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was a random piece of violence. You would no doubt agree that there are plenty of those in the world today. Not least because the schools and the police, rather than the society which employs us, get blamed for most of them.’
    Lambert gave her a small, companionable smile at the comment, wondering whether it was a stock reaction or a diversionary tactic. ‘Very few pieces of serious violence are random, I’m afraid. There are three possible connections with this killing. Mr Logan’s home life, his working life, or some secret private life outside both of those. The home life and the working life are much the most likely areas of connection. Hence our presence here this afternoon.’
    She looked at them for a moment, then nodded reluctantly, as if accepting the logic of his assertion. ‘I shall be extremely surprised if Peter Logan’s death was connected with his life in the school.’
    â€˜So you can’t immediately suggest any members of your staff to whom we should give particular attention?’
    â€˜No. My relationship with Peter was a close professional one. Like everyone else, I am full of admiration for what he has achieved at Greenwood. But we didn’t see much of each other outside working hours. I’ve met his wife on school occasions but, as I say, Peter and I didn’t socialize much outside our work. No doubt you will unearth people in due course who can tell you much more than me about the private side of Peter Logan’s life.’
    She had a few more ideas than she was admitting to, Lambert was sure, but this wasn’t the moment to press her. The school bells were ringing for the end of the day. And he was going to need this woman’s co-operation as his murder team came and went within the school during the next few days.
    He contented himself with saying, ‘Possible lines of inquiry may suggest themselves to you, when you have had a little more time to yourself. Please get in touch with me personally if they do, even if the people involved seem most unlikely possibilities.’ Without meaning to, he had spoken as stiffly as she had.
    Ten minutes later, she took them into the school’s assembly hall to meet the staff. Lambert had asked that all the ancillary staff, the lab assistants, clerical staff, librarians and caretakers should come as well as the teaching staff. There were over a hundred people in the room. Schools had become a lot larger since his day, he thought ruefully.
    It was rather like addressing a public meeting. Lambert explained that members of the CID team would be collecting preliminary statements from most of the people in the room over the next twenty-four hours. He was certain that everyone was as anxious as he was that the perpetrator of this brutal killing should be brought to justice as swiftly as possible. To that end, anyone who had any thoughts on the murder, however outlandish they might seem, should stay behind now and talk to him immediately.
    In particular, he would be interested if there was anyone in the room who could throw any light on why their late head teacher had gone to the park where he had been killed. There was an electric silence after this request. He caught one or two swiftly exchanged glances among his audience. He invited questions or observations, but received none.
    No one came to speak to him when the meeting broke up.
    â€˜Go away! Just bugger off, will you! We’ve nothing to say, so leave us alone!’ The youth had desperation in his voice. Having to act as the man of the house had come too suddenly for him.
    â€˜We’re not press,’ said Lambert sympathetically, showing his warrant card. ‘I’m sorry we have to come at a time like this, but we do need a few words with your mother.’
    The young man hesitated, looked for a moment as if he would bar their way. From the hall behind him, his mother’s voice said, ‘It’s all right, Matt. Let them in, if