by G D Sanders
‘We’re grateful for your cooperation, Mr Anders. The official record is in line with what you say. You’ve no need for concern on that score.’
Anders looked visibly relieved. Ed continued speaking.
‘Stephan – may I call you Stephan?’
Anders nodded.
‘Thank you.’ Ed paused and then leant slightly towards the teacher. ‘Stephan, I appreciate the initial reaction to your behaviour may have been completely inappropriate but it could help our investigation if you would tell us what led to the incident.’
‘I teach maths but I’ve always had a keen interest in art, especially drawing. At university I used to sit in on some life classes. Soon after I arrived here, a colleague told me of a local group of keen amateurs, a mix of artists and photographers.’
‘That sounds perfectly reasonable; what caused all the trouble?’
‘The group found it difficult to get suitable models. We were asked if some of the girls at the school might be interested. Of course, there was a generous fee.’
‘I can see that using young girls would be problematic.’
‘But that’s the whole point. We didn’t use young girls, only sixth-formers. Some malicious bastard got wind of it and whispered in the Head’s ear that we were using young girls.’
‘Which of your colleagues was it?’
‘We wished we knew.’
‘I meant which of your colleagues was involved in the art group with you?’
‘I’d rather not say.’ The teacher averted his gaze. ‘It’s a matter of confidence and loyalty.’
‘For the moment, that’s your prerogative, Stephan. Our main concern is the abduction of Lucy Naylor. When asked about your whereabouts on the evening of Friday, 15 June, you said you spent the evening quietly at home with a headache. Can anyone corroborate that?’
‘As I said before, my wife was out with her women friends. She didn’t return until after midnight by which time I was already asleep.’
‘You didn’t make or receive any telephone calls on your landline?’
‘I’m afraid not. Am I a suspect?’
‘We have no reason to believe you were responsible for Lucy’s disappearance, Stephan, you are merely one of a large group of men we are trying to eliminate from our inquiries. Is there anything you would like to add?’
‘I’m afraid there’s nothing more than I’ve already told you.’
‘Thank you for your help. Before we go, DS Potts would like to take a more precise note of the extent to which you were involved professionally with Teresa Mulholland, Kimberley Hibben and Lucy Naylor.’ Ed got to her feet. ‘While you’re doing that perhaps I could use your bathroom. I assume it’s upstairs.’
‘Of course, you’ll find it straight ahead at the top of the stairs.’
Leaving the two men together, Ed went quickly to the bathroom where she firmly locked the door, raised the lid, and let it fall back noisily against the cistern. Silently, she crept out of the bathroom and swiftly looked round the two bedrooms. One was used as a study. In the wardrobe of the main bedroom, among Mrs Anders’s everyday clothes, she found several schoolgirl costumes. Closing the wardrobe door, she returned quietly to the bathroom and flushed the loo.
On their way to the Carltons, Ed told Mike of her discovery. ‘It suggests his interest in schoolgirls goes beyond the artistic.’
‘Hmm,’ muttered Mike, ‘half the couples in Canterbury will have something similar.’
When he opened the door, the art teacher, Alex Carlton, was clearly surprised to see them. With bad grace he took them through to the kitchen, saying he and his wife were watching a film on television. Ed took the lead.
‘As I said, Mr Carlton, my colleague and I are sorry to disturb you but our questions shouldn’t take up too much of your time. We thought you’d appreciate the privacy of your own home.’
‘How do you think I can help you?’
Unasked, Ed and Mike joined the art master at the kitchen table.
‘We’d like you to tell us why you had two weeks’ unexplained absence from the school in May 1999.’
Carlton reacted with surprise, a flash of anger, and then his features settled into a dogged wariness. ‘Who told you that? How can it possibly be relevant to your current investigation?’
‘We’ll be the judge of that, Mr Carlton, and may I remind you that I ask the questions. The absence is noted on your school record without comment.’
‘And that’s as it should be. It was all a ghastly misunderstanding.’ Suddenly, Carlton became emotional, almost self-pitying. ‘I was suspended for a fortnight, then given an official apology and reinstated.’
‘Mr Carlton, please tell me what led to this incident.’
‘I’ve told you, it was an error. I was reinstated with nothing on my record. We … I was assured that the whole matter would be forgotten.’
‘We shall be checking the police records, so why not give us your version of the events now.’
The teacher became flustered. ‘You can’t do that, it’s not right, it was a mistake …’
‘I assure you we can, Mr Carlton.’
‘But we’re doing nothing wrong, that was—’
‘One moment, Mr Carlton, you said, “We’re doing nothing wrong.” Were you implying these activities are continuing, that you’re currently engaged in them with one or more other persons?’
Alex Carlton’s face went pale. ‘I meant we were doing nothing wrong.’
‘So exactly what were you doing, Mr Carlton, and who did you do it with?’
‘It was a small group of local artists interested in figure work. They needed models and some of the girls were happy to do it. They were well paid.’
‘Wouldn’t you say that, as a teacher, recruiting girls who were in your charge was an inappropriate act on your part, Mr Carlton?’
‘All the girls were from the sixth form. When that was understood it was seen to be above board.’
‘And who was the other person involved in this recruitment?’
‘That’s a confidential matter. I prefer not to say.’
‘That’s your right at this time, Mr Carlton. I’m sure one of the official records will provide the information we require. There’s just one more thing: when questioned concerning your whereabouts on the evening of Friday, 15 June, you said you were on a long training run. Can anybody corroborate that?’
‘I run alone and, as I said when questioned. My wife was asleep when I returned.’
Ed glanced at Mike who shook his head.
‘Okay, that will be all for the moment. Thank you for your time and please apologize to your wife for our intrusion on your evening together. Sergeant Potts and I will leave you to get back to her and your film.’
‘Thank you, Officer.’
Ed dropped Mike off near his home and drove back to the hotel.
Leaving her room with five minutes in hand, Ed took the lift. She found Nigel at a table in the bar.
‘Such timing, Mr Drakes-Moulton.’
‘Playing to my strengths, DI Ogborne.’
‘Still DS, I’m afraid.’
‘Not in my eyes, merely a matter of time.’
‘No champagne?’ Ed looked at the empty table with exaggerated disappointment.
‘I thought we could do better than that.’
‘You plan to cap a nightcap?’
Nigel smiled. ‘Ah, for that you must indulge me. I was thinking of a reprise with variations.’
‘I’m intrigued.’
‘By more than my timing?’
Ed smiled. ‘Surprise me.’
‘First a cocktail. I thought a gin martini with an olive.’
Ed assumed Nigel had been quizzing Gino but she was happy to play along.
‘And then …?’
‘I’ve a table waiting in the restaurant.’
‘And then …?’
‘You’re forgetting what I said.’ Nigel paused, softening his voice to a caress as he leant closer.
‘A reprise with variations.’
Over dinner, Nigel returned to the challenge of capping the nightcap.
‘I was thinking we might fly to Vienna for a long weekend.’
‘Hmm, sounds good, but why Vienna?’
‘The Leopold. It’s a great art gallery, which has some of my favourite paintings.’ Nigel looked at her for a moment before adding, ‘Egon Schiele, have you come across him?’
‘He was my grandfather’s favourite artist.’ Ed noticed Nigel smile at the happy coincidence. ‘Which of his works do you particularly like?’ she asked.
Ed expected Nigel to mention the nudes but he surprised her.
‘His distorted figures are original and dramatic but I prefer the landscapes. For me they have a mysterious serenity. Do you know Setting Sun, the two trees side by side against dark fields and a pink sky?’
‘It’s a well-thumbed page in one of my grandfather’s books.’
‘Ah …’ Nigel appeared to be about to comment further but then continued. ‘Of course, Vienna has much else to offer. Rubbing shoulders at lunchtime with businessmen for brochen, the ultimate finger sandwiches, with a glass or two of Grüner Veltliner.’ Now he paused, his eyes dreamy as if reliving the experience. ‘And I know the most amazing rooftop restaurant.’
Ed had been physically attracted to Nigel since they first met but it seemed they had more in common than she’d imagined. She felt a warmth towards him which was not typical of her relationships with men. She took another of the petits fours and suggested a nightcap in her new room even though she would leave the drink untouched.
33
Ed and Mike followed Percy Lynn along the promenade at Herne Bay. To their left, the grey sea was flecked with white horses. Most of the holidaymakers had deserted the shingle beach for the amusement arcades and cafés which lined the seafront. The small pub wasn’t one Ed would have chosen for their meeting but it was quiet and she was pleased to be out of the wind. Pint in hand, Percy settled into a wheelback carver, clearly his favourite spot. Well, why not, thought Ed, we’re disrupting his retirement.
Percy took an appreciative mouthful of bitter and then another but remained silent. Ed sensed the meeting could soon become uncomfortable.
‘It’s good of you to see us today. You’ve probably read about the Lucy Naylor case.’
‘There was a piece in The Chronicle.’
‘Lucy was abducted from the Wincheap area and has now been missing for 18 days,’ said Ed. ‘Mike remembers something similar happening in 2008.’
‘The Hibben case.’
‘Right, Kimberley and her boyfriend Callum. Apparently the case was closed for lack of evidence.’
Percy, his face expressionless, barely nodded before taking another few mouthfuls of beer.
‘And a third in 2002?’ Ed waited for Percy to comment.
‘Teresa Mulholland.’
‘That’s the case that worries me,’ said Ed. ‘There’s nothing in police records.’
‘Hushed up.’
Ed felt she was questioning a hostile witness. Hadn’t Mike said the retired DI would be happy to talk over lunch?
‘Why was that?’
Percy remained stony-faced. ‘Who knows what goes on in the minds of the top brass?’ He took another long drink and looked meaningfully at his near-empty glass.
‘Would you like a top-up?’ asked Mike.
‘That would be very civil. Another pint and a whisky chaser would go down nicely.’
Mike gave the order to the bar and, when he was back in his seat, Ed returned to her questions.
‘What do you think was behind Teresa’s abduction?’
Percy waited for the landlord to put his new drinks on the table. Still without replying, he sniffed the whisky before swallowing a few mouthfuls of beer.
‘I didn’t work on the Mulholland case.’
‘What do you remember about it?’
Percy took a small sip of whisky, nodded appreciatively towards Mike and turned to engage with Ed.
‘Her father was a big-shot solicitor. Teresa went missing on her way home. There were no leads. A month later, she turned up in a church doorway unharmed. Then it all went quiet. No one was prosecuted.’
When neither of the two detectives spoke, Percy continued. ‘How do you think I can I help?’
‘All three girls went to the same school. Mike and I looked for potential suspects among the male staff. We’ve identified five who’ve been in post since January 2002 or earlier.’
Ed paused, poked at the slice of lemon in her tonic water and looked at Mike.
‘You’ll probably remember them.’ Mike counted the five suspects off on his fingers. ‘There’s the caretaker, Tomasz Podzansky, and four teachers, Roger Grieves, Ray Leaman, Alex Carlton and Stephan Anders.’
Percy nodded in recognition of the names but said nothing. Mike glanced at Ed and she resumed the story.
‘Records show Carlton and Anders were both suspended for two weeks in May 1999 and then reinstated.’
Mike cut in. ‘We’re suspicious because the reasons for these events have been removed from their school records and there’s nothing in police files.’
Percy Lynn rolled his eyes but remained silent. Ed continued.
‘Brian Saunders recalls there were rumours involving schoolgirls recruited as models for amateur artists.’
The retired DI brightened. ‘The Old Boys, usually referred to as TOBs. That wasn’t the official name; the group didn’t have a name. There was no written record that I ever found.’
‘How did you get involved?’ asked Mike.
‘We had an anonymous tip-off that two teachers, Anders and Carlton, were recruiting schoolgirls for sex with a group of local big shots. I interviewed a few alleged members then my Super told me I was off the case. It had been reassigned. He actually walked me back to my desk and personally collected all my case notes. After that there were a few rumours but it all went quiet.’
‘Sounds like a cover-up,’ said Mike bitterly.
Percy sat back as their food arrived. He took a long drink from his pint and waited until the landlord had returned to the bar.
‘The most I can do is tell you what I discovered.’
‘That and a few educated guesses would help to give us the bigger picture,’ said Ed.
‘I like my food hot.’ Mike picked up his knife and fork. ‘Let’s eat while we talk.’
The two men ate quickly. Ed’s fish was good but she left most of the chips and much of the batter untouched and soon pushed her plate aside. Percy was still eating but she resumed her questions nonetheless.
‘So what can you tell us about this clandestine art group?’
‘TOBs was a dozen or so acquaintances who enjoyed social occasions at the rugby club, county cricket ground, and in private dining rooms at local restaurants.’
‘What sort of people?’ asked Ed.
‘They were all what you’d call professionals: solicitors, estate agents, a couple of local councillors, a few company directors and the like.’
‘Sounds like a proper old boys’ club,’ said Mike with a tone of disapproval.
‘An opportunity for discreet business deals,’ added Ed, similarly unimpressed.
‘You’re not the first to say that, but there was another side to their activities.’ Percy paused for a mouthful of food. ‘Few people knew the same group met regularly for drawing, painting and photography sessions.’
‘You mean life classes … naked women,’ said Mike.
Percy ignored him and ate another forkful of food before continuing. ‘The group had grown disenchanted with hard-faced professional models and wanted something fresher.’
‘Or younger, more naive,’ said Mike.
Ed gave her colleague an irritated glance, wondering how he could say so much while continuing to eat so quickly. She turned and prompted Percy. ‘And the recruitment of younger models is where Anders, Carlton and the schoolgirls came in?’
; ‘Right. Stephan Anders got the art master, Alex Carlton, to help. He, Anders that is, knew Drakes-Moulton from university. They were founder members of TOBs.’
Ed was startled. ‘Did you say Drakes-Moulton?’ The words were out before she could stop them.
Shit. She hadn’t seen it coming. Her life and the case were converging. She was used to sailing close to the wind but this could take all her skill to avoid a collision. Shit, shit, shit. Ed tried to focus, aware that Percy was looking at her quizzically and asking a question.
‘D’you know him?’
‘I’m buying my apartment through the estate agent he works for.’
‘Works for? He bloody owns it. At least his family do.’
It was Mike’s turn to nod but he let Percy continue.
‘The Drakes-Moultons are big in these parts. Landed gentry whose fortunes have dipped but they still live well from estates and businesses in and around Canterbury.’
Not for the first time, Ed began to wonder what her impulsive nature had got her into.
‘The whole family play hard. Ultimately, all their actions are self-serving but, as far as we could tell, the Drakes-Moultons make damn sure their business dealings are totally straight. It helps because they know the right people.’
Percy reached for his whisky and leant back in his chair.
‘If he’s taken a liking to you he’ll be able to put a good proposition your way. Just make sure you stay on the right side of him.’
What Percy was saying made Ed feel uncomfortable. She looked at Mike and was pleased to see he appeared to be preoccupied with his food.
‘What did Drakes-Moulton have to do with TOBs?’
‘He was central, not only a founder member but the group held their life class sessions at The Hall, his home on the family estate over towards Stelling Minnis.’
‘So Carlton and Anders were recruiting models from among their sixth-form girls?’
‘That’s undoubtedly true. At least one girl went on to be a professional glamour model, page three and the like. Drakes-Moulton took a shine to her. The modelling work dried up but I hear the two of them are still close.’