A Deadly Lesson. Paul Gitsham

took longer to correct the computer’s mistakes than it would have taken to handwrite his notes with a pen and notepad and then type them up.

      ‘The school is in a residential area, can you arrange for some door-knocking, Hutch? It was dark, and most folks probably had their curtains closed, but you never know.’

      ‘No problem.’ Hutchinson was a pen and paper man, like Warren, although his two-fingered typing was so slow he only transcribed his notes when he absolutely had to.

      ‘What about the pupils?’ asked Ruskin.

      ‘Interviewing all of them isn’t really practical. However, there will be a team of counsellors coming in later today to comfort pupils and staff. We will also be setting up a hotline for people to call with any information they might have, in confidence if necessary.’ Warren’s mouth twisted slightly. ‘My wife is a teacher and she says that schools run on caffeine and gossip. Hopefully, any useful information won’t be buried too deeply.’

      He paused, before addressing his team.

      ‘Unless we find something very early on, this is going to be a big investigation. Middlesbury CID will be taking the lead as usual, and Detective Superintendent Grayson has already delegated the role of Senior Investigation Officer to me, with DI Sutton second-in-charge. DSI Grayson is down at headquarters organising extra bodies and support. He’ll likely spend most of his time at Welwyn, liaising with the chief officer team and the press. I don’t need to tell you how high profile this case is likely to be.’

      Warren didn’t envy his boss that role; even for someone as political as John Grayson, the media interest would mean that the force’s every move would be subject to intense, not always flattering, scrutiny. Warren remembered all too well the fallout from the summer’s tumultuous events. He hoped they could wrap up the case quickly enough to prevent the brewing media storm from gaining too much energy.

      * * *

      Sacred Heart Catholic Academy’s Senior Leadership Team reflected the school’s relatively small size. With only six hundred pupils, plus a small sixth form, the school was run by one head teacher, one deputy head and two assistant heads, all of whom had been in attendance at the monthly late-night SLT meeting where Jillian Gwinnett had last been seen alive. Warren had decided to prioritise interviews with the SLT, along with the chair of the school’s governing body. To minimise collaboration between potential co-conspirators, the interviews were taking place simultaneously.

      ‘The SLT meets for about two hours every Wednesday after school during term-time. In addition, the first Monday of each month is an extended meeting for about three hours. Sometimes members of the governing body are invited to attend, although none of us were present yesterday evening.’

      Father Jim Beresford was a vigorous looking man in his mid-sixties, with a shock of white hair. Chair of governors for the past nine years, he had been on the interview panel that had promoted Jillian Gwinnett to deputy head.

      ‘Just a formality, of course, but would you be able to tell me your whereabouts on Monday night, Father?’

      ‘I was in all night. I did some shopping that afternoon, then went home. I like to be prepared ahead of time, so I wrote the outline for next Sunday’s sermon. Then I read for a bit, watched the news and went to bed early.’

      ‘Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts?’

      Beresford looked uncomfortable.

      ‘I’m very sorry, DCI Jones, but I’m afraid there isn’t anyone. I live alone, and I didn’t have any visitors that evening.’

      Warren looked at the man appraisingly, before smiling politely.

      ‘Not to worry, Father, I’m sure we’ll be able to eliminate you from our inquiries easily enough. Now tell me about Ms Gwinnett.’

      ‘Jill was an exceptional teacher of Religious Studies. I had the pleasure of observing one of her A level lessons recently and it was inspiring. Before she took on her current role, she was a very successful year head, taking a cohort all the way through from joining in year seven to the best GCSE exam results we’ve ever had. However, I think it was in her role as a member of the Senior Leadership Team that she really excelled.’

      ‘I believe that she was appointed as deputy head at the same time as Noah Ball was brought in as head?’ said Warren.

      Father Beresford’s mouth twisted slightly. ‘They were difficult days, DCI Jones. We had just been judged as “Requires Improvement” by OFSTED. A diocesan inspection the same year was also rather damning. It was decided that the school needed fresh leadership. The former head teacher Russell Leigh agreed to take early retirement along with the then deputy head, and most of the governing body stepped down.’

      ‘Except for you.’

      Beresford smiled tightly. ‘I had only been in post for six months and had been moved in from a successful school in Stevenage; the verdicts from OFSTED and the diocese were disappointing but not a complete surprise. It was decided that I would oversee the transition to a new leadership team.’

      ‘I see.’

      Warren decided to change tack slightly.

      ‘Tell me more about Ms Gwinnett. Help me understand her as a person.’

      The priest was silent for a few seconds, before pushing air through his lips.

      ‘Jill was a very good leader. Very good. And she knew it. She and Noah Ball turned this school around in spectacular fashion and much of that was Jill’s doing.’

      ‘I imagine that such a major change of direction for a school was not without its… challenges.’

      Beresford gave a sigh.

      ‘There were some who felt that the pace of change was too rapid, and not everyone agreed with the school’s new direction. Some staff chose to move on, whilst others eventually accepted that was how it needed to be.’

      ‘And what about Ms Gwinnett’s appointment as deputy head?’

      ‘Jill had already been a well-respected year head for several years at the school. She wasn’t a member of the SLT at the time of the inspections and so wasn’t held accountable for the school’s shortcomings. It was decided that her appointment as deputy head would provide much needed continuity, whilst the school adjusted to Noah Ball’s leadership. Largely speaking, I would say her appointment was met with approval by the school community.’

      ‘And what about more recently?’

      Beresford paused. ‘This is not for public consumption, you understand?’

      ‘I can’t make any promises, but I will be as discreet as possible.’

      ‘In answer to your question, Noah Ball is nearing retirement. He’ll be sixty in nine months’ time. When that happens, Jill would have had a very good chance of being appointed his successor.’

      ‘I would have thought that such a position has to be opened up to a public interview?’

      ‘Of course. But the opinion of the governing body holds a lot of sway in these matters.’

      Warren wasn’t sure what the relevance of the information was, but something told him it was important.

      * * *

      Matthew Waring was ambitious, that much was obvious. Barely seven years into his teaching career and he’d already had a stint as head of Geography, and eighteen months previously had been made an assistant head; all before his thirtieth birthday. He too had been present at Monday night’s SLT meeting, and was in interview suite two opposite DI Tony Sutton.

      ‘I last saw Jill a little after six-thirty. I went back to her office with her for a quick chat before leaving for the day.’

      ‘What time was that?’ asked Sutton.

      ‘About quarter to seven, I suppose, perhaps a little later.’

      ‘Did