Read Online Innocent Graves by Peter Robinson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Peter Robinson
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you up at the—”
“No. Let’s meet at the hotel.” She looked at her watch. “There’s a bus at ten-fifteen.”
“All right. I’ll be waiting for you.”
III
“These are the dormitories for the boarding pupils,” Dr Green pointed out as they walked through the school grounds. The two large buildings ahead were of far more recent construction than the main school building, redbrick for the most part, with some stone at their bases, functional rather than aesthetically pleasing. “As I said earlier, we have 286 boarders. They have showers, central heating, all the comforts the modern child requires. You’ll also notice we have installed a number of lamps along all the major pathways. They’re kept on until ten o’clock every night, by which time all the girls are expected to be in bed. This isn’t Lowood or Dotheboys, you realize. Parents spend a lot of money to send their children here.”
“Television?”
She smiled. “Yes, that too.”
“What’s that building over there?” Banks pointed through the trees to a three-storey rectangular building that seemed to be made of some sort of prefabricated concrete the colour of porridge.
“That’s the staff residence, I’m afraid,” said Dr Green. “Ugly isn’t it? Actually, it’s quite nice inside. The flats are quite spacious: living-room, bedroom, storage heaters. Luxury.”
“Who lives there, apart from you?”
“At the moment, six of the flats are occupied. It all depends. We have thirty members of staff, a very good ratio, and some of our teachers live in or near town. The flats are essentially for single members of staff who have recently moved into the area, or, as in my case, single teachers who want to maintain close contact with the school.” She tilted her umbrella and gave Banks a challenging glance from under the rim. “You asked me rather impertinently notso long ago whether I lived alone. The school is my life, Chief Inspector. I have neither the inclination nor the time for anyone or anything else.”
Banks nodded. Then he sneezed. Susan blessed him.
“Here we are,” Dr Green went on, stepping under the porch of the dormitory and lowering her umbrella. She shook it carefully before rolling it up. “The infirmary is on the ground floor. We have one full-time nurse on staff and a local doctor on call.”
They walked down the hall and entered the infirmary. It smelled of disinfectant. After a brief word with the nurse, Dr Green directed Banks and Susan towards a row of curtained cubicles, in one of which Megan Preece lay on a narrow bed.
“Megan’s fine, nurse says,” Dr Green whispered. “But she’s had a terrible shock and she’s been given a mild tranquillizer, so please go slowly.”
Banks nodded. There clearly wasn’t room for all of them in the cubicle, yet Dr Green seemed to want to stay.
“It’s all right,” Banks said, ushering Susan to Megan’s bedside chair. “We’ll find our own way out when we’ve finished.”
Dr Green stood for a moment and frowned, then she nodded, turned on her heel and clicked away down the corridor.
When Banks found a chair for himself, Susan was already talking to Megan, reassuring her that everything would be all right. From what Banks could see of the head poking above the grey blanket, Megan was a slight, thin girl of about Deborah Harrison’s age, with dark curly hair and a tanned complexion.
But Megan’s features lacked whatever cohesion or symmetry it took to make her conventionally pretty, unlike her friend Deborah, who had been beautiful in that lissom, blonde, athletic sort of way. Megan’s nose was a little too big, and slightly crooked; her lips were too thin, and her mouth was too small for her teeth. But her big, serious earth-brown eyes were striking; they seemed to capture you at first glance and draw you to her.
Banks introduced himself, noting that Megan seemed comfortable enough in the presence of a male policeman, and said he wanted to ask her a
“No. Let’s meet at the hotel.” She looked at her watch. “There’s a bus at ten-fifteen.”
“All right. I’ll be waiting for you.”
III
“These are the dormitories for the boarding pupils,” Dr Green pointed out as they walked through the school grounds. The two large buildings ahead were of far more recent construction than the main school building, redbrick for the most part, with some stone at their bases, functional rather than aesthetically pleasing. “As I said earlier, we have 286 boarders. They have showers, central heating, all the comforts the modern child requires. You’ll also notice we have installed a number of lamps along all the major pathways. They’re kept on until ten o’clock every night, by which time all the girls are expected to be in bed. This isn’t Lowood or Dotheboys, you realize. Parents spend a lot of money to send their children here.”
“Television?”
She smiled. “Yes, that too.”
“What’s that building over there?” Banks pointed through the trees to a three-storey rectangular building that seemed to be made of some sort of prefabricated concrete the colour of porridge.
“That’s the staff residence, I’m afraid,” said Dr Green. “Ugly isn’t it? Actually, it’s quite nice inside. The flats are quite spacious: living-room, bedroom, storage heaters. Luxury.”
“Who lives there, apart from you?”
“At the moment, six of the flats are occupied. It all depends. We have thirty members of staff, a very good ratio, and some of our teachers live in or near town. The flats are essentially for single members of staff who have recently moved into the area, or, as in my case, single teachers who want to maintain close contact with the school.” She tilted her umbrella and gave Banks a challenging glance from under the rim. “You asked me rather impertinently notso long ago whether I lived alone. The school is my life, Chief Inspector. I have neither the inclination nor the time for anyone or anything else.”
Banks nodded. Then he sneezed. Susan blessed him.
“Here we are,” Dr Green went on, stepping under the porch of the dormitory and lowering her umbrella. She shook it carefully before rolling it up. “The infirmary is on the ground floor. We have one full-time nurse on staff and a local doctor on call.”
They walked down the hall and entered the infirmary. It smelled of disinfectant. After a brief word with the nurse, Dr Green directed Banks and Susan towards a row of curtained cubicles, in one of which Megan Preece lay on a narrow bed.
“Megan’s fine, nurse says,” Dr Green whispered. “But she’s had a terrible shock and she’s been given a mild tranquillizer, so please go slowly.”
Banks nodded. There clearly wasn’t room for all of them in the cubicle, yet Dr Green seemed to want to stay.
“It’s all right,” Banks said, ushering Susan to Megan’s bedside chair. “We’ll find our own way out when we’ve finished.”
Dr Green stood for a moment and frowned, then she nodded, turned on her heel and clicked away down the corridor.
When Banks found a chair for himself, Susan was already talking to Megan, reassuring her that everything would be all right. From what Banks could see of the head poking above the grey blanket, Megan was a slight, thin girl of about Deborah Harrison’s age, with dark curly hair and a tanned complexion.
But Megan’s features lacked whatever cohesion or symmetry it took to make her conventionally pretty, unlike her friend Deborah, who had been beautiful in that lissom, blonde, athletic sort of way. Megan’s nose was a little too big, and slightly crooked; her lips were too thin, and her mouth was too small for her teeth. But her big, serious earth-brown eyes were striking; they seemed to capture you at first glance and draw you to her.
Banks introduced himself, noting that Megan seemed comfortable enough in the presence of a male policeman, and said he wanted to ask her a
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