out of her way to make friends, but she was highly efficient and an excellent manager. The pupils regarded her with great respect, and discipline in the school improved enormously under her leadership. Her predecessor was hugely popular, but discipline had become somewhat lax with him at the helm.’ He gave a weary smile. ‘A school needs to be tough on discipline or things can rapidly get out of hand. Abigail had her faults, as anyone will tell you. Not everyone will be sorry she's gone. But our whole school community will be united in deploring the circumstance of her departure.’
‘What about the rest of the staff?’ Geraldine asked. Mr Maloney didn't answer. ‘Was she popular with the teachers?’
‘You'd have to ask them,’ he replied shortly. ‘I can't speak for anyone else. But in my opinion her loss will prove to be a terrible blow for the school. A terrible blow.’
‘Thank you, Mr Maloney. Please contact us if you remember anything that might assist us in our enquiries. And finally, can you think of anyone who might have had a grudge against Abigail Kirby?’
‘A grudge?’ he repeated in surprise, looking directly at her so the light played off his lenses, hiding his eyes. ‘It would have to be some grudge for someone to kill her. You honestly think it might have been one of the staff who did that?’ The deputy head sounded shocked. ‘We're teachers, Inspector, not hitmen. We may not always see eye to eye with one another but we conduct ourselves in a civilised manner at all times, conscious that we are role models for the youngsters in our care.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Geraldine interrupted as he seemed to be straying into another speech, ‘but someone's responsible for Abigail Kirby's death. We have to consider every possibility, however remote. Presumably you will be taking over now?’
‘Yes, I'll be acting head until the governors can appoint a replacement.’ Mr Maloney inclined his head. ‘There won't be an internal appointment. They always appoint from outside. Always.’
On their way out, Geraldine and the sergeant spoke to the school secretary, a woman of about fifty who smiled glassily up at them from behind her desk. ‘George told me.’ She ran heavily ringed fingers across her greying hair. ‘So it's true. Mrs Kirby – Abigail – she's really dead?’
‘I'm afraid so.’
‘What happened? She always looked so well.’
‘We're investigating the circumstances,’ Peterson told her.
‘Investigating? Does that mean she was murdered?’ Her eyes grew wide, fascinated rather than appalled.
‘What makes you think that?’ Geraldine asked.
The secretary shook her head. ‘I don't know. You're here, aren't you. You wouldn't be here if –’ Without warning she burst into noisy sobs. Spluttering an apology, she rummaged in her bag for a tissue and blew her nose noisily. ‘I'm sorry. It must be the shock. It's not as if I even liked her, not really. I'm afraid she wasn't a very nice woman, Inspector. She wasn't well liked.’ She blew her nose again.
Geraldine pulled over a chair and sat down. The sergeant closed the door to the secretary's office and took out his notebook.
‘Why was she unpopular?’
The secretary frowned nervously. ‘She had an unfortunate manner. She liked you to know who was boss. I mean, she wouldn't ask if you minded doing something for her, not like Mr Hollins, the old head. He was a real gentleman. He acted like you were doing him a favour, whenever he asked you to do something, however small. But not Mrs Kirby. Do you know, in a whole year, I don't think she once thanked me for anything I did. Bad manners, if you ask me. Not that I'd wish any trouble on her. She just wasn't a warm person. She was always working. She never had time to stop for a chat. Mr Hollins always had time.’
‘Mrs Collins,’ Geraldine spoke slowly. ‘I want you to think carefully before you answer. I don't need to tell you how important this is.’ The secretary nodded
‘What about the rest of the staff?’ Geraldine asked. Mr Maloney didn't answer. ‘Was she popular with the teachers?’
‘You'd have to ask them,’ he replied shortly. ‘I can't speak for anyone else. But in my opinion her loss will prove to be a terrible blow for the school. A terrible blow.’
‘Thank you, Mr Maloney. Please contact us if you remember anything that might assist us in our enquiries. And finally, can you think of anyone who might have had a grudge against Abigail Kirby?’
‘A grudge?’ he repeated in surprise, looking directly at her so the light played off his lenses, hiding his eyes. ‘It would have to be some grudge for someone to kill her. You honestly think it might have been one of the staff who did that?’ The deputy head sounded shocked. ‘We're teachers, Inspector, not hitmen. We may not always see eye to eye with one another but we conduct ourselves in a civilised manner at all times, conscious that we are role models for the youngsters in our care.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Geraldine interrupted as he seemed to be straying into another speech, ‘but someone's responsible for Abigail Kirby's death. We have to consider every possibility, however remote. Presumably you will be taking over now?’
‘Yes, I'll be acting head until the governors can appoint a replacement.’ Mr Maloney inclined his head. ‘There won't be an internal appointment. They always appoint from outside. Always.’
On their way out, Geraldine and the sergeant spoke to the school secretary, a woman of about fifty who smiled glassily up at them from behind her desk. ‘George told me.’ She ran heavily ringed fingers across her greying hair. ‘So it's true. Mrs Kirby – Abigail – she's really dead?’
‘I'm afraid so.’
‘What happened? She always looked so well.’
‘We're investigating the circumstances,’ Peterson told her.
‘Investigating? Does that mean she was murdered?’ Her eyes grew wide, fascinated rather than appalled.
‘What makes you think that?’ Geraldine asked.
The secretary shook her head. ‘I don't know. You're here, aren't you. You wouldn't be here if –’ Without warning she burst into noisy sobs. Spluttering an apology, she rummaged in her bag for a tissue and blew her nose noisily. ‘I'm sorry. It must be the shock. It's not as if I even liked her, not really. I'm afraid she wasn't a very nice woman, Inspector. She wasn't well liked.’ She blew her nose again.
Geraldine pulled over a chair and sat down. The sergeant closed the door to the secretary's office and took out his notebook.
‘Why was she unpopular?’
The secretary frowned nervously. ‘She had an unfortunate manner. She liked you to know who was boss. I mean, she wouldn't ask if you minded doing something for her, not like Mr Hollins, the old head. He was a real gentleman. He acted like you were doing him a favour, whenever he asked you to do something, however small. But not Mrs Kirby. Do you know, in a whole year, I don't think she once thanked me for anything I did. Bad manners, if you ask me. Not that I'd wish any trouble on her. She just wasn't a warm person. She was always working. She never had time to stop for a chat. Mr Hollins always had time.’
‘Mrs Collins,’ Geraldine spoke slowly. ‘I want you to think carefully before you answer. I don't need to tell you how important this is.’ The secretary nodded
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