Silent Night

by Nell Pattison

  Leon’s eyes were drawn by the light from the head teacher’s room as he walked past, and he paused for a moment. Mr Wilkinson was in there, pacing across the room, and Miss Marcek was sitting looking at something on the computer. As Leon watched, the head ran his hands through his hair, then signed something that Leon didn’t catch.

  Mr Wilkinson went over to the computer and pointed to the screen, then grabbed the mouse and brought something else up.

  Don’t worry about it, Miss Marcek signed. It’s obviously a mistake. I’ll sort it out. You need to get ready for the trip.

  Yes, you’re right. It’s probably nothing.

  The head turned back towards the window and Leon hurried away, not wanting to be caught snooping. He wondered what they’d been talking about – probably something boring like the school budget. His phone buzzed and he felt a frisson of excitement when he realised who it was – not long now, and they’d see each other face to face.

  Chapter 6

  Sunday 25th November

  There was no more snow overnight, and by the time I walked back to my car in the morning the roads were much clearer. My route into Scunthorpe was quiet at this time on a Sunday morning. There were often a couple of walkers parked up at Twigmoor Woods early on, but the weather had kept them away for once. As I pulled out onto Mortal Ash there were some lorries pulling into the steelworks, but that route wouldn’t be too busy until just before Morrisons opened. It was unusual for me to be up and out so early on a Sunday, but they wanted me at the police station by nine.

  Singh passed me a coffee when I met him in the station lobby. He’d obviously stopped off for a proper one on his way in rather than offering me something murky from the station drinks machine.

  ‘Marry me,’ I mumbled.

  He laughed. ‘I think you should meet my family first.’

  I laughed in return before taking a sip of the coffee, then the laugh turned into a yawn. Yesterday had been a long day, and I had lain awake until the early hours of the morning, thinking. Eventually I’d fallen asleep around three, but the four hours of sleep I’d managed to get weren’t anywhere near enough.

  ‘What’s happening this morning?’ I asked as he led me upstairs.

  ‘First, we need to coordinate the team for the case.’

  ‘You’re treating it as one case, then?’

  ‘Yes, one case with two branches. One murder, one missing teenager. Currently no solid evidence to say how they’re linked, but the connection between them is too strong to ignore.’

  We turned down a long corridor, passing a couple of offices and a conference room.

  ‘How on earth did you talk Forest into having me at this meeting?’ I asked. The DI was far from being my biggest fan, and back in February she’d been quite glad to see the back of me once the case was over.

  ‘I reminded her that some of the officers would need advising on the most appropriate way to interview deaf people, and that you could provide that,’ he said, not looking at me.

  ‘Oh, I’m giving deaf awareness training? Couldn’t you have asked me about that yesterday, rather than springing it on me now?’ I complained, my frustration evident in my voice.

  He gave me an apologetic look. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right, I should have asked you about it.’

  I looked at him for a moment before nodding, accepting his apology. ‘I don’t mind doing things like that, but next time tell me in advance, okay?’

  ‘Promise.’

  He pushed open the door and we walked into a large room I’d never been in before. Several people were already seated, both detectives in plain clothes and uniformed officers. DI Forest was standing at the front of the room, and we headed towards her.

  ‘Morning,’ she said, with a nod in my direction. ‘We’re just waiting for a couple of other people then we’ll get going.’

  Singh pointed me to a chair at the end of the front row and I sat down, leaning on the wall and trying to shrink into it. I sat there for a few minutes, looking at my phone, until Forest called the room to order.

  ‘Right, I want to make this a reasonably quick one. We have a complex case, with two very different aspects to it. A young man called Leon Ormerod went missing from a school trip to Normanby Hall, some time between ten thirty on Friday night, when he was last seen, and seven thirty on Saturday morning, when the staff found his bed empty. Leon is fifteen, and profoundly deaf. He wears hearing aids and attends Lincoln School for the Deaf, where he is in care.’

  Forest indicated a board behind her, which had a photo of Leon along with the details she’d just given out. Leon looked so small, and I felt a stab of worry for him. Was he running from something? Or had he been taken? I couldn’t bring myself to consider the possibility that he’d killed his teacher.

  ‘At the moment we don’t know if Leon left Normanby Park or not, and if he did whether he left of his own accord or was abducted. Someone had broken into the cricket pavilion towards the south end of the estate, where we found an item of clothing that a staff member identified as Leon’s. He must have sheltered in there for a short time, but there was no sign of him by the time we searched the building. We’ve been looking through the CCTV covering the park gates, but there are other routes in and out of the park.’

  ‘We used to climb over the wall as kids.’ A PC near the back had interrupted and Forest glared at him for a moment before nodding.

  ‘Precisely: there are many points along the park boundary that aren’t covered by CCTV, and Leon could have easily left without being caught on camera. The park is large, however, and with the snow we can’t be certain he left until we’ve searched every part of the grounds. The search of the park was abandoned yesterday afternoon when the snowfall and light became too bad, but will continue today. Some of you will also be speaking to people in the local area to find out if anyone might have seen Leon.’

  The DI glanced around the room to make sure she still had everyone’s attention. ‘Whilst searching for Leon, the body of Steve Wilkinson was found. Mr Wilkinson was the head teacher of Leon’s school and was one of the staff supervising the trip. When it was discovered that Leon was missing, Mr Wilkinson went into the grounds to search for him at around eight yesterday morning, and nobody has reported seeing him since then until his body was found.

  ‘There was no sign of a struggle in the cabin, which suggests that Leon packed his things and walked out of there, so we need to find out if he did this voluntarily or was lured out. The cricket pavilion where he had been hiding has a direct view of where the head teacher’s body was found. At this point in time we do not know if Leon witnessed the murder and then ran, or if he was abducted by his teacher’s killer. It’s also possible that he murdered Steve Wilkinson himself. For now, we’re going to work on the basis that these two incidents are connected.’

  Forest looked around at the assembled officers. ‘Due to the fact that Leon is extremely vulnerable, the search for him has to be our top priority. So far we haven’t received any credible information as to where he might be. There are appeals going out on social media, and we’re also going to be looking at CCTV footage from local transport companies. There are two different bus companies with routes that run near the park. No cars were permitted onto the estate yesterday, except for ours, so we’ll also be looking for any CCTV footage of the surrounding roads, because if someone took Leon in a vehicle they won’t have left by the main entrance.

  ‘DS Singh will be liaising with the team involved in the search for Leon, and he and I will be conducting interviews at the school. Leon’s classmates might be able to give us some insight into his state of mind, or indicate where he might go if he were scared or in trouble.’

  A hand was raised at the back of the room, and Forest nodded at the man in question.

  ‘What about his phone and social media?’

  ‘We’ve put in a request to Leon’s network provider for access to his text and video call history. Social media will take a little longer. We need to
establish which apps and social networks he was using and then submit individual requests for access.

  ‘I will be joining DS Singh at the school later today,’ Forest continued, looking at the assembled officers. ‘The rest of you will be divided up – some of you will be continuing the search, and others will be following up any reported sightings, anything that comes in from the social media appeal or by phone.

  ‘The dead man, Steve Wilkinson, lived in Derbyshire. Derbyshire police have informed his next of kin, a sister, of his death, and we’ll be putting out a statement later today. It’s only a matter of time before the media jumps on this and starts spouting theories, so we need to try and keep a tight rein on the information that we’re releasing. Is that clear?’

  A chorus of yesses came from across the room. I dreaded to think what Forest would do to any officer she caught leaking information to the press, or even just being a bit lax with what they told their friends down the pub.

  ‘Back to our murder victim.’ Forest pointed to a board next to the one with Leon’s information on. ‘Steve Wilkinson had been head teacher of the Lincoln School for the Deaf since September. At first glance it appears he was stabbed in the neck, but the post-mortem will tell us more. There was a penknife lying nearby, covered in blood, so I think we can safely assume it was the murder weapon, but we’ll wait for forensics to confirm. DS Singh and I will speak to the deputy head and find out more about Steve Wilkinson’s professional and personal life. We’ll also look into his work history and speak to his previous employer.’

  A uniformed officer raised his hand, and Forest nodded at him.

  ‘What about his friends and family? Will we be interviewing them?’ he asked.

  ‘He was new to the area, and as far as we can gather didn’t know anyone in North Lincolnshire,’ Forest replied. ‘As the murder occurred on a school trip, we’re going to focus our investigations on the school for the time being. Of course, if any evidence turns up to point us elsewhere, we’ll follow it.’

  At this point Forest turned to me. ‘Our British Sign Language interpreter will be Paige Northwood. DS Singh and I will be conducting interviews at the school to begin with, but there may be occasions during the course of this investigation when the rest of you will need to interview a deaf person. Whilst you’ve all received the general training on working with people with disabilities and speakers of other languages, I thought it best if Paige addressed all of you now to try and avoid any issues in the interview process.’

  With that, she stepped aside and held out a hand, offering me the floor. I glared at Singh as I stood up, then plastered a professional smile onto my face.

  ‘Morning. There are several deaf staff at the school, and of course the other students are deaf, so there are some points you need to be aware of. Firstly, not all deaf people communicate in the same way. Some speak, and don’t use any sign language, making use of either hearing aids or cochlear implants. Some don’t use any aids at all and rely completely on BSL. But many will use a combination of the two. Please don’t make any assumptions – at the start of each interview, check how the deaf person would like to communicate. It might be that they’re happy to speak their answers to you, but would prefer me to sign what you’re saying to be certain they’ve understood. They might prefer to sign their answers, in which case I’ll speak for them. Or they might not want an interpreter at all. Making assumptions can cause offence, which can then affect how the person concerned cooperates with you.’

  I saw Forest nodding out of the corner of my eye, and felt my confidence increase slightly. ‘When you work with spoken language interpreters, you’ll often have to wait for them to interpret what you’ve said after you’ve finished a question, but with BSL I can interpret at the same time. However, I still require time to process what you’ve said and interpret it, so there might be times when I ask you to slow down, pause, or repeat something for clarity. As always, when working with an interpreter, please address the person you’re interviewing, not me. I’m not the one answering the questions. The deaf person might only look at me when you’re speaking, or they might choose to look between us, using your lip patterns, facial expression and body language to support their understanding.’

  Someone at the back put their hand up, and I nodded at her, not expecting questions.

  ‘While you’re here, can you teach us some basic signs?’

  Forest answered before I got a chance to. ‘I’m happy to put in a request to those on high for some BSL classes, but while Paige is here we’re paying her to facilitate our interviews, not teach you the alphabet.’

  A snigger passed around the room, but everyone soon went silent again. I couldn’t think of anything else relevant to say, so I stepped back and let Forest take over again.

  ‘Right, if that’s everything, we’d better get on and do our jobs. If you come across anything you believe to be relevant to the case, please pass it directly to DS Singh.’

  There was a sudden noise as several chairs scraped back and everyone moved to get on with the tasks they’d been assigned. I waited until Singh had finished speaking to Forest, then he beckoned to me to join them.

  ‘We’re going to the school now,’ he explained. ‘We need to interview the staff who knew Steve and Leon, as well as all the students who were on the trip. One of them knows more than they’re letting on about Leon’s disappearance, and Steve’s death.’

  Chapter 7

  It took me a little longer to get to the school than I’d hoped, not because of the snow, but because with thoughts of Mike and the bad memories he brought with him swirling around in my mind I missed the turning. By the time I pulled into the drive, I was annoyed and frustrated.

  The main building of Lincoln School for the Deaf was an old house, with a couple of purpose-built annexes off to one side, and the residence building out the back. I couldn’t see anyone in the car park, so I walked towards the main entrance, looking around me as I went. Someone had cleared a path to the front door and put grit down, though it looked as if the snow hadn’t fallen as heavily here as it had in the park.

  The main building had seen better days, although one of the newer blocks must have been built since Anna was a pupil. I wondered how many they had on roll – since the change in inclusion policies and the development of better assistive technologies, most deaf children now went to mainstream schools. Many schools for the deaf had closed, and those that had remained open often had to find ways to diversify in order to make them more attractive to a wider variety of students. Some opened up their doors to students with autism and communication difficulties, who benefited from the use of sign language to help them access the curriculum and express themselves. Others, like Lincoln, registered as children’s homes, so deaf children in the care system could have a consistent supportive environment and social services didn’t need to worry about finding foster carers who could sign. I had sometimes been involved in meetings when deaf families were looking at different school options for their children, and I knew that the schools for the deaf weren’t above trying to tempt students away from their local authority schools.

  I entered the house by the large, imposing front door, putting my shoulder to it when it stuck slightly. There was nobody in the entrance hall when I stepped inside, so I looked around to try and figure out where Singh and Forest might be. The door marked ‘Head Teacher’ was closed, and the sign conjured an image in my mind of Steve’s body lying in the snow, making me shudder. Next to his office was an open door so I pushed it further open and poked my head around it. Inside were Singh, Forest and Liz Marcek; the DI and the deputy head were sitting on comfy chairs, which were pulled up to a small table by the window. On the adjacent wall was a desk, which Singh was leaning against.

  When Singh saw me, he looked relieved, and I apologised for taking so long to arrive.

  Can we start now? Liz Marcek asked impatiently. I noticed to my surprise that she was wearing a well-cut suit. I suppose I had expected a tea
cher at a residential school to dress down over the weekend, but perhaps she was putting on a professional face for the police. Her make-up was skilfully applied, but it didn’t quite hide the fact that she hadn’t slept well the previous night, if at all.

  Is there any news about Leon? she asked as soon as I’d taken off my coat and sat down opposite her.

  ‘Sorry, nothing yet,’ Singh replied.

  Liz shook her head slowly. I was hoping he might have turned up overnight.

  ‘We’d like to speak to any of the staff who are in today,’ Forest explained, mostly keeping her eyes on Liz but glancing around the room as well.

  A few have come in, Liz said, though not many. I’ll make a list and you can decide who you want to see and when. I’ll make the meeting room available for you.

  ‘Could you let us know who will require signing?’ Singh asked. ‘Then we can work out times with Paige.’

  Of course. Liz crossed over to her desk, took a pen and paper and made a list.

  ‘Thanks,’ Singh said, taking it from her. ‘We’d like to speak to you first, if that’s okay?’

  I assumed as much, she said, settling herself into one of the chairs. I have a lot to do, parents to contact, but I’ll tell you what I can.

  Pushing away from the desk, Singh took the chair next to me.

  ‘Have you told the students about Steve Wilkinson’s death?’

  She grimaced. Not yet. I didn’t think it was appropriate last night, and I haven’t managed to bring myself to tell them. I’ll do it once we’ve finished here, though. They need to know what’s happened. That’s unless Mike has already told them, she added, a sour look twisting her face.

  ‘What is Mr Lowther’s role here?’ Singh asked.

  He’s one of our pastoral staff. They live in, and have responsibility for the students in residence overnight and at weekends. The other staff have the weekend off, as we weren’t expecting to be here, so Sasha offered to stay with the students last night.