The Deadline Series Boxset

by Wendy Soliman

  He watched her as she slept, head rested on his shoulder, hair fanning out over his chest. Ty would have watched her indefinitely and then thought of an inventive way to wake her up if he’d had the luxury of time on his side. Unfortunately he didn’t. They needed to go into Reading and meet with Juliette’s former headmistress. Mrs Bagshaw had, Ty suspected, only agreed to see him out of a morbid sense of curiosity and, perhaps, because she wanted to protect the reputation of her school. Ty was fairly sure it would be a waste of time and was tempted to cancel in favour of a prolonged lie-in. But lingering doubts about Juliette and Greta’s early days endured, thus making the decision for him.

  Sighing, he gently dislodged his shoulder from beneath Alexi’s face. She mumbled something incoherent, turned over and continued to sleep. He’d take a quick shower, then wake her up with breakfast in bed. But first he had to remove the other obstacle preventing him from doing so.

  Cosmo had taken issue with Ty usurping his usual spot next to Alexi and it was a while before Ty was able to establish the pecking order. Cosmo took umbrage, having been repeatedly ejected from the bed, and stalked off. He sat on the window ledge, flattening the curtains beneath his weight as he looked on like a disgruntled referee. Ty and Alexi were too turned on to care about his hurt feelings. Eventually, when they settled down to sleep, Cosmo deigned to join them, settling himself on Ty’s feet and not moving.

  ‘Come on, big guy.’ Ty gently agitating the cat with his feet. ‘Time to start the day.’

  Man and cat left the bedroom. Half an hour later Ty, fresh from the shower and Cosmo, who had also just completed his morning ablutions, returned to the bedroom with Alexi’s breakfast. She sat up when the door opened, adorably dishevelled as she blinked sleep from her eyes. She pushed tangled hair off her face and stroked Cosmo, who had jumped onto the bed and nudged her with his big head.

  ‘Morning, sleepyhead.’ Ty put the tray on the side table and leaned in for a prolonged kiss.

  ‘Morning yourself. What time is it?’

  ‘Half seven.’

  ‘You’re lying. We only just went to bed.’

  Ty chortled. ‘Time flies when you’re having fun.’

  ‘You smell all fresh and nice.’ She made it sound like an accusation. ‘How long have you been up?’

  ‘A while.’ He examined her face, trying to read her expression, but it gave nothing away. ‘You okay?’

  She sent him a somnolent smile. ‘Feeling pretty good, for someone who’s had no sleep.’

  ‘No regrets?’

  ‘Trying to talk yourself out of a job?’

  Ty shook his head decisively. ‘No chance of that. Just so you know, I don’t do one-night stands. Last night was, I hope, the first of many that we’ll spend together.’

  She nodded, looking relieved. ‘Let’s talk about it after we’ve found Juliette’s killer.’

  He tweaked her nose. ‘It’s a date.’

  She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. ‘Is that coffee I can smell?’

  ‘And scrambled eggs and bacon.’

  ‘You got a thing for fat females? I only asked since you appear intent upon feeding me up.’ She shuffled into a sitting position. ‘Carry on this way and I’ll have to turn sideways to walk through the door.’

  ‘Do you always talk so much first thing?’ he asked, chuckling and pinching a piece of her bacon. She slapped his fingers.

  ‘Only when I’m nervous.’

  ‘Darling, you have absolutely nothing to be nervous about. Now come on, eat up. Then hit the shower. We need to get going.’

  By eight o’clock they were on the road but got caught up in the inevitable morning traffic. They made it to Arborfield with a couple of minutes to spare before their appointment with Mrs Bagshaw.

  ‘Some place,’ Alexi remarked as Ty drove slowly through tall wrought iron gates with the name of the school emblazoned above them in a high arch. ‘Must cost parents a few bob to send their little darlings here.’

  ‘If you need to ask, you can’t afford it.’

  ‘Kids are an expensive luxury, especially if you want them to have the best of everything. Makes you wonder why people have so many of them.’

  ‘Not thinking in terms of motherhood yourself?’

  ‘I never have but I will admit that being around little Verity has made me a bit broody. Don’t worry, the mood will pass.’

  Ty sent her a prolonged sideways look before returning his attention to the road. ‘I wasn’t worried. Just curious. Most women go on about their biological clocks ticking.’

  ‘I really hadn’t given it that much thought. Besides, being a single mum has never appealed to me. All that responsibility.’ She shuddered. ‘Anyway, let’s think about Mrs Bagshaw and what we plan to ask her.’

  ‘Right.’

  Ty’s interest in children had obviously spooked her so he backed off. He glanced at the bare frost-covered branches of trees leading to the banks of the river; a boat house visible, a few hardy aquatic fowl paddling miserably about in the shallows. Why did he imagine they were miserable? They were ducks. Paddling about in freezing water was what they did. He chuckled to himself at the quixotic nature of his thoughts as they drove on past manicured playing fields, tennis courts and what was obviously a gymnasium. A few track-suited girls were doing circuits of the running track. The whole school took up a fraction of what used to be one family’s private estate. A steady stream of expensive cars, some driven by chauffeurs no less, came the other way presumably having dropped kids off.

  ‘They don’t board here?’ Alexi asked.

  ‘Nope. It’s a girls’ day school.’

  Ty found the car park and slotted his vehicle into a vacant spot. Cosmo barely stirred, knowing, as he always seemed to, that he wouldn’t be getting out with them. He opened one eye just long enough to watch them leave the car, then continued sleeping off his breakfast.

  Ty asked directions from the teacher at the door who was checking the kids in and was pointed in the direction of Mrs Bagshaw’s office. They made their way down a long corridor, passing gaggles of girls in uniform who talked and giggled, swapping secrets and details of personal dramas in the manner of girls the world over.

  When they arrived at their destination they were told by the head mistress’s secretary that they were expected and could go straight in. Mrs Bagshaw was an elegant woman in her fifties wearing a grey tailored suit, her hair styled in a neat bob. She stood up from behind an imposing desk and came around it to offer them her hand. Ty made the introductions.

  ‘Thank you for seeing us,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll admit that curiosity got the better of me.’ She turned her attention to Alexi. ‘And I had an ulterior motive. I wanted to meet Ms Ellis, you see. I admire your work. It’s a refreshing change nowadays to meet a journalist who bothers to check her facts and doesn’t compromise her standards.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And as to my ulterior motive,’ she said, motioning them to a comfortable arrangement of upholstered chairs in one corner of her spacious office. ‘I was rather hoping that I could persuade you, Ms Ellis, to come and talk to some of our sixth form about the challenges and rewards in your profession.’

  ‘Please call me Alexi, and I’d be glad to do that,’ Alexi replied, looking to Ty as though she shared his initial impression of Mrs Bagshaw, which was favourable. ‘But I ought to warn you, I won’t sugar coat it, and will possibly deter any wannabe journalists by telling it like it is. The industry has changed beyond recognition, and not necessarily for the better.’

  ‘I think they’d prefer to know the truth.’ Mrs Bagshaw smiled at them both and then sat a little straighter, all business again. ‘Now, how can I help you? You said this was about Juliette Hammond and Greta Reid. I was horrified to hear about what happened to Juliette.’

  ‘We all were,’ Alexi replied with feeling.

  ‘She was not always easy to handle; not even as a child, but she didn’t deserve that.’

/>   ‘No,’ Ty agreed, nodding. ‘Nobody does.’

  ‘I’ve been watching the show and have to say I was surprised to see not one but two of my former pupils taking part. I assumed it would only be a matter of time before the girls started talking on camera about their time here. I don’t mind admitting that I was anxious about what they might have to say.’

  ‘I gather there was some animosity between them when they were here,’ Ty said. ‘That would account for your anxiety.’

  Mrs Bagshaw took a moment to consider her response. ‘Ninety per cent of our girls come from families who can afford the fees, which means we get a pretty mixed bag of abilities. Greta won a scholarship and remains in my memory as one of the most intelligent girls it has been my pleasure to teach. My career spans over thirty years so that’s saying something. But there was something special about Greta. Not only did she have a sharp mind and retentive memory, but she also wanted to learn everything we could teach her. It was as though she knew what an opportunity she’d been given and had no intention of squandering it.’

  ‘I imagine the scholarship kids don’t speak the same language as the majority of pupils here,’ Alexi said.

  ‘Same language, different accent,’ Mrs Bagshaw replied.

  Ty smiled. He already knew that much, having overheard the upper class accents in that corridor.

  ‘Several of our scholarship students have left because they couldn’t settle, preferring the local comprehensive where they fit in better. We have a no bullying policy here but I’m not so naïve as to imagine it doesn’t take place. Think back to your own school days. Anyone who didn’t fit in was a victim of some sort of discrimination. Greta was different, though. She didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t go to hunt balls or get into the members’ enclosure at Royal Ascot—’

  ‘You’re joking,’ Ty muttered.

  ‘Barely.’ Mrs Bagshaw sighed. ‘Anyway, Greta was keen to learn and made no effort to ingratiate herself with the wealthier students. Juliette, I believe, befriended her, not the other way around.’

  ‘Because she wanted something from her?’ Alexi suggested.

  ‘Almost certainly. Juliette, and many others like her who pass through this establishment, are adept at using charm and guile to get what they want. They learn to play upon doting but often absent parents’ guilt in such a fashion almost from the cradle. Anyway, I’m absolutely certain that Greta helped Juliette with her home assignments in return for being accepted by Juliette’s inner circle.’

  ‘You didn’t try to stop Juliette getting outside help with her work?’ Ty asked.

  Mrs Bagshaw looked amused by the suggestion. ‘It would be like trying to halt a tidal wave. If they don’t crib from other students, they rely on the internet. Such are the times we live in. Fortunately, when it comes to exams, they have to rely on their own brainpower, or lack thereof.’ Mrs Bagshaw paused, appearing to measure her words. ‘You must understand that students who attend this establishment and others like it expect, if you like, to obtain a certain degree of proficiency in whatever skills they happen to possess. Juliette adored cooking and was very good at it. She was also a good sportswoman…tennis, hockey and skiing were her forte. But when it came to intellectual pursuits…well, let’s just say that Oxbridge wasn’t likely to come knocking at her door any time soon.’

  ‘It must sometimes be dispiriting, being aware the parents don’t expect you to push your charges.’

  ‘Every so often one like Greta comes along, which makes it worthwhile. As for girls like Juliette, she would get preferential treatment in the job market, if she applied for something within her capabilities like reception work or in the PR field, simply because of her background.’ Mrs Bagshaw was clearly pragmatic, Ty thought. ‘That’s simply the way the world works. Unfair perhaps, but we have to do the best we can, working within the limitations of the system.’

  ‘You say Greta and Juliette were tight. When did that situation change?’ Alexi asked.

  ‘During Greta’s final year with us. Juliette was one year below. And before you ask, I have absolutely no idea why.’

  Ty nodded, thinking of their fight over the gardener’s assistant; not something they were likely to share with their headmistress. Even in an establishment where money appeared to purchase a fair degree of behavioural latitude, having sex with the hired help would most likely be frowned upon and result in expulsion.

  ‘Greta was reasonably nice looking when she was here,’ Mrs Bagshaw remarked.

  She picked up a year book and showed them a head and shoulders shot of Greta. Her face was a lot thinner than now, her optimistic expression typical of the young and idealistic who were convinced they could change the world. Her hair was arguably her best feature, Ty thought, as he studied her image. It was held back in a ponytail which she’d dragged over one shoulder when the picture had been taken. There was a class shot as well. Ty picked out Greta immediately. This time he got a view of her entire body. She’d been truthful in that she’d definitely been an inverted pear shape in her younger years. She was thrusting her bosom towards the camera like she had a point to prove.

  ‘Yes, she was a nice looking girl,’ Alexi agreed. ‘She still is.’

  ‘Juliette was a class apart, of course.’ Mrs Bagshaw swapped to another year book and showed them Juliette’s picture. ‘And she knew it,’ she added, screwing up her nose.

  ‘You didn’t like her?’ Ty asked.

  ‘Most of my fee-paying students have a high opinion of themselves. They’re brought up to think themselves better than their company, so to speak. Juliette was an extreme example of that attitude. Life definitely owed her a living.’

  ‘Wow!’ Alexi shook her head as she looked at the picture of a young Juliette. ‘Such a waste.’

  ‘I agree. I might not have liked her superior attitude but she didn’t deserve to die.’ Mrs Bagshaw sighed. ‘Who does? Especially that young.’

  ‘All we can do for her now is to try and find out who killed her, and why,’ Ty said.

  Mrs Bagshaw looked startled. ‘Surely that’s a job for the police.’

  ‘Alexi has a business interest in the hotel where the competition is being filmed. Naturally, she doesn’t want a stigma attaching to the place, especially since it’s owned by friends of hers.’

  ‘I understand.’ Mrs Bagshaw nodded. ‘If the police don’t find the killer, rumours start and word of mouth could kill the hotel’s trade.’

  ‘Precisely.’ It was Alexi’s turn to nod. ‘With that in mind, can you think of anything between Greta and Juliette when they were here that might have come to a head when they were unexpectedly thrown together on that show?’

  Mrs Bagshaw shook her head. ‘Even if there was, Greta isn’t capable of murder.’

  ‘I’m sure she isn’t,’ Ty said smoothly, thinking that anyone was capable of killing, given sufficient provocation. ‘We’re simply trying to build up a better picture of Juliette. We need to understand her and what was going on in her life.’

  ‘I have been thinking about both girls ever since I saw they were in the competition.’ Mrs Bagshaw said. ‘There was an incident, shortly before Greta left, although I can’t see what help it would be to you. Anyway, Greta appeared at school with her hair shorn to within an inch of her scalp. All her teachers were astounded. She was inordinately proud of her hair and it was obvious the alteration wasn’t something she’d decided upon herself.’ She frowned pensively. ‘I tried hard to get to the bottom of her problem since it was obvious something was amiss but she wouldn’t talk to me about it. I always felt it was something to do with her and Juliette. They were at daggers drawn after that. They couldn’t be in the same room without the most awful atmosphere prevailing. I’ve never known hostility like it. Needless to say, Juliette had most of the school on her side in whatever the dispute was about and poor Greta was left friendless.’

  ‘What did you do about it?’ Alexi asked.

  ‘What could I do?’ Mrs Bagshaw’s expres
sion became stoic. ‘Greta hadn’t lodged a complaint and wouldn’t have thanked me for stepping in. That would make it appear as though she’d come tattling to me, which would have made matters worse for her. I tried asking a few discreet questions but met with a wall of silence. Other matters took my attention and in the end I gave up. There is only so much I can do without seeming like an interfering busybody.’

  ‘I see.’ Ty thought of something else. ‘You had a team of people caring for the grounds back then. Can you remember the name of the company?’

  ‘Good heavens, whatever does that have to do with anything?’

  ‘It probably doesn’t but Greta mentioned them in passing. I just wondered if—’

  ‘Well, if it’s important, I can tell you they’re called Wright Landscaping. We still use them. They’re based in Reading and are in the phone book, or my secretary can give you their number, if you want to talk to them. I can’t think why you should but…’

  They talked for a little longer but other than reinforcing her admiration for Greta’s intelligence and barely concealing her contempt for Juliette, Mrs Bagshaw had nothing more of interest to tell them.

  ‘It’s been very pleasant meeting you both,’ she said, glancing at her watch and standing up. ‘But now you really must excuse me. I don’t think I can tell you anything else that will help you and I have another meeting.’

  ‘Of course,’ Ty replied. ‘Thanks for making time for us.’

  ‘Here’s my card,’ Alexi said, producing one from her bag and handing it to Mrs Bagshaw. ‘Give me a call if you’re serious about that talk and we’ll fix something up.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’ Mrs Bagshaw walked them to the door. ‘Do let me know if anything develops; especially if it has any bearing on this establishment. Not that I can see how it would, but I have my governors to answer to.’

  Ty and Alexi said their goodbyes and made their way back to Ty’s car. When they climbed into it Cosmo fixed them with an accusatory look, a bit like a peeved father demanding to know what had taken so long. Alexi reached across to smooth his head, which Cosmo took as an invitation to jump over the back of her seat and land on her lap with, given his size, a surprisingly soft thud.