‘Superintendent, there are more than five hundred students in Priory Park. I don’t know the personal timetable of every one.’
‘I’m not asking about them all. Just Melanie.’
‘I can access hers if you wish.’
‘That would be helpful.’
She opened a drawer, took out a laptop, worked the keys and said, ‘One of her A-level subjects is art.’
‘And is one of your art teachers a man?’
He was shadow-boxing and so was she. Of course she knew.
‘Mr Standforth joined us at the start of term. He’s from a good family and highly responsible in his dealings with the students.’
‘What age would he be?’
‘I don’t see how that comes into it.’
‘You must have some idea.’
‘Quite young, between twenty-five and thirty, but that’s not an issue.’
‘Was he in school today?’
‘He was.’ She snapped down the lid of the laptop. ‘I saw him myself.’
‘Did you speak?’
‘We passed the time of day, as one does.’
‘Is he here now?’
‘He will have left an hour ago.’ She gripped the arms of her chair and took a deep breath. ‘Superintendent, I don’t seem to have made myself clear. There is no question whatsoever of Mr Standforth being implicated in Melanie’s absence. He is fully aware of the sensitivities of being a male teacher in a girls’ school. Like every new teacher, he went through the usual DBS checking process before we employed him. Aside from that, Melanie herself is one of the most mature students in the school, and the chance of her becoming infatuated with a teacher is so unreal as to be ridiculous.’
‘I hear you, but—’ Diamond said, and was stopped.
Miss Du Barry had cut in with: ‘Thank you. There’s a real danger in any teaching establishment of gossip and rumour spreading like wildfire. I won’t allow unfounded theories to disturb the smooth running of the school. That would be deeply disruptive and mustn’t happen.’
‘I appreciate everything you say, ma’am,’ Diamond said, ‘but I have a job to do as well. We could be dealing with something far more serious than an absent student.’
She tensed. The bigger risk had got home to her at last.
Diamond said, ‘If Melanie hasn’t shown up by tomorrow, we’ll step up the investigation. I’ll come in and have a few words with your Mr Standforth.’
‘I’ve vouched for Mr Standforth’s character. Isn’t that enough?’
He gave her the sort of look she gave her students.
She sighed. ‘However you go about it, there will be consequences.’
‘And while I’m here, I’ll need to speak to some of Melanie’s classmates.’
Her shoulders sagged. ‘Oh dear. We’ll never hear the end of this.’
‘Let’s hope she’s perfectly all right, then.’ He paused, watching her. ‘I was impressed when I met her.’
Miss Du Barry blinked. ‘You met Melanie?’
‘Strangely enough, she came into the police station yesterday.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘She was enquiring about a Miss Constance Gibbon, who used to teach her art.’
‘Melanie was asking you about Miss Gibbon?’ The face turned pale. Almost immediately blotches of red started to appear.
‘A missing person,’ Diamond said. ‘Officially missing, on the missing persons’ index. Not absent, but missing.’
‘There’s no need for sarcasm. Miss Gibbon left the school last term, at the end of July.’
‘And hasn’t been heard of since. She hasn’t been in touch with her family and they reported their concern.’
‘I do know about this,’ the head said in a more measured way, trying to recover her equilibrium. ‘We had someone here asking questions. As far as we’re concerned, Constance Gibbon handed in her notice and left. I don’t see what business it is of Melanie’s.’
‘May I see it?’
‘May you see what?’
‘Her letter of resignation.’
‘There was no letter, I was using a form of speech, that’s all. But I don’t see what business it is of Melanie’s.’
‘If you’re asking me, I’d say it’s a credit to Melanie that she’s troubled about this woman. I gather she wasn’t all that popular.’
‘Popularity isn’t necessarily the hallmark of a good teacher,’ Miss Du Barry said.
‘Were there complaints? I’m wondering why she left.’
‘No complaints I ever heard of.’
‘Melanie said her lessons were boring.’
She gripped the desk and drew herself higher in the chair. ‘I find this profoundly offensive, being asked to respond to student tittle-tattle.’
‘It wasn’t said out of spite. The teacher is on Melanie’s conscience because of the way she was treated.’
‘Superintendent Diamond, I assure you Miss Gibbon was treated in the professional way every teacher is entitled to expect.’
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Diamond said. ‘I’m not criticising you.’
‘I should hope not.’
‘And neither was Melanie. The problem with Miss Gibbon, as I understand it, was in the classroom. You may disagree, but I can’t ignore what Melanie had to say. And now she, too, is... absent.’
‘I think you’d better leave. Now.’
There was nothing to be gained by staying. At the door, he turned. ‘This Mr Standforth. Is he a straight replacement for Miss Gibbon?’
‘He is.’
‘From round here?’
‘He’s a local man, yes, well qualified and with the right experience at this level. We were lucky to get him.’
‘From a good family, you said. Do you know them?’
‘I know of them. The Standforths have lived in Boxgrove for generations and contribute generously to all kinds of good causes. Tom Standforth has a studio that he opens regularly for local artists.’
‘I look forward to meeting him — if it becomes necessary. Thanks for your time, ma’am.’
Back at the hotel, he ordered room service and spent some time on the phone. First he called Hen to make sure she was recovering well. She sounded like her old self, much amused by his account of the headmistress. She’d heard of the Standforth family and confirmed that they were well known locally, although she hadn’t met any of them. ‘Which is probably a recommendation, darling,’ she added. ‘You and I only ever get to meet the baddies.’
He also had a long call to Paloma, who didn’t seem to be missing him at all. Neither did his cat. Paloma had driven past the neighbour’s house and seen Raffles blissfully asleep on a windowsill in a patch of sunlight.
‘I’ll be back as soon as possible,’ he told Paloma. ‘I’m trying my best to speed things up.’
‘Don’t you worry,’ she said. ‘Enjoy the hotel life while you’ve got the opportunity.’
Next morning, about a mile south of Selsey Bill, a small cabin cruiser was chugging through calm water. Aboard were two men in their seventies, friends for half a century, who had rented the boat for a day’s sea-fishing. They didn’t expect to catch much. They never did. The pleasure of these trips was being at sea, away from it all, with a hamper of good food and a bottle or two of wine, while their wives had a shopping expedition to Portsmouth’s Gunwharf Quays. A good arrangement all round.
Jim Bentley, currently at the wheel, unexpectedly said, ‘Something up ahead.’
‘Give it a wide berth, then.’ His friend Norman Hallows was relaxing in the cabin playing Klondike solitaire on his iPhone. ‘It could be a marker buoy.’
‘I don’t think so. It’s black. Low in the water.’
‘Driftwood.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Is it moving? Not a whale, by any chance?’
‘Wrong shape.’
‘Use the glasses.’
There was an interval while Hallows made some moves in the game.