by Sofia Daniel
Nausea rose up my gullet, but I swallowed it down. This was the girl who wouldn’t report Bruce, no matter what he did, and wanted an innocent person punished in his place.
Sebastian cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes. Annoyance flickered through her swollen features, and she sat straighter in her hospital bed. “What do you want?”
“Why did you tell the police Prakash hit you?”
“We know he didn’t,” said Sebastian.
She leaned forward and met his eyes. “How can you be so sure?”
Sebastian swallowed but didn’t reply. Eyes narrowing, I stepped further into the room and walked to her bedside. Was Sebastian losing faith in his friend already, or had Sebastian witnessed something between Ashley and Prakash?
She leaned back onto her pillows, and her swollen lips twisted into a triumphant smirk.
“It’s not my intention to torture you with this, but you’re serving no one by lying that Prakash hurt you.” I pulled out the phone from my pocket, placed it on the over-bed table, and played the footage I had shot of Bruce’s bruised knuckles.
When the camera zoomed into his gloating face, and he said those hateful words that compared Ashley to herpes, tears ran down her mottled cheeks. “Bruce didn’t do it.”
“Why are you protecting him after what he did?” I murmured.
“He wouldn’t hurt me.” Ashley turned her head to the window. Since this side of the building overlooked the hospital courtyard, the only view she got was more of the redbrick building.
I took the phone away and lowered myself into the armchair next to her bed.
“Ashley,” Leopold snapped. “We all saw you crawling naked through the snow, dressed like an S and M pig. And we know what he got the other boys to do to you beforehand. Bruce is capable of that level of violence and more.”
“Get out,” she whispered.
“Not until you tell the truth.” Leopold planted his feet on the linoleum.
“What makes you think your friend is so innocent?” Whirling back at him, she clutched the railings of her bed. “I still have a load of evidence that says he killed Corrine Gibbons and disguised her death as a suicide.”
“You don’t.” I drummed my fingers on the chair’s wooden arms. It was time to break her illusion of having the upper hand. Whatever games she wanted to play with us wouldn’t work.
“What?” she twisted around and fixed me with a glower that looked even more malevolent with her swollen features.
“It was under your mattress protector at home.” I slipped the smartphone in my pocket.
“You searched my room?” she screeched.
“You bugged Kash’s,” said Sebastian.
“That wasn’t me.”
“Sure, it wasn’t,” drawled Leopold.
“He’s going to rot in jail.” Her eyes roved my face as though examining my expression for weakness. “And I’m going to relish taking everything from you, just like you took it from me.”
Sebastian and Leopold both turned to me with quizzical expressions. I gave them a blank look. How could I explain to Sebastian, who had come from a loving family that Ashley’s sibling rivalry had twisted into something malignant? Even Leopold’s cold-hearted mother, who was motivated by financial gain, hadn’t tried to maim or humiliate him.
Ashley was a different kind of family strife. A riddle wrapped up in a pile of festering toilet paper.
“What do you want? Money?” asked Sebastian.
Ashley turned to him. “What?”
“Days ago, you stormed Kash’s room, demanding a hundred and fifty thousand pounds. You ran away before we could tell you to fuck off. Are you lying to the police to make sure you get your money?”
Ashley’s gaze dropped to the smartphone in Leopold’s hand.
“Wow,” she said in a theatrical voice. “A girl gets beaten half to death by Prakash Kashaayah, and his rich friends bribe me to drop the charges. He’s a rapist, a murderer, and now he’s striking again. You three are despicable for wanting to buy me off.”
I ground my teeth. She probably said that for the benefit of any recording equipment. “No one’s trying to bribe you, but this is the second time you’ve protected Bruce after he and his friends have assaulted you. We just want you to tell the truth, so he doesn’t hurt you or anyone else.”
The look of hatred she shot me could have sliced me in half. “You’re not nearly as clever as you want people to believe. Fuck off, and never come back.”
I shot out of my seat. “You’re always looking for shortcuts in life. One day, it’s going to get you killed.”
She clutched her chest, eyes swiveling to Leopold’s smartphone. “Are you threatening me?”
“You’re already a cautionary tale,” I walked across the room, not casting her a second glance. “I don’t want your story to end in tragedy.”
“Fat, judgmental bitch!” she screeched. “Who do you think you are?”
For someone severely injured and probably on pain medication that made her drowsy, Ashley certainly shouted up a storm. I blocked out the rest of her rants and stepped out into the hallway. A nurse walked around from the desk and headed toward us. I didn’t bother to stop to explain that Ashley was having a tantrum.
“Were you recording her?” asked Sebastian.
Leopold nodded. “A fat lot of good that did.”
“She’s trying to make us sweat.” I shook my head. That girl seemed to twist every misfortune she suffered into an opportunity to snipe at my friends and me.
When we reached the police station, the receptionist narrowed her eyes, probably remembering us from the day before. Her gaze ran up and down Leopold and Sebastian’s bodies that looked far too fit and muscular for a green school uniform.
Before any of us could speak, she said, “Your friend has been charged with grievous bodily harm and will be held in remand until a court hearing.”
“Fuck,” snarled Sebastian.
All the air left my lungs in an outward breath. “Why?”
Leopold wrapped a hand around my arm and pulled me away. “They did this last year when someone sent an anonymous tip that he planned on absconding to India. Let Seb’s legal guy take care of things.”
I barely heard the rest of the receptionist’s words through the fog of pain. Didn’t these people conduct forensic exams anymore? If they checked Ashley for Prakash’s DNA, they would find him innocent. As we stepped out of the door, the older woman mentioned Prakash being moved to a juvenile facility because he might flee to India to evade justice.
Leopold and I walked out of the police station wrapped up in each other. I rested my head on his shoulder. How could one vindictive little liar cause so much mayhem to an innocent person?
Chapter 4
Term ended, and all the students left for the Easter break. Some stayed behind, like Cormac, who had lived in foster care before the academy. We also stayed a few extra days to catch the headmistress, who seemed to be avoiding us. I guessed it was because she didn’t want to explain why she hadn’t offered the academy as a place for Prakash to stay while he was awaiting trial.
One day, Leopold charmed her receptionist into letting us wait for her in the staff common room, a vast, modern space with walls that smelled of stale coffee and was covered in notice boards and drawers down one side. Along the back were laptop stations, presumably for those members of staff who didn’t have their own computers.
Opposite the drawers was a worktop with a built-in sink and cupboards that reminded me of the set up in the scholars’ common room. Apparently, Mrs. Benazir only reserved the snazzy vending machines for paying customers.
We sat in a row of cushioned seats facing the door and waited.
“Not even old Benazir would let one of her students languish in a detention center,” muttered Leopold.
I chewed my lip. “The police would have informed her of the developments. She probably doesn’t care.”
The door opened, and Mrs. Benazir stepped
into the room. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath through her nostrils. “What do you three want?”
“Why did the police send Prakash to a juvenile detention center?” I pulled myself to my feet. “Why wasn’t he allowed to stay here?
She pinched the bridge of her nose and strode across the room, her tweed suit rustling with each step. “Without a deputy head, I’m being pulled in all directions.”
I bristled at the unsubtle jibe about my getting Miss Claymore fired. While the former deputy headmistress had taken on the majority of Mrs. Benazir’s work, she had also blown off steam by assaulting Sebastian in his bedroom.
Holding back a retort, I clamped my lips together and exhaled a hot breath through my nostrils. Prakash was the priority, not petty arguments.
Mrs. Benazir pulled a mug from the cupboard and helped herself to the coffee stewing in the machine. She walked to the only leather armchair in the room, one of those plush recliners with its own remote control, and sat.
“He’s innocent.” I followed after her. “And if you’re worried about him coming into contact with Ashley, she isn’t even a student.”
Her head snapped up. “Are you saying that students should be free to assault the domestic staff?”
“Of course not,” I snapped. “But the real attacker is still on the grounds where he or she can hurt their next victim. I’ve even got footage that shows the bruises on their fists.”
She raised her palm as though she was stopping traffic. “That’s a matter for the police.”
I swallowed hard, holding back a bellyful of bile. Plausible deniability. That’s what she wanted. If she was ignorant of the attacker and he struck again, she could blame the police for not catching the right person.
“It’s Bruce Wilmington,” I blurted. “And I’ve already passed on the evidence to a lawyer, who will give it to the police.”
The headmistress stiffened. “The captain of the football team would—”
“Ashley was sleeping with him and the Riley twins. They assaulted and humiliated her last term in front of everyone looking out of the common room windows, but she refused to report it to the police.”
She lowered her coffee mug and finally made eye contact. “Why would he attack her again?”
“Ashley used her job as a maid to enter people’s rooms and rifle through their possessions. She probably blackmailed him.”
Leopold rubbed the back of his neck. “Mother will be shocked to discover you gave a girl with a grudge against the school free access to the entire campus. She tampered with Willow’s medication, making her feel tired and nauseous for weeks.”
“I ended up in the hospital.” I let my gaze bore into hers, hoping to convey the message that she couldn’t trust Ashley’s claims about Prakash. “The toxicology report showed that I had ingested antidepressants and beta-blockers, neither of which I’d ever been prescribed.”
Her brows drew together as though she had come to a realization. Was the woman finally believing in Prakash’s innocense—
Realization hit me like a thunderbolt. Mrs. Benazir had fainted in her office, just as I had collapsed on Leopold in the cottage. What if Ashley had also poisoned Mrs. Benazir with the same drugs?
The headmistress pursed her lips. “I’ll discuss the matter with the Board of Governors.”
“But—”
“You will not hurry me,” the older woman shot out of her seat and walked to the door. “Mr. Kashaayah will either remain in custody or in alternative accommodations until the board approves his return.”
“He doesn’t have any family in England,” Sebastian murmured, sounding lost.
Mrs. Benazir walked across the staff room and opened the door. “You’re a resourceful girl. I’m sure that between you, Mr. Garraway, and Mr. Brunswick, you’ll find a solution that both assists Mr. Kashaayah and satisfies parents worrying about the welfare of their daughters.”
She stepped back, letting the door clicked shut, and my shoulders sagged with defeat. “She only cares about covering her back.”
Sebastian pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and held it to his ear. After a few moments, he gave a sharp nod and slipped it back into his pocket.
“Any news?” asked Leopold.
“Mr. Pinkerton just called,” said Sebastian. “He’s the lawyer who’s taken over Kash’s case from the duty solicitor.”
Placing a hand over my flip-flopping chest, I asked, “Did he say anything about getting him released?”
“He’s offered up the club as alternative accommodation, but he’s also working on discrediting Ashley as a witness.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “How’s he going to do that?”
“Leave it with Pinkerton,” said Sebastian. “He’s one of the best criminal lawyers in the north of England.”
“Now might be a good time to put pressure on her to change her mind,” said Leopold.
“Can you drive us down tonight?” I asked.
He nodded. “Mr. Pinkerton wants to meet us at the club in the afternoon. We can visit Ashley in the hospital afterward.”
Mr. Pinkerton waited for us in one of the club’s meeting rooms. This one was about the size of the dining room at home, but with six chairs arranged around an elegant, mahogany table. A painting of Prince William Augustus, Duke of Cumberland, hung at the back of the small room, making me wonder if he used to own the club.
The lawyer was a tall, steel-haired man in his fifties, with kind, cornflower-blue eyes that contrasted with his undertaker-style suit.
Sebastian made the introductions, and we took our seats. A waiter brought in coffee in a tall, silver pot with matching jugs of milk, cream, and two bowls containing brown and white sugar cubes.
After the waiter served the drinks, he brought in a plate of wafer-thin cookies that looked like Belgian waffles and left.
Mr. Pinkerton raised his brows. “I apologize for the delay in getting back to you, but my assistants needed to analyze a mass of paperwork.”
I leaned forward on my seat and tried to imagine what kind of documentation they would need. Ashley’s statement, the doctor’s reports, a few witness statements that mostly said they saw Prakash being led away by the police?
“What do you mean?” asked Sebastian.
“Your friend is in more trouble than a prosecution for grievous bodily harm.”
My breathing stopped for several seconds before my lungs started working again. All I could blurt out was, “Why?”
The lawyer opened a leather version of the manilla folders Miss Claymore used and leafed through the papers. “They have reopened a suicide case, which they now believe to be murder.”
“Corrine Gibbons,” I whispered.
Mr. Pinkerton’s head snapped up. “Did you know the girl?”
“I only joined Brittas Academy in September, but I know her twin brother. He mentioned that the police were looking into her death, but I didn’t think they would hold Prakash back for that purpose until now.”
“Can you get him out on bail?” asked Leopold.
“A few important witnesses have come forward, saying that Mr. Kashaayah is a risk to the school children.”
“Who?” If it was Mrs. Benazir, I would storm down to her office and tell the hypocritical shit what I thought of her double-dealing tactics.
He leafed through the papers again. “Wendy Claymore, the former deputy headmistress cited an incident where Mr. Kashaayah attacked other students.”
Leopold threw up his hands. “We only beat up those guys because they groped Willow, and Claymore is Sebastian’s ex.”
The lawyer’s face went slack, and all the color drained from his cheeks. “I beg your pardon?”
Sebastian bowed his head. “We were intimate.”
“That’s an understatement!” Leopold curled his fingers into fists. “The woman used to sneak into his room and—”
“What do I have to do to get her statement discredited?” Sebastian raised his voice, drownin
g out Leopold’s.
I chewed my lip. My mind conjured up an image of a Medusa-like banshee writhing atop Sebastian’s struggling, muscular body. She was clad in a lace negligée that revealed every contour of her athletic form. Ugh. I shook the image out of my head. It was probably my imagination and not a real memory. The only time I’d ever seen Miss Claymore not wearing her regular black pantsuit, she’d been wearing a long, fleece dressing gown.
“Well, this…” The lawyer coughed into his left hand. “I may be able to mention her sexual relationship with you to cast doubt on her statement. But I have to ask, did you ever make a complaint?”
Sebastian told the lawyer about the report he had made to the police.
Mr. Pinkerton scribbled down some notes. “I’ll see what I can do. The police rejected the club as accommodation for Mr. Kashaayah, and it might be difficult to have him released into a boarding school of children as young as eleven.”
“What else can we do to help things along?” I asked.
“Character references might help.” The lawyer raised his brow. “Perhaps from a member of staff without sexual-related motives.”
“Can we visit him?”
“It’s doubtful since he hasn’t yet been convicted, but I can get in touch with the local youth offending team to see if they will allow a supervised visit.”
When we arrived at the hospital, the duty nurse told us that Ashley had discharged herself against medical advice. We walked back to the parking lot and sat in the jeep. There was no point in starting the engine without working out where she had gone.
Sebastian twisted in his seat. “Do you think she’s returned to your family cottage to check on her stash?”
I rested my elbow on the armrest in the middle of the back seat. “It’s doubtful that she’d stay there. Right now, she’d be in too much pain to take care of herself, and if she wasn’t properly discharged, she might not have the required medication.”