Alice Teale is Missing

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Alice Teale is Missing Page 31

by H. A. Linskey


  Morgan didn’t kill Alice. He had nothing to do with her death and he bridled at the suggestion, then he kicked back, hard. ‘You think you have a case against me?’ he asked, as if Beth and Black were crazy. ‘Then prove it. Prove that I murdered Alice Teale. All you’ve got is the word of one mixed-up disgruntled young girl and a teacher with questionable morals who is desperate to shift attention away from himself. That blurred photograph proves nothing. Alice had a fall and bashed her face, or so you tell me, then someone strangled her. That is a tragedy, but I certainly wasn’t the culprit and you have no evidence against me.’

  ‘We’ll find tiny traces of blood on the ground by your car,’ said Beth, ‘even if you can’t see them.’

  ‘Which might possibly prove she fell there, but not that I pushed her.’

  ‘No, you didn’t,’ admitted Black. ‘Keech did, and he admits that. He even thought he had killed her, though he claims it was an accident.’

  Black could see in Morgan’s eyes that he wanted to contradict that, but how could he say it wasn’t an accident when he wasn’t supposed to know what had happened? Instead, he gave Black a sour look and let him continue.

  ‘Keech says he thought Alice was dead when you put her in the boot of your car, but he didn’t strangle her. You did, and he will testify that you did.’

  ‘Of course he will, when he is the guilty party. He’ll do anything to save his neck, but I’ll deny everything. I wonder who will be believed.’

  ‘We’ve seized your car,’ said Black, and the headteacher did look momentarily troubled. ‘He said Alice’s body was put into your boot and you drove her away from the school. I know you had it valeted, but if any fibres remain, we’ll find them. All it will take is a single hair from that poor girl’s head, a tiny trace of blood from her broken face, and we’ve got you.’

  ‘All that will prove is that he must have stolen my car.’

  ‘Without you noticing? How long would he have needed it, to take her body from the school, drive out there, ditch her and get back to you?’

  ‘I work very late. Everyone knows that. I wouldn’t even have noticed if he had taken it for a while.’

  ‘And the keys? How would he get those?’

  ‘I have a tendency to leave them lying around,’ he said airily, ‘but I won’t do that again. Go on,’ the headteacher said. ‘Charge me with murder and see how quickly the case collapses.’

  ‘We have photographs of you watching while a young girl is abused in front of you.’

  The headteacher fell silent then and folded his arms. It was time for his solicitor to earn his fees. ‘It might have looked like that to you, Detective Sergeant, at first glance, but the viewpoint of the person who took those photographs is different from the one Mr Morgan had. His view of the incident was partially obstructed by a bookcase.’

  ‘What?’ Black was astonished at the downright nerve of the lie.

  ‘It’s true. Looking up at an angle, from his desk and a few yards –’

  ‘It was about four feet away,’ Black interrupted, but the solicitor continued unabated.

  ‘All he could actually see was the girl’s head and shoulders and Mr Keech standing directly behind her. He couldn’t possibly see where the man’s hands were.’

  ‘No one will believe that.’

  ‘I think a jury will,’ said the solicitor, ‘if you are foolish enough to pursue a prosecution against my client on such flimsy evidence.’

  ‘Flimsy evidence! He was right there in the room!’

  ‘And would have intervened if he had realized what Mr Keech was doing, but there is no evidence of that and the girl didn’t indicate she was in any kind of distress.’

  ‘Because they had groomed her.’

  ‘Mr Keech possibly had, but not my client,’ the solicitor explained in a reasonable tone, ‘who has an entirely unblemished reputation and is a pillar of the community.’

  ‘Yes, he is, isn’t he? What perfect cover. So Keech abused her, right in front of his own headteacher, with only a low shelf full of books to hide what he was doing? Why would he do that?’

  ‘Why would he do any of it at all? I think it’s quite clear that Mr Keech is a very disturbed individual who is worthy of your full attention. Who knows what bizarre motive he had for this blatant act? Perhaps it gave him some form of twisted thrill.’ And the solicitor’s voice softened at that, as if he were saddened by the depravity of the world.

  Black was incensed. They had concocted a ridiculous defence that would surely fall apart in court, but in that instant, Black’s spirits slumped because he suddenly realized the truth. Morgan was right. The head would use his impeccable record and fake outrage, along with the absurd notion that his view was obstructed, to say that Keech was able to get an extra thrill from abusing a girl in his office right in front of him while he was none the wiser. Keech had admitted pushing the girl from the roof, albeit accidentally. Was it too much of a stretch to think he might have finished her off and even taken the head’s car to dispose of her body? The headteacher’s lawyer would do the rest, destroying Keech’s credibility along the way.

  Beth also knew how court cases could go and how malleable a jury might be in the hands of the right barrister, and she was reaching the same conclusion as Black. This bastard might get off. He probably would, in fact, if Keech could be painted as the lone villain.

  Black sighed. ‘You could be right. We might not be able to charge your client with murder on the basis of this evidence alone. It’s circumstantial and a jury might think Keech is the real killer, trying to deflect blame on to him.’

  ‘At last,’ said Morgan, and it seemed as if relief had flooded through him, ‘you display a semblance of common sense. Can I go now?’ The arrogance of the man and his plain disregard for the rules, which he clearly thought did not apply to him, was obvious.

  ‘No,’ said Black. ‘Mr Morgan, I am arresting you on suspicion of the prevention of the lawful and decent burial of a dead body and the disposal of a corpse with intent to obstruct or prevent a coroner’s inquest.’

  ‘What?’ he blustered. ‘What new rubbish is this?’

  ‘I haven’t finished. I am also arresting you on suspicion of perverting the course of justice. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ the solicitor demanded. ‘You have as much chance of this stacking up as you do a murder charge. Your case will collapse.’

  ‘It might, but I don’t think it will. I’m guessing there will be traces of Alice Teale in the boot of your client’s car and that this will be enough for the charges to come to court. I’ll still have a possible murder charge, held in abeyance, should new evidence of wrongdoing emerge.’

  ‘But you have no new evidence,’ protested the solicitor.

  ‘Not at the moment, we don’t,’ admitted Black, ‘but I think that is about to change,’ and Beth wondered what he was going to do that could possibly uncover some. He looked Morgan in the eye. ‘You said all we had was the word of one damaged girl who no one will ever believe, but she’s not the only one you and Keech have abused, is she?’ The head locked eyes with Black but refused to answer. ‘Now that I have placed you under arrest, journalists will be allowed to write about it, and that’s when things will get really interesting. They will tell the whole country that the headteacher of Collemby School and one of his senior teachers have been arrested on suspicion of the illegal disposal of Alice Teale’s body. A story like that will be picked up and run by every newspaper, radio station and TV news network in the country. Headteachers don’t usually do that sort of thing, so you are about to become very famous indeed.’

  ‘I thought that, in this country, we worked on the presumption of innocence until proven guilty,’ said the head tersely, but Beth could tell he was very worried now.

  ‘We do,’ agreed Black, ‘
but we also have a free press which is allowed to publish details of an arrest. They may even be allowed to add that you are being questioned on suspicion of murder, but I’m sure they’ll check with their lawyers first.’

  ‘What will any of that achieve, apart from the ruination of this school?’

  ‘You are the ruination of this school,’ Beth told him, ‘and you were from the day you walked into it. We’re just alerting people to the threat you pose.’

  ‘Then I shall pursue a case for wrongful arrest,’ said the solicitor, but Black ignored him.

  ‘Do you know why the police are usually happy to let journalists report when people are arrested and charged?’ asked Black. ‘When other victims read about something like this, they are far more likely to come forward.’ He leaned forward in his chair. ‘Nothing breaks down a wall of silence like an arrest. That’s when people start to say, “He did it to me as well,” because they know they might finally be believed. You won’t be the first or the last man to be brought down by multiple accusations. How many victims have there been over the years? Remember that girl you silenced. We already have two victims who can testify that Keech abused them and one who claims you did. I don’t think it will be all that hard to find others. You’ve been doing this for a long time, haven’t you?’

  Morgan lowered his head then. He looked as if his last hope of getting off the hook was gone. ‘I have nothing else to say to you.’ His voice cracked when he said that.

  ‘Save it for the judge, then,’ said Black, ‘and the jury. You’d better hope they believe your story, or it’s going to be life in prison for both you and Keech.’

  He didn’t protest. He didn’t even lift his head or make any sound at all. He just stared at the table in front of him with a shocked expression on his face.

  ‘Nothing to say all of a sudden?’ Black chided. ‘That’s because you’re finished, and you know it.’

  53

  They stood in the town square for a moment, waiting for a lorry to finish backing out of the pub after delivering kegs of beer. They had no choice because their route out of Collemby was blocked by its manoeuvring.

  ‘He’s making a pig’s ear of that,’ said Black as he watched the driver moving the lorry back and forth, over and over, with tiny alterations in the angle of his reversal. Each time, he had to admit defeat and try again. It wouldn’t have mattered if it were not for the fact he was blocking the street and the exit to the car park. They were as trapped as he was.

  A few days had passed since Black had arrested the headteacher. The response to their leak of Morgan’s arrest had been a media frenzy. That afternoon, they got their first call from someone claiming to be an earlier victim of Morgan and Keech. They received a steady stream of further reports then, until the number of those willing to come forward to report one or other of the men reached a dozen.

  They used the weight of this many potential victims to secure a warrant to search their houses. It took a while but, hidden in the rafters of Morgan’s garage, they found a brown, leather-bound journal with Alice Teale’s name written on every page. Beth read the whole thing and finally learned the full truth of Alice Teale’s world. When he heard that they had found it, Morgan finally admitted his involvement in her death but stated he would plead guilty only to manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility. Black’s response was to charge the man with murder.

  ‘He knows he’s fucked,’ Black told Beth, ‘and now he’s clutching at straws. We have the body, proof of traces of Alice in the boot of his car, a dozen other victims, emboldened by his arrest, willing to testify against him, and that’s made even Jenny see him for what he is. Finally, we have the journal, which he has been using to put us off the scent ever since Alice went missing, selectively sending us pages that always pushed us in the wrong direction. He’s even admitted he strangled her. I can’t see any judge or jury in the world believing he had somehow lost his mind at that point. Morgan will die in prison.’

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ said Beth wearily.

  While they were waiting for the lorry she looked around the town and watched as people went about their business. ‘It seems different somehow,’ she said, ‘like something’s changed here.’

  ‘A town doesn’t really have an atmosphere, Beth. A town can’t be sad, happy or evil. People can be, perhaps, or they can do evil things for selfish motives, but I don’t think the town has changed just because Alice Teale’s killers have been caught.’

  ‘Think what you like,’ she said, ‘but look around you.’

  And he did, mainly to humour her, as people went in and out of the shops, the pubs and the chippy, which was generating a wave of warm, fishy, vinegary air that escaped from its extractor fans. Black watched as people stopped to talk to one another on the street and exchange gossip, always Collemby’s most popular currency, before going on their way again. He had to admit it was a more serene spectacle than on the day they had arrived here. He was snatched from his thoughts by the lorry, which revved its engines almost in triumph as the driver finally completed his manoeuvre, backing away from the pub and out into the street before heading away up the road.

  ‘Have it your way,’ he said. ‘Come on, I’ll buy you some chips.’

  They ate them sitting on the wall as they thought about Collemby’s former headteacher and the years of abuse he had been involved in.

  ‘He had a wife,’ said Beth. ‘Do you think she knew?’

  ‘We’ll never know, but if you’ve been groomed like she was, you must know your husband has an interest in young girls. Surely you’d suspect that one day you might not be enough for him. Then there was his job. He was surrounded by hundreds of children, each and every day, and he had power over them all.’

  ‘Did he ever love her, I wonder,’ asked Beth, ‘in the early years of their marriage?’

  Black snorted his derision. ‘He didn’t marry her because he loved her.’

  ‘He did it to shut her up, then,’ offered Beth. ‘To keep her sweet.’

  Black shook his head. ‘No. That was a reason, but I bet it wasn’t the reason.’

  ‘Why did he want her, then?’

  ‘Camouflage,’ he said quietly. ‘That’s what he used her for, to blend in. Marrying her took the heat out of a bad situation and he probably did it out of necessity but, from then on, he could move freely from job to job and school to school. He was totally respectable, never under suspicion.’

  ‘They were so careful.’ She meant Keech and Morgan. ‘They never did anything out in the open and chose their victims carefully. Vulnerable girls who nobody would believe.’

  ‘They tried with Alice Teale, didn’t they?’ he said. ‘According to her journal, but they gave up early on, before they incriminated themselves – but she knew, or at least she guessed. She sensed what was going on and her suspicions grew when she learned about the Friday-evening detentions.’

  ‘But Alice Teale wasn’t vulnerable, and she had a father.’

  ‘An absent one,’ said Black. ‘He still lived in her home but he didn’t take much interest in the girl, or even like her very much. Either she was out of the house or he was. They picked up on it and must have thought they could groom her, but she pushed back against it and they gave up before they stepped over the line. She didn’t give up, though, did she? They misread Ronnie’s disinterest in her and the effect it had on Alice, though doubtless his behaviour hurt her.’

  ‘That’s because he was convinced she wasn’t his.’

  ‘Well, that’s the thing,’ he said. ‘Before DI Fraser left, he did some DNA tests to help ID Alice if they ever found her. I’ve seen the results, and they proved one thing beyond doubt. Alice Teale was definitely Ronnie Teale’s daughter.’

  ‘What? But we thought …’

  ‘That she was Alex McGregor’s,’ said Black. ‘Everyone thought that, including her own father. I think Alice thought it, too, perhaps.’

  ‘But she even looks like him,’ said Beth.

>   ‘We were seeing something that wasn’t really there,’ said Black. ‘She also looks like her father, and he resembles Alex McGregor. I remember reading somewhere that when people have affairs they often choose lovers who are not that physically dissimilar to their partners. I think Abigail Teale had a type.’

  ‘Tragic, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Ronnie Teale spent all that time hating his own daughter because he always suspected she was someone else’s. He just couldn’t get past that. She was a permanent reminder of a short-lived affair that ended years ago and might not even ever have been consummated. All this time, he could have just loved her, because she was his daughter.’

  ‘And now he has to live with himself,’ said Beth. ‘Imagine that.’

  And they did for a while, until Black asked, ‘How did you get on with the journal?’

  ‘I read every page. I found all the bits the headteacher kept back. The extracts he didn’t want us to see.’

  She fished into her bag and found the relevant photocopied pages then handed them to Black to read.

  The Journal of Alice Teale

  The moment when I first worked it out is as clear to me now as it was back then. He was walking along the corridor with her and we were going the other way, Chris and me. I don’t think Chris even noticed her, but I saw this scrawny young kid on her way to the punishment block again and I wondered what on earth she could have done to deserve another session in there. So that’s maybe why I looked at her a little more closely than usual, and I could see it in her face.

 

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