He shook his head. ‘Got all the fag ends, ground samples and a couple of stray hairs. No usable footprints, though,’ he said, nodding towards his team. ‘We’ll be inspecting her clothes once we’re finished here, which won’t be long now. I’m gonna be honest though, Inspector, I’m not hopeful.’
She understood and appreciated his honesty. This case was not going to be solved by forensic evidence.
‘Cheers, Mitch,’ she said, walking away.
‘So, you clear on what we’re doing?’ she asked Dawson as he fell into step beside her.
She had asked Stacey to start compiling background information on both the facility and the parents. Dawson was responsible for talking to Sadie’s friends as she felt they were more likely to open up to a more youthful officer, and she and Bryant were taking the adults.
Kim could almost taste the exclusivity of Heathcrest as she stepped into the grand entrance hall. From the Persian rug that was almost big enough for a boxing match to the antique Grandfather clock in the top left-hand corner. Gilt-edged portraits lined the space beneath decorative coving. Marble pillars led the eye out of the hallway along a lit corridor towards the rear of the house. It narrowed away from her like a tunnel, giving her an idea of the scale of the building. There were few schools she’d visited where the contents of this hall would have remained intact and without damage.
Mr Thorpe was waiting for them with his hands linked in front of him. Gone was the frazzled, unkempt man operating on shock and adrenaline that she’d met yesterday. In its place was a calm, suited individual, complete with tiepin bearing the crest of the school. His dark suit was more flattering, and his belt appeared to be in the right place today.
‘Good morning, officers,’ he said, glancing across the three of them.
There was no offer of a handshake and Kim could feel the reticence behind the man. Principal Thorpe did not want them there.
He caught Bryant’s gaze as it rested on the two busts either side of him.
‘Lord and Lady Burdoch,’ he said, turning to look at the sculptures. ‘The founders of Heathcrest,’ he said, proudly. Without prompting from either of them he continued. ‘Elizabeth Burdoch inherited the estate from her parents whose only son died in the First World War. By the beginning of the Second World War, Elizabeth and her husband Charles were in their late forties and childless. They opened their home to children from the cities being bombed.’
‘How did that develop into this?’ Dawson asked.
‘As the war continued Elizabeth became aware that the education of the children was suffering and began bringing teachers here. At first it was the basics, but once she saw the positive effect of learning in such an environment, she went on to employ science teachers, physical education teachers and eventually covered the whole curriculum.’
‘Go on,’ Dawson urged.
‘The end of the war came but parents wanted their children to continue their education here. Unfortunately, the money was beginning to run out and Elizabeth could no longer afford to provide free education.’
‘So, what happened?’ asked Kim.
‘Some children stayed, and some didn’t.’
‘The ones that couldn’t pay were sent home?’ Kim clarified.
‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘Except for two. One girl and one boy were chosen each year to receive a scholarship to Heathcrest worth approximately thirty-five thousand pounds per year.’
‘That’s generous,’ Kim said, before she could stop herself.
‘Based on what, exactly?’ Bryant asked.
‘Normally some kind of exceptional sporting achievement or musical ability,’ he answered.
Both very public careers that would reflect favourably on the school, she noted silently.
‘So, who owns Heathcrest now?’ Bryant asked, as two teenage boys crossed the hall giving Kim her first visual evidence of the purpose of the building.
‘A board of trustees,’ Thorpe answered, watching the boys’ progress. Their chatter had stopped as they’d entered the great hall but began again once through the door on the other side.
‘Before Elizabeth died she appointed five staff members as overseers, people she felt had been particularly loyal and invested to safeguard the running and reputation of the school. It’s a lifelong commitment, and when a trustee dies the remaining four decide on a new trustee.’
‘Couldn’t they all just sell it?’ Kim asked.
He shook his head. ‘There is a no-sale clause in the trustee agreement. Although each trustee receives a dividend.’
‘How much?’ Kim asked out of interest.
‘It’s two hundred thousand pounds a year.’
Nice, Kim thought.
‘Well, thank you for that, Mr Thorpe, but if you could direct us to the room we spoke about,’ she said pointing at herself and Bryant. ‘And Dawson will head off to have a closer look at Sadie’s room.’
Kim saw the tightening of the jaw as he stepped out of salesman mode and remembered the reason for their presence.
‘You will find the female dorm rooms in the East wing second level. Room thirty-six.’
Dawson thanked him and headed out of the grand hall.
‘And I’ll take you to the room we’ve made available,’ Thorpe added.
She had asked Stacey to call ahead requesting space and an opportunity to speak to people who knew Sadie.
‘May we?’ he asked, touching her elbow and guiding her away from Bryant. She moved her arm away from his touch as Bryant fell into step behind them.
‘Is this really normal practice for a teenage suicide?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure there is anything normal about a teenage suicide,’ she answered, evasively.
‘It’s just that we have many other students to consider and a police presence could be most distracting to their studies. Many of them are at delicate stages of—’
‘Principal Thorpe,’ she said, cutting him off. ‘Let me be clear so that there is no misunderstanding between us. Right now I have concern for only one of your students, and I’m sure you can guess which one. Now, if our being here disrupts the studies of your students that would be unfortunate, but our presence will remain until we better understand the circumstances surrounding the death of Sadie Winters,’ she said, as he came to a halt before a door bearing a brass plate marked ‘office’.
‘This space is spare since we moved Administration onto the first floor,’ he said, opening the door.
A single antique desk was surrounded by modern office chairs. Three shelves, now empty, gathered dust along the longest wall. The windowless room felt dark and stuffy with only a 40 watt bulb to light the space.
Kim wondered idly if this was really the only place available in this vast property.
Principal Thorpe looked at his watch. ‘I’ll leave you to get settled, and Nancy, my assistant, will be down shortly. I’d assist you myself, but I have prospective parents due to arrive.’
‘Please, don’t let us hold you up,’ Kim said, although Thorpe appeared to miss the sarcasm in her tone.
Must try harder, she told herself as he closed the door behind himself.
‘Bloody hell, Bryant,’ Kim said as the light from the hallway was extinguished. She had the sudden feeling of being trapped underground. The room was barely bigger than her bathroom.
‘So, what do you think about him?’ Bryant asked, removing his jacket.
‘Guarded would be an understatement,’ she said, choosing a chair and putting another one on the other side of the desk. ‘And now he’s gotta go sell the place the day after a child in his care died.’
‘He’ll have no trouble there,’ Bryant said.
‘I’d think twice, wouldn’t you?’
Bryant considered for a second and then shook his head.
Kim sat. ‘Why not?’
‘Because as far as he’s concerned it’s a suicide,’ he said. ‘Suicide belongs only to the person that did it. It’s a solitary choice for an individual’s own reasons. No parent would think their child capable of the same thing. Murder or even accidental death indicate some kind of failing or neglect on behalf of the school but not suicide.’
‘So, you’d still send your kid here?’ Kim asked.
‘Yeah, if I’d been on the four-year waiting list.’
She thought about the empty place at the school, vacated by thirteen-year-old Sadie Winters.
She supposed one family was about to get lucky.
Thirteen