silent.]
AB: Mrs Healey?
SH: How could someone do this?
There are no stage directions for her mood at this point – misery? fury? panic?
AB: Can you answer the question, please.
SH: I cannot think of anyone who would want to do this.
AB: Perhaps a member of staff who-
[SH interrupts.]
SH: No one would do this.
AB: Have any members of staff left the school recently? Say, in the last six months to a year?
SH: But that’s nothing to do with the fire.
AB: Please answer the question.
SH: Yes. Two. Elizabeth Fisher, our former school secretary. And Silas Hyman, a year-three teacher.
AB: What were the circumstances?
SH: Elizabeth Fisher was getting too old to be able to do the job. So sadly I had to let her go. There were no hard feelings. Though I know she misses the children a great deal.
AB: I’ll need her contact details, if that’s possible?
SH: Yes. I have her number and address in my palmtop.
AB: You also said Silas Hyman, a year-three teacher?
SH: Yes. Circumstances there were more unfortunate. There was an accident in the playground when he was on duty.
AB: When was this?
SH: The last week of March. I had to ask him to leave. As I said, health and safety is our top priority.
AB: You actually said security was your top priority.
SH: It all lumps in together, in the end, doesn’t it? Keeping the children safe from physical or criminal harm.