Ray settled into a chair directly in front of her desk. He had seen Helen before—Ian Warrington had introduced her at the staff meeting—but it wasn’t until she was sitting across the desk that he had an opportunity to observe her closely. In spite of her cloying perfume, Ray could smell the cigarette smoke that clung to her, and there was something else, too, a sweet spirituous odor.
And only a little after ten
, Ray thought as he glanced at his watch.
Must be having some brandy with her coffee.
He looked at the covered, stainless steel travel cup on her desk and wondered what it really contained.
Ray examined her profile, everything perfectly proportioned —delicate and feminine. Incipient creases and wrinkles were softened by skillfully applied makeup. Her thick, shoulder-length blond hair was tied off in back with a black leather wrap, and each ear was adorned with a delicate gold hoop. Her skirt and blouse, neatly pressed, were classically casual. Ray noted that everything about her dress and grooming was flawless, perhaps too flawless. She radiated a brittle tension.
As she worked, her delicate fingers flew across the keys. With the exception of the keyboard and flat-screen display, her desk’s surface was clear, as was the top of the bird’s-eye maple credenza behind her. Ray looked around the office; the furniture was Bauhaus and classic modern in design, new and obviously expensive, but there was nothing of her in the room, nothing personal, not a knickknack, or a photo, or a college diploma. Ray thought it looked like a newly created space, a flawless movie set waiting for characters.
“Sorry for the delay, sheriff,” she finally said, making eye contact. “I was responding to a rather frantic e-mail from some parents living abroad. One of their friends e-mailed them a news report about Ashleigh’s death. It wasn’t supposed to work that way, but we had difficulty reaching them.”
“You have a plan for… ”
“Yes, that was one of the first things Ian did after he arrived. The previous administration had never developed contingency plans for any kind of emergencies. We’ve tried to identify various kinds of disasters we might have, like a fire, or an accident involving a school vehicle, or even something like food poisoning. And then we developed a response plan, identifying the resources that would be needed and who would be responsible. Getting information to the parents, hopefully before they heard from the media, was a basic part of this planning.”
Ray noted how carefully she articulated each word; every sentence was precisely formed, and she maintained eye contact with him as she delivered her lines.
“How did you first learn about Ms. Allen’s death?” he asked.
“Ian told me what happened as soon as he returned from the beach, and I started drafting a phone script. Right after the meeting with faculty and staff, the people who are part of the phone fan-out started making calls to parents. Everyone read from the same prepared script. We gave the parents the facts as we knew them, made it clear that the deaths took place away from campus, and assured them that their children were in no danger.”
“And who did the calling?”
“Our dorm parents, Sarah James, myself, and several faculty members who are part of this team.”
“What about Dr. Warrington?”
“We didn’t want him tied up with this because we knew that a number of parents would want to talk directly with him after they heard the news.” Helen looked at Ray with tired eyes. “And they did, many more than we had anticipated.”
“And the e-mail?”
“We have a number of parents who live abroad; most of them work for American or multinational corporations, and there are a few people who are with the State Department or NGOs. We used e-mail for this group, backed by phone calls. The parents I was just responding to,” she motioned toward the computer screen, “are in Kazakhstan, ExxonMobil Oil. They had some real concerns about their daughter’s safety. I was reassuring them that she is in no danger.”
She looked at Ray. “That’s true, isn’t it sheriff?”
Ray ignored her almost-accusatorial tone. “Tell me, Mrs. Warrington, when did you last see Ashleigh Allen?”
“I saw her every day, or almost every day when school was in session. She was part of the environment; I can’t say when I last saw her, sometime last week I imagine.”
“On a normal school day, when would you see her?”
She pondered the question. “Noon, lunch. She was usually having lunch with her students. Most of the faculty sits together, but not Ashleigh. She liked to be surrounded by her students. It was a sign of her insecurity.”
Ray listened intently, showing no emotion. He noted her patronizing tone and wondered why she was taking the conversation in this direction.
“Insecurity, how so?” he asked.
“Some of the kids doted on her, and she needed that. She couldn’t even take time out and have lunch with the adults. And she made a big thing out of it, like she cared more about the students than the rest of us.”
“I sense you felt that… ”
“Sheriff, there are two worlds here—the adolescents and the adults. And it’s wonderful when members of the faculty and staff are close to the students. I mean, that’s what we’re about. But the faculty, the adults, aren’t one with the students. They’re responsible for the students’ education. Ashleigh crossed the line. She used her relationship with her students to take care of her own psychological needs. And in the process she manipulated the kids to get their affection.”
Ray held her gaze and didn’t respond.
“Sheriff, I have a Ph.D. in clinical psychology,” she continued in an authoritative tone. “I am well-versed in these matters. Ashleigh’s behavior was probably damaging to some of the more fragile students, especially some of the boys. She was sending them inappropriate messages, things that they couldn’t understand.”
“Could you be more specific?” he asked. He noted perspiration was starting to distort her perfectly applied cosmetics and the nonchalant façade she seemed to be trying hard to maintain. Ray wondered what lay beneath Helen’s veneer of perfection. Was she aware of Ashleigh’s affair with Ian? If she knew, what was just beneath her surface: a roiling anger, or a stoic denial of something so tawdry in her flawless, manicured world?
“Yes. Ashleigh was—what’s the term you men use—a tease,” Helen said. “The boys didn’t have the maturity to understand what was going on.”
“Are you suggesting that she might have been involved with some of the boys?” Ray’s voice had a tinge of defensiveness in it, he realized, startled. Thankfully, Helen seemed not to notice. He breathed in and regained composure.
“No, no, not at all,” Helen said. “What I am saying is that she sent signals that were misinterpreted by some of the more vulnerable boys. She knew what she was doing. Her actions left them confused and sometimes hurt; but kept them as loyal supplicants.”
“I sense you didn’t like Ashleigh?”
“Sheriff, I neither liked her or disliked her. Actually, I was quite indifferent to her.”
Ray sensed disdain in her voice.
“But” she continued, “I was one of the few people around here who saw beyond her attractive veneer; I saw her for what she was, an ambitious, insecure, needy young woman.”
“But you didn’t judge… ”
“Sheriff, I don’t make judgments; I let others do that, but I’m not afraid to call a spade a spade. That said, I didn’t share my view of Ashleigh with the others. I was just responding to your query.”
Ray nodded. “When do you think you last saw Ashleigh?”
“I couldn’t tell you, probably Friday, but I have no specific memory of seeing her. It could have been any day last week, the days sort of blend together.”
“But you did have lunch in the cafeteria?
“Dining hall, it’s called the dining hall.”
“And you did have lunch in the dining hall on Friday?” Ray watched her closely as she considered the question.
“Friday. I’m not sure. Sometimes, when I’m very busy, I just run in and get a yogurt and eat at my desk.” She looked at Ray; her tone hardened. “Why does it matter? My seeing her on Friday wouldn’t have prevented these horrible events.”
“There’s the possibility that Ashleigh might have said something that could provide a link to her killer.”
“You’re suggesting, sheriff,” Helen’s tone became argumentative, “that someone here might have threatened Ashleigh?”
“No. We are gathering information, trying to reconstruct the last few days of Ashleigh’s life—who she saw, what she said. Saturday, did you see her Saturday?”
“No. That I’m sure of.”
“You were here?”
“Yes. We had a home soccer game, and then Ian and I met with some prospective students and their parents. We gave them the Cook’s tour of the campus and then hosted a dinner.”
“How long did that last?”
“Well into the evening. They had lots of questions. I was just exhausted by the time they left.”
“Which was?”
“Must have been after eight.”
“Then what did you do?”
“We went back to our cottage. I watched some TV, Ian fell asleep reading. I had to wake him to get him to come to bed.” She paused and looked at Ray. “But why are you asking about where we were?”
“I’m trying to find out if she was seen around campus.”
“I certainly didn’t see her. Is there anything else?” she asked in a dismissive tone.
“Yes, I’m trying to get a sense of how the school operates. What specifically is your job?”
“I have several roles. I handle admissions, alumni affairs, and fundraising. The money generated by tuition and the school’s endowment only covers about eighty percent of the school’s annual budget. We have to go out and find donors for the rest.”
“So, when you came to Leiston, the board gave you and your husband a joint offer?”
“Yes, they did, but not my current job. When Ian was interviewed he made it clear that he would come only if I was also offered employment. We both had jobs in San Francisco and at that point in our careers we weren’t going to go to a single income. Given my training, the board created a position for a school psychologist. But a death and two retirements left openings in the administration. Ian asked the board if I could take over those positions.”
“The school doesn’t need a psychologist?”
“We can contract those services locally.”
“So, there was no one here who needed your expertise?”
“Sheriff, I spent years treating people with multiple personalities,” she paused, then continued, her tone becoming increasingly sarcastic. “No one here needed my special expertise. In point of fact, we do our best to screen out applicants with personality problems. And our curriculum is designed to strengthen each student’s sense of self-esteem.”
“During your tenure here, you haven’t had any students with… ” Ray paused as he searched for the appropriate term.
“Sheriff, if you’re asking about students who have evidenced violent antisocial tendencies, no, we don’t have anyone like that. But we do have teenagers, and adolescence is a state of mild madness, and all our students are afflicted with it some of the time. But, to my knowledge, no one is showing symptoms of anything more than that. Is there anything else, sheriff?”
“No,” said Ray. “Thank you for your time. I may need to talk to you again.”
“You can always find me here,” she said with a note of resignation.
Ray started out down the hall toward the exit. He stopped at the headmaster’s door and peered in. “Dr. Warrington, do you have a minute?”
“Yes, sheriff, please come in,” Ian Warrington responded, his words and tone appropriate, but with an expression that suggested mild irritation. “I hope you’re here to tell me you’ve caught the murderer.”
“I wish that were the case. Unhappily, we’re still in the early stages of the investigation.”
“Have a seat,” Warrington offered, his impeccable manners scarcely hiding his lack of enthusiasm for the encounter.
“Yes, thank you. Just a few quick questions. I know you must be very busy. I’m still trying to get a sense of where everyone was on Saturday.” He paused, watching Warrington’s face, then went on to explain himself. “I’m still hoping that someone will remember seeing Ms. Allen on Saturday.”
“Why’s that?”
“I think there is a chance that the murderer was keeping track of her or perhaps David Dowd. If people could remember seeing her, perhaps they could also remember seeing someone in the background. It’s that someone we’re looking for.”
“Well, sheriff, as I told you, I don’t think I saw her on Saturday. I’m pretty sure that Friday was the last time I saw her.”
“Yes. That was at lunch, wasn’t it?”
“Correct.”
“The faculty, do they eat together?”
“Usually, there’s an alcove just off the main dining area where we usually gather.”
“So no one eats with the students?”
“We all eat with the students from time to time, but it’s nice to have a meal with your colleagues and have some adult conversation.”
“And Ashleigh, did she usually eat lunch with her students or with the other faculty members?”
“Usually with her peers, but why all these questions? I don’t see the point of all this,” said Warrington, trying to control his annoyance.
“I’m trying to get a sense of the victim, all this helps. Saturday you were busy with a soccer game and parents?”
“Yes, and then I had dinner for some prospective parents and their children. We lingered awhile over dessert, they had many questions. They were here until 7:30 or 8:00.”
“Well, sounds like you had a long day. And after they left?”
“I came back here for a while to try to clear up some paperwork.”
“And your wife?”
“She was very tired, she went home after dinner.”
“I admire your dedication. Doing paperwork on a Saturday night after a long week. How long were you able to stay with it?”
“Not long, I was really exhausted. I was home by ten.”
Ray rose from his chair. “I appreciate the time.”
“But I thought you had some… some more specific questions?” Warrington said, looking surprised by Ray’s abrupt departure.
“I did, you answered them,” Ray responded from the door, leaving Warrington with a questioning look.