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There was a stunned silence before a murmur spread around the room like a bush fire. Horton's eyes flicked around the occupants: he registered shock and bafflement. Neil Cyrus glanced across at him with a slightly alarmed expression on his round features. Perhaps he was trying to recall his conversation with them earlier to see if he had said anything that might implicate him. Bill Ashling's face flushed, his eyes darted about nervously; Janet Downton looked righteous and smug. Susan Pentlow looked as though she was going to faint, and Timothy Boston looked set to catch her if she did. He put a comforting hand on her arm.

Edney held up his hands for silence, and was immediately obeyed.

'The police will need to take statements from you. You are to give them your full co-operation. The sooner they find the culprit for Ms Langley's death, the sooner the school can return to normal.'

He had stumbled over the word death, but there was no talk of justice. No expression of sadness. At least, Horton thought, he couldn't accuse the man of being a hypocrite.

'The media attention this incident will bring us is, of course, unwelcome,' Edney went on, 'but there's little we can do about it. We must ride the storm. A statement will be issued immediately after this announcement. If journalists approach any of you, you are to refer them to me. On no account must you speak to the press unless you have been given my express permission to do so. This is merely to safeguard the school. We all know how the media can twist even the most simplest and innocent of remarks.'

There was a slight murmur and shifting of positions, which made Horton think that Edney had been caught out once or twice. He had some sympathy with him, recalling his own brush with the media after the fall-out from Operation Extra.

'I ask you all to remain here. Anyone unable to stay, please give your details to the officers and they will take your statements tomorrow. I'm sorry that you might have to come into school on a Saturday morning, but with half term next week it gives us a chance to get the school back to some kind of normality before the new term commences. Do you have anything to add, Inspector?'

Edney swivelled his gaze to Horton, so did everyone else. The door behind Cantelli opened and uniformed and non-uniformed officers entered.

'I am Detective Inspector Horton, and in charge of this inquiry.' But not for long, said a small voice in the back of Horton's mind. He angrily pushed it away. 'It is important for us to build as clear a picture as we can of Ms Langley and, of course, her movements in the last hours of her life.'

He noticed a small moon-faced man taking off his spectacles and polishing them with vigour. An athletically built fair-haired man in his early thirties, wearing a school sweatshirt, rubbed his nose and stared downwards.

'I need hardly add that murder is an ugly business and this death tragic.' Somehow he felt he owed it to Jessica Langley to stress that someone should feel sadness at her premature loss of life. 'I, and my team, shall make every effort to catch whoever is responsible for Ms Langley's death. If anyone knows anything about her family, or was a special friend of hers, then I would be very interested to talk to you. Thank you.'

Most in the room burst into animated discussion, but Susan Pentlow wasn't one of them. As Horton headed towards her, the crowd parted before him, making him feel like Moses at the Red Sea.

'Mrs Pentlow, could we have a word?'

She started violently, let out a gasp and looked so alarmed that he thought she might faint. With a terrified expression she glanced up at her Cary Grant.

Taking his cue, he said protectively, 'Susan isn't feeling very well. She's had a terrible shock. We all have. Can't this wait?'

'It won't take a moment.' Horton reached out a hand to guide Susan away from the tanned, good-looking teacher, wondering if there was something going on between them.

Boston scowled at him and then turned to Susan. In a gentle voice that didn't quite ring true with Horton, he said, 'Would you like me to come with you?' His eyes flicked to Horton's and were full of hostility, as if he thought Horton was going to torture the hapless Susan or clap her in irons.

Susan Pentlow made an effort to pull herself together. 'No, I'll be fine.'

Boston squeezed her arm. 'That's my girl.'

Horton thought she'd bristle at Boston's patronizing tone, but she responded with a twitch of her lips that Horton interpreted as a nervous smile. Boston spoke again before Horton could steer her away from her knight in shining armour. 'What will happen about the building works? Only it's imperative that it be completed on time.'

Horton studied Boston, the man was so full of his own self-importance that Horton would have thought he was the deputy head and not Edney. Horton replied, 'We will do our best not to hold up the development any longer than necessary, sir. Why do you ask?'

'It's my project and it means a lot to the kids and to the future of the school. It also meant a great deal to Ms Langley. I wouldn't want to see it ruined and neither would she.'

So that explained his attitude. Horton guessed it wasn't so much Langley that Boston was thinking of, rather he was worried about seeing his moment of glory slipping away. This was confirmed by Boston's next words. 'Confidentially, Inspector, we have a royal personage lined up to open it.'

Edney hadn't mentioned that. Horton managed to extricate Susan Pentlow from Boston. 'Let's step outside for a moment,' he suggested.

Again eyes travelled with them and a low murmur accompanied their passage across the room.

Horton pushed back the door of the classroom opposite. 'Would you like a seat?'

She shook her head. 'No.'

Horton perched himself on the table at the head of the room, trying to put the woman at ease by adopting a relaxed approach, but he felt like a teacher with a trembling pupil in front of him.

'Ms Langley was wearing a black trouser suit yesterday. Was it usual for her to wear black to school?'

Her eyes came up like a petrified rabbit caught in the glare of headlights. 'No. She only wore it when she had a business meeting to attend, or when-'

'Yes?' Horton encouraged gently. Cantelli was right, here was a woman on the edge.

'When she had to discipline someone.'

'And did she discipline anyone yesterday?' Horton wondered if that person could then have killed her for revenge. He had to keep an open mind and consider all theories until he had more evidence. Had Tom Edney been the person who had been disciplined?

'I don't know.'

Horton scrutinized her. Was she telling the truth? If Langley had hauled someone over the coals then she would have done it in her office and Janet Downton would have seen who that was.

'Did she have any meetings scheduled for yesterday after school?'

'I didn't keep her diary. She never said… She was such a fantastic person.' Susan Pentlow began to cry.

'Just one more thing,' Horton said gently. He didn't think he'd get much more from her now. 'Did Ms Langley talk about any special friends, or boyfriends?'

Susan Pentlow shook her head. She couldn't speak for her tears.

Horton rose. 'Would you like to sit down? Can I get you a drink?'

Again she shook her head.

'I'll get someone to help you,' he said, wondering if Timothy Boston was loitering outside ready to lend his arm for her to lean on, and his shoulder for her to cry on.

'No,' she finally managed to stammer as Horton opened the door. With a visible effort she pulled herself together. 'I'm sorry. It's the shock. I'll be OK.'

'Perhaps it would be better if you were to make your statement tomorrow.' He thought they might get more sense out of her then. This woman probably worked the closest with Langley, being the school's business manager. She didn't come across as the sort of business manager that Horton expected; yet Langley must have thought something of her skills to have promoted her.