“Things change after that?”
“Sure did. If there was anything going on, they took it underground. Lots of deserted roads and beaches around here, aren’t there?” he said with a grin. “And it ain’t too hard to get access to a summer home. No need to be seen in public if you don’t want to.”
“And Mrs. Warrington?”
“Helen,” said Jack.
“Tell me about Helen.”
“Nice looking woman,” Jack observed. “She was a regular for a time, especially the first year they were at Leiston School. She’d stop by in the late afternoon, have a G and T or two. I always thought she had had a couple before she got here. Then her visits started getting less and less regular. And now I don’t think I’ve seen her for more than a year. I heard she started going to AA.”
“Did she meet anyone here?”
“No, she seemed to want to be left alone. Can remember one time when a couple of deer hunters hit on her, didn’t catch what she said, but they got the message real fast.”
“When she was here, what did she do?”
“She’d talk to me, have her drinks, and smoke. Seemed lonely, you know what I mean?”
“Ever talk about her marriage or anything personal?”
“Never. Just local gossip, news, weather, stuff like that. What was happening on the tube,” he gestured over his back toward the TV.
“She never brought anyone with her?” Ray asked, rephrasing an earlier question.
“No,” said Jack. He looked across the bar, out toward the picture window on the front wall and then back at Ray. “I think I once heard a rumor that she was seen with someone.” Jack looked thoughtful. “Maybe it wasn’t her. You hear a lot of stories in this job. They all start running together.”
“How about other Leiston employees?” asked Ray.
“How far do you want me to go back?”
“Start at the beginning.”
“The founder, Mrs. Howard, Gwendolyn,” Jack’s voice took on a wistful quality, “she was the genuine article, a real lady. Not like these yuppies that are building the trophy houses around here these days. Million bucks for a hundred feet of frontage. Where the hell does that kind of money come from?
“Gwendolyn was the real thing,” Jack continued. “Old money. She was a good person who treated you right. In the early days, after she started the school, she’d be here in the evenings with her teachers. They were all young then—in their twenties. She was probably forty-five, or fifty, still a fine-looking woman. They’d pull together some tables, get a few pitchers of beer, and sorta have meetings. There was a lot of excitement and energy, you know what I mean?”
Ray nodded.
“They were building something. And she’d invite me to the school when they were having a special event, like a play or a concert. But over the years we’ve seen less and less of the Leiston folks. In the sixties those were their tables,” he motioned off to the left. “Most of the original teachers are long gone. Those that replaced them ain’t the same. Guess the school ain’t the same either. And when they come in now they’re sort of snooty, like they’re better than the rest of us. My girls don’t like them. Say they’re too demanding and poor tippers.”
“Are any of them regulars?”
“Just one old-timer, the sculptor and painter, Janet Medford, she’s in here a lot. Mrs. Howard hired her; she was one of the original teachers. She was a real looker back in the ’60s—thin, big tits, pretty ass, and funny in a sarcastic kind of way. Think the cigarettes ruined her face. And she let herself run too fat. Used to come in with the drama teacher, Todd Danforth, he was one of the originals. I didn’t know whether they were a couple or just liked to drink together. Serious drinkers, Manhattans, light on the vermouth, extra dash of bitters. Didn’t seem to faze them. They used to joke that they hated the drinks but loved the cherries.” Jack paused, his voice softened. “He died last year, Danforth did, lung cancer. Janet still comes in the evening. Think she’s real lonely.”
“Going back to Ashleigh. Did she ever pick up men here?”
“Well, I think most men who saw her woulda liked to get lucky with her. Pretty, hell of a body, bit of a tease. But I don’t know. She wasn’t giving it away, if that’s what you mean. But I didn’t get the impression she was doing without. She could pick and choose. And most of the local boys, hell, they knew she was out of their class.”
“Did you know if anyone was angry with her? Perhaps someone who hit on her and was put down?”
“No. I’m sure that happened. But Ashleigh had such a nice way about her. She’d handle that kind of situation without making the person feel stupid. I’m going to miss her. Just looking at her made you feel good, know what I mean?”
Ray nodded in agreement, but he was thinking about someone else.
Ray walked the perimeter of the room, taking it all in. An elaborately carved sideboard stood along the interior wall; opposite were three sets of French doors that faced a central garden. A travertine fireplace filled much of a third wall. Parquet flooring in a herringbone pattern, similar to the one that Ray had seen in Warrington’s office, covered the floor. The furniture and dark wood surfaces seemed to absorb most of the illumination from overhead lights and the garden beyond the French doors, giving the space an aura of gloom.
“So this must have been the formal dining room,” Ray observed. “And your office was probably the butler’s pantry?”
“Yes,” Sarah replied, seemingly intrigued by Ray’s interest in the building. “The school library has an archive of pictures taken before the mansion was converted. They’re quite fascinating,” she continued, warming to the topic. “They are all in black and white, of course, but you can get a pretty good sense of how the place looked in the early years: the furniture, the grounds, family photos, and pictures of parties and gatherings. And lots of animals: dogs, horses, and cattle. It was a different world.”
Sarah placed a pile of folders on the table, and they settled into adjoining chairs. “I’ve pulled all our records on Ashleigh Allen. I’m afraid there isn’t much. At a small school like Leiston we don’t generate much paper.” She pulled the tray close to her. “Coffee?” she asked, starting to fill a mug.
“Yes, please. Black,” Ray responded. “I’m trying to understand your function here. You take care of the personnel… ”
“Human resources. Yes, that’s one of my responsibilities. My title is associate director for administration. I do the human resources work and handle most of internal management, plus whatever special projects Mr. Warrington assigns.”
“In addition to you and Warrington, how many other people work in management positions?” he asked, observing her closely, watching her eyes. She seemed relaxed and was much more attractive than he remembered from their first encounter; her manner was warm and engaging.
“Thompson, Bob Thompson, he’s our financial person, and Ian’s wife, Helen, takes care of the development office.”
“Development?”
“Yes, that’s the current euphemism for fundraising. She also looks after alumni relations; they really dovetail. And then there’s food service and security/maintenance. I’ve been told that when Mrs. Howard was alive and ran the school there was a lot more staff. But we’re now trying to make ends meet with tuition and a small endowment.”
Ray looked through Ashleigh’s small stack of papers: college transcripts, a letter of application, three letters of recommendation, a pre-employment physical and drug screening, the report from a third-party background check, a copy of the letter offering employment, and three yearly evaluations. Ray perused each document carefully and found nothing unusual. The evaluations were written by Warrington and were highly favorable. Ray looked up and caught Sarah watching him.
“You have a background check on all employees?”
“We do now, it’s one of the many changes Dr. Warrington instituted.”
Ray closed the folder. “You’re right. Not much here. But I wasn’t expecting a great deal. Tell me, Ms. James, tell me about Ashleigh.”
“Would you like me to freshen your coffee, sheriff?”
Ray nodded and held out his cup. “Ashleigh Allen?”
“Ashleigh Allen,” she repeated as she pulled her glasses off and set them on the table. “Well, as you can see she came here to teach three years ago. But, as I’m sure you know by now, she was a niece of Mrs. Howard and had been a student here.”
“Do you think that was a hiring consideration?” he probed.
“No. I’m sure it could look that way, but no. You saw her grades and read her recommendations. Any school would have been lucky to get her.”
“But she did upset people,” Elkins said, looking into her soft blue eyes.
“Initially, yes, especially early on. She was so good at everything. And the students and their parents loved her.”
“But not every one loved her?”
“No, some of the old-timers disliked her. They thought that Ashleigh had an air of entitlement. She would ask for things that no one else would.”
“Are you talking about salary?”
“No, nothing like that. Nothing for herself, ever. She’d ask for equipment for her classroom, or things for her outdoors program: high-tech camping equipment, new sea kayaks, even a climbing wall with all the ropes and paraphernalia. And she’d get them. I think that’s what the others resented.”
“And who would she ask, Warrington?”
“She’d start with him. If she couldn’t get the money from school funds, she’d go after an alum or one of our current parents. Ashleigh was very aggressive and quite persuasive.”
“Did this ah… entrepreneurial approach, did this offend Mr. Warrington?”
“I don’t think anything Ashleigh did offended Ian.” Once the words were out of her mouth her expression suggested that she wished she could take them back.
“So, in spite of all these stories of how everyone loved Ashleigh, there were some people who were at least unhappy with her… ”
“They thought she was self-serving. Other people needed things for their programs as well. The art teacher wanted new computers for digital photography; the French teacher wanted a modern language lab. Last year we had requests for a half million in new equipment, but a budget of less than forty thousand. Ashleigh usually got more than her share, and I would hear about it. When people are angry they come to me. They think it’s safer to air their grievances with me than with Dr. Warrington.”
“How angry?”
She looked thoughtful and then gave Ray a mocking smile. “Not angry enough to kill her, if that’s what you’re asking. Just the normal kind of friction you find in any organization. And,” she slowed down her speech, giving emphasis to her words, “there’s less hostility here than in most places I’ve worked.”
“So, who was especially unhappy with Ashleigh?”
“Probably Janet Medford, the art teacher, was the most vocal. She got quite personal, nasty is perhaps a better word. She kept referring to how the budget decisions were being made based on the T-and-A factor. But then Janet is bitter about most things, and it’s only gotten worse since her long-time companion died of lung cancer last fall.”
“Who was that?”
“Todd Danforth, he was our drama teacher.”
“Tell me about the… ” Ray caught himself and rephrased the question. “Tell me about the man at the meeting who seemed so angry.”
“Alan Quertermous.”
“Who is?”
“He’s one of the math teachers. And what you saw is typical of his performances at staff meetings. He usually explodes three or four times a year. And he’s always right and the rest of us are idiots,” she paused. “He refers to any of us who aren’t agreeing with him as ‘pinheads.’”
“Tell me about Mr. Quertermous.”
“He’s been here from almost the beginning of the school. But he’s quite different from the other teachers, especially the other people Mrs. Howard hired.”
“How so?”
“This was a very experimental school, especially in the beginning. It had an extremely liberal staff, people who were open to all kinds of non-traditional approaches to teaching. This man, Quertermous, is really reactionary, and I can’t imagine he was much different years ago. The other thing that sets him apart from the rest of the faculty is that Alan clearly has independent means. Rumor has it he inherited millions from his father. He doesn’t live on campus. He’s got one of those big new houses on the ridgeline overlooking the lake. It’s sort of a fortress. The joke around here is that he’s a mountain man survivalist who wears Brooks Brothers suits and drinks single-malt whiskey.”
“Have you ever been to his house?” Ray asked.
“Yes, I’m probably one of the few people here who has. When I first arrived in the area, he was very nice to my son and me. He gave us a wonderful tour of the area and took us sailing.” She looked at Ray, “Nothing romantic, at least in my mind. I thought he was probably gay. Then he invited me to his house. It was pretty scary. Lots of guns. He took pride in showing me this elaborate security system: cameras, motion detectors, and floodlights. The place was just creepy. After that things got rather sticky because he continued to try to do things for us, and I did my best to avoid him. Eventually he got the idea.”
“And he didn’t like Ashleigh?”
“Oil and water. They were at opposite poles. But then, he’s often at odds with everyone on the faculty. I know Ian hopes he can get Quertermous to retire this year. But I think he’s going to try to hold on as long as possible.”
“What kind of a teacher is he?”
“Well, that’s the interesting thing. With his peers and us he’s usually sarcastic and angry. And some of the kids really dislike him, but others, especially the poorer math students, say he’s kind and patient. Sort of Jekyll and Hyde.”