by GS Rhodes
“Schools have a habit of doing that,” Zoe said. “I remember going back to get a reference for this job at my old secondary school and it still smelled the same. It was grim, brought back way too many memories.”
“You’re not exactly encouraging me here, Zoe.”
She shrugged, starting the engine. “You started it!”
The drive didn’t take all that long, following the one-way system out towards Richmond, pulling into a set of very familiar gates (though with a seemingly fresh lick of paint) and an all too familiar car park. Kidd looked up at the school. It still managed to look imposing, even after all these years. Across the front of the main school building were a lot of windows and you could see students milling about inside, but every pair of windows was like a pair of eyes, staring at you, taking you in. You never quite knew who was watching. To say it was unnerving would be an understatement.
“Shake it off, Kidd,” Zoe said as she shut off the engine, leaning back in her seat. “What’s the game plan here?”
Kidd took a moment, getting his thoughts in order. “Game plan is to go in there and get as much information as we can about Sarah. Everything on her social media channels is showing nothing but a perfect life, nothing at all going on that seems in any way out of the ordinary.”
“That’s social media though,” Zoe said with a shrug. “It’s a highlight reel, no one is ever really telling the truth, are they?”
Kidd considered this. “I suppose not,” he said. “But we need to try and establish what was really going on, figure out some kind of timeline so we know what she was doing, really get inside her head.”
“You think this is the place to do it?”
“Well, she spends more time here than she does anywhere else,” Kidd said. “Even more time here than at home really. Nine until three, Monday to Friday, that’s a whole lot of life. There will be people here that know things. Her friends will know things, they have to.”
He wasn’t certain of a lot of things in this case, but he was certain that there would be at least one friend that knew what was going on with her.
Zoe nodded. “Let’s get going then.”
They got out of the car and started towards the front doors and the reception area. It was a path that Kidd had walked many times before, throwing him right back to when he was in his youth and showing up late after oversleeping or an argument with his parents, having to sign in at the front office instead of going to his form class, being threatened with detentions and demerits every other day.
The hardest part was that Liz hadn’t gone to the same school. It might have been easier, or maybe he would have had happier memories if he’d been able to share the experience with a sibling. But Liz had been way too clever for this school. She’d ended up at a grammar school in Richmond. It took her an age to get there and back, but she excelled, their parents were obsessed with her for it.
Kidd opened the reception doors and was hit with a blast of warm air as he stepped inside, and then that same smell that would probably stay with him for the rest of his life. It was a combination of carpet cleaner, furniture polish, and some kind of air freshener that was probably the cheapest that could be found in bulk. There was also the lingering smell of sweat, something that most schools probably struggled to hide most of the time.
He walked to the glass window, a portal to some of the teacher’s offices within. There were people in there tapping away at computers, drinking coffee, chatting to one another. No one noticed his presence until he cleared his throat.
“Sorry about that!” A woman cooed as she tottered over. She was wearing a name badge that marked her out as Ms Lu, her black and white streaked hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her glasses on a chain around her neck. Kidd couldn’t age her. She was simultaneously a child and a grandmother. “What can I do for you? Are you signing in?”
“No,” Kidd replied. “We’re—”
“Is this a visit?” Ms Lu chirped excitedly. “Are you looking at this school for your child?”
DS Sanchez choked on the air while Kidd struggled to keep a straight face.
“No, not at all,” Kidd replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his warrant card, pressing it against the window so that Ms Lu could see it was definitely him. “I’m DI Benjamin Kidd, this is DS Zoe Sanchez.” She’d managed to get her breath back and waved at Ms Lu. “We’re here to talk to the headteacher, and then some students if possible. It’s about the disappearance of Sarah Harper.”
All the excitement she had greeted them with fell from her face. She looked suddenly unspeakably sad. “Gosh, yes, horrible business that,” she said softly. “Such a sweet girl, never had a bad word to say about anyone, can’t imagine why...” She trailed off and sniffed. Was she crying? “To take her away? Who would do such a thing?”
Kidd cleared his throat. “It really is an awful business, Ms Lu, but we’re here to figure out her movements prior to her disappearance, try and find her if we can,” he said. He wasn’t in the business of making anybody false promises, but he would certainly do his best to bring her back in one piece. It seemed to placate her a little because she offered him a small smile.
“If you would like to take a seat,” she said, gesturing across to a pair of blue chairs. “I’ll go and grab Ms Chowdhury, she’s the headteacher, wonderful woman, and she will take you through to her office. Won’t be a moment.”
Ms Lu scurried away, leaving DI Kidd and DS Sanchez to sit on the blue cushioned chairs in the reception area. There was a TV screen up in the corner displaying students’ work, a couple of school news items, and reminders for students of the school rules. It felt like a little bit much, and definitely felt out of place in an office that had stagnated over time.
“Can’t believe she thought we were a couple,” DS Sanchez whispered.
“I know,” Kidd grumbled. “I’d rather not think about it if I’m honest.”
“Rude.”
“Excuse me?” He looked at her, incredulous.
“Well, what’s so wrong with the two of us being a couple?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye that told him immediately that she was messing with him. He wasn’t really in the mood to be messed with.
“DI Kidd, DS Sanchez.” The voice caused them to turn their heads towards the door where an Indian woman was standing in a maroon, Hilary Clinton-esque power suit. Her hands her folded neatly in front of her and she was fixing them both with a sweet smile, though it didn’t quite make its way to her eyes. “Sorry to keep you waiting, would you like to come with me?”
She was soft spoken, not the kind of person DI Kidd thought would be a headteacher. The headteachers he had encountered over his years in school were 1) usually men and 2) gruff types who were in positions of power and determined to scare the living daylights out of you with a single, withering stare. Ms Chowdhury seemed the exact opposite of that.
She led them through a door that Ms Lu had to buzz them through, guiding them through a labyrinth of desks to a large, secluded office. There was one window off to the side, large, letting in a huge amount of light. The walls were painted sky blue, relaxing but cold. She gestured to the two seats opposite her desk and took a seat herself, leaning back slightly in front of a wall covered in books, a couple of trophies, and framed certificates. It looked like she was setting up for a photo-op rather than a discussion.
Kidd took a seat in one of the chairs, immediately sinking down into it. She was seated higher than he was, which he didn’t like, the squashy chair he was in making it almost impossible to get comfortable.
“Ms Lu tells me that you’re here to talk about Sarah Harper?” Her inflection went up at the end like a question, but she knew exactly why they were there. She had to have been expecting them.
“Yes, Ms Chowdhury,” DI Kidd said, struggling to the edge of his seat so he could get somewhat comfortable. He still wasn’t, but at least now his knees weren’t positioned by his ears. “It was reported to us last night that she was missi
ng—”
“Yes, she caused quite a stir when she didn’t show up for school yesterday,” Ms Chowdhury said, stopping short of rolling her eyes, which Kidd found more than a little off-putting. One of her students is missing and she doesn’t seem to care. “I imagine she will show up in a day or two.”
Ben blinked. What is she talking about?
“Do you?” DS Sanchez asked, filling in for Ben’s silence. “What makes you say that?”
Ms Chowdhury smiled, leaning forward in her chair to lock eyes with DS Sanchez. “This isn’t my first rodeo, DS Sanchez,” she said. “And it certainly isn’t Sarah’s.”
“She’s disappeared before?” DI Kidd asked, taking out a notebook and quickly jotting that down.
“This is one in a series of disappearing acts made by Sarah Harper over her years at this school,” Ms Chowdhury said, placing her hand delicately on her mouse and clicking a few times on her desktop. “It happened when she was in Year 9, twice in Year 10, and in Autumn term of Year 11 she had already managed three.”
“She’d vanished three times?”
Someone should have bloody mentioned that, Kidd thought. They were starting to look like amateurs here.
“Like I said, DI Kidd, it’s a habit of hers,” Ms Chowdhury said. “When something happens at school that she doesn’t agree with or she doesn’t get her way, she takes it upon herself to make a dramatic exit and show everyone who’s boss. It’s about control.”
“Is it?” DS Sanchez asked.
“Absolutely,” the headteacher said firmly. “She disappears for a day then returns as if nothing has even happened, her friends fawning over her, any problem she was having miraculously solved.”
“But then, why is this the first time she’s been reported missing?” DI Kidd asked. It didn’t make sense. If Sarah had a habit of vanishing into thin air, why would her parents not have reported it before? “What’s different?”
“That’s what you’re trying to figure out, isn’t it DI Kidd?”
It was a verbal slap that Ben wasn’t expecting. He took a moment to right himself. He hadn’t expected to be battling with the bloody headteacher to get information about Sarah. Though, Ben supposed, she was giving away perhaps a lot more than she thought. It just wasn’t about Sarah.
“Something like that,” he said, holding her gaze. She had intense eyes, a sort of burnt hazel colour that she was probably used to using to unnerve her students. Maybe she didn’t need to raise her voice when she could fix them with a stare like that. Kidd, however, was not about to crack.
Ms Chowdhury broke off first and turned back to her computer screen. “Normally, Sarah would go missing midweek and reappear a day or two later,” she said. “I imagine that doesn’t quite line up this time?”
“Sarah Harper has been missing for somewhere around four days,” DI Kidd said, irritated at how nonchalant the headteacher was being. Seeing someone in a position of power barely batting an eye at one of their charges vanishing was unnerving, to say the least. “She last made contact with her parents on Friday morning. She came to school and after that nothing. Do you know what might have led her to do a ‘disappearing act’ as you called it?”
She turned to him sharply and raised a perfectly drawn-on eyebrow. She wasn’t used to people talking back. But Kidd refused to be intimidated by her.
“Sarah Harper was dramatic,” Ms Chowdhury said.
“You mentioned,” DS Sanchez interjected with a poisonous smile.
“Well, as such, the drama followed her around,” she said. “There was always something happening, whether it would be at home or with her friends or with her boyfriend.” She started tapping away on her computer, not saying another word for a minute or so. Kidd was starting to wonder if they had been dismissed without him realising, until she took hold of the screen and turned it toward them. “I think this might have been what sparked it.”
“Jesus Christ,” Kidd blurted.
CHAPTER EIGHT
On the screen in front of them was something that looked like a gossip website. It was a screenshot from a webpage with several pictures of Sarah on it. She was kissing a boy in one of the photos, caressing his face in another, the boy’s hand squeezing her bum in another. Whoever had taken that photo had really zoomed in for it. It was grim.
Across the top of the page read: EXPOSED! SARAH’S CHEATING WAYS ON DISPLAY FOR THE WORLD TO SEE! NOT SO SWEET NOW!
Ms Chowdhury pulled the screen back towards her, tutted, and clicked to remove it from her desktop.
“That appeared on Thursday, the day before Sarah vanished,” Ms Chowdhury said. “We know that there were several arguments that broke out between Sarah and her friends, also with her boyfriend, though we are yet to find the identity of the person who posted these things about her.”
“We’re going to need a link to that website—”
“It’s been taken down,” Ms Chowdhury interrupted.
“Then any screenshots you have will be useful,” DI Kidd said. “And we’re going to need the names of anyone who knew Sarah. We would like to talk to them today.”
“They’re in classes—”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“They have lessons—”
“There is a teenage girl missing, Ms Chowdhury,” DI Kidd said plainly, struggling to believe that he was having to spell this out to an educator, to a headteacher of all people. “We don’t know where she is, and yes, this may not be out of the ordinary for her to do for a day or so, but Sarah has been missing for the past four days. She has had no contact with her family whatsoever, so we need to know if there is anyone here who has made contact with her.”
There was a silence that fell on the room, Ms Chowdhury staring at DI Kidd with an open mouth, not really knowing what to say. So DI Kidd took up the mantle once again.
“If you could find us a room somewhere so that we could talk to the students, that would be wonderful,” he said. “If you would prefer there be a member of staff present as well, that’s fine, but we would like to get this investigation moving. Any holdups that we have here could hinder our efforts to find Sarah, do you understand?”
A silence pushed its way between them, Kidd eyeballing Ms Chowdhury as she sat there stony-faced. She certainly wasn’t used to being spoken to like that but Kidd was ready to explode. How could she not care?
Ms Chowdhury nodded, backing down. “I will set up one of the spare offices for you and have Ms Lu go and collect the children from their classes one at a time.” She pressed a few buttons on her computer, the printer behind her desk spitting out a copy of the website she had shown them a few moments ago.
Kidd folded it and put it in his pocket, waiting for Ms Chowdhury to finish whatever it was she was tapping out on the computer. Eventually, she got up from behind her desk, DI Kidd and DS Sanchez following suit, and without another word, led them out of her office and into the office next door.
It was almost identical to Ms Chowdhury’s but for the lack of books and certificates on the walls. It would have looked like an interview room down at the station were it not for the brightly coloured blue walls and the large window. The interview rooms at the station had a tendency to get quite claustrophobic. No chance of that here.
“Thank you, Ms Chowdhury,” DI Kidd said as she scurried out of the room. When she’d closed the door behind her, DS Sanchez rounded on him, her face alight. She looked like she wanted to drag Ms Chowdhury back in here for round two.
“Well, that was certainly a battle,” she said.
“I know.”
“Did she even care?” she said. “What’s that about?”
“It just wasn’t getting through to her,” he said, looking at the door as if she were about to walk back in. “Even when we mentioned Sarah had been missing, she was batting away questions, batting away anything that would actually help us.”
“It was odd,” DS Sanchez said. “It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that she had something to do with
it, you know.”
“You mean if Sarah isn’t being dramatic and flouncing off for a couple of days,” DI Kidd said with a raise of his eyebrow. “You’re not wrong. She didn’t seem to like her much.”
“Which is odd when Ms Lu was practically in tears at the very mention of Sarah’s name.”
“I know,” DI Kidd said, staring out the window and looking at the car park. He hadn’t expected that kind of reaction from Ms Chowdhury. But, he supposed, he hadn’t expected Sarah to have done disappearing acts on a regular basis. Though it was certainly possible that her parents didn’t know about them, or had her staying off sick at home or something. The interview with the parents was certainly going to help them in all this.
“What about that website?” DS Sanchez said. “Whoever posted that obviously has it out for Sarah.”
“It’s one thing to have a healthy dislike for someone, but to post about it? To go out and look for evidence—”
“I think the kids call them receipts.”
“Receipts, then,” DI Kidd said. “That’s vicious. There’s something in that for sure, we just need to find out exactly who it was that did it.”
“But the website has been deleted.”
Kidd shrugged. “The tech bods will have a way to figure it out
They waited a little while longer, DS Sanchez fielding a lengthy call from DC Campbell—where he almost certainly asked her out again given the number of times DS Sanchez said, “No, no, for the last bloody time Campbell, no!”—during which he gave them the address for Sarah Harper’s parents. She told him they would make it there by early afternoon.
DI Kidd’s phone pinged in his pocket. A message from John.
JOHN: We still on for 1?
DI Kidd checked the time on his phone. It was already getting on for eleven. Given the amount of time this was going to take, and if they were going to be at Sarah’s parents’ house for the early afternoon, it wasn’t looking likely.
