Fell Purpose by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles Page B

Nicholls. ‘The trouble with people like him is that they escalate. The sin loses its edge so they have to sin a bit harder to get the same thrill. And he’s just stupid enough to want to earn his sobriquet. He may have finally crossed the line, Bill.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Slider. It was a dismal prospect.
    ‘I’ll wheel up your woman,’ Nutty said. He got to the door and turned back to say, ‘His ma used to tie him up when he was bad, you know – Oates. When he was a wean. Used to tie him to the banisters by the neck so he wouldn’t struggle. Used to use a pair of her old tights.’ He shook his head. ‘The things we do to our children.’
    The woman moved so briskly across the room that Slider only just had time to get to his feet before she thrust her hand out to be shaken.
    ‘Elizabeth Finch-Dutton, head teacher of St Margaret’s,’ she said crisply. ‘Zellah Wilding’s head teacher. They tell me you are the officer in charge.’
    He’d forgotten they didn’t call themselves masters and mistresses any more. ‘Detective Inspector Slider,’ he said. Despite the warm day, her hand was cold and dry, and the grip was hard and brief, like a politician’s, and quickly withdrawn.
    ‘I heard the dreadful news this morning, on the radio. I’m so shocked I can hardly believe it. Is it true the poor child was murdered?’
    ‘I’m afraid so.’
    ‘But – how? I mean, what—?’
    ‘I’m afraid I can’t go into any of the details,’ Slider said.
    She pulled herself together. ‘Of course. I understand. It’s just so incomprehensible . In the absence of information the imagination tends to run wild.’
    Let it run , said Slider’s sturdy silence.
    ‘I thought I’d better come here and see if there was anything I can do,’ she said meekly. ‘It’s good of you to see me, when you must be so busy. But if I can help in any way, I will gladly rally any forces at my command to find out who did this dreadful thing.’
    Slider gestured to her to sit. She was tall and thin, in her late fifties probably, with cropped grey hair, large glasses and a professional smile – a ritual baring of teeth. It seemed to be coming and going rather randomly, as if she kept finding herself doing it automatically and then realizing it wasn’t appropriate to the occasion. She was not as much in control of herself as she wanted to appear, and Slider liked her the better for it.
    ‘Any background information you can give me?’ he suggested. ‘What was your impression of Zellah?’
    ‘She was one of our stars . A very able girl. She was a prefect , you know, and she was under consideration for Head Girl next year. Exemplary behaviour and academic prowess. Such a good example to the lower forms. We all thought a great deal of her.’ Her accent was crisp and her enunciation perfect, and she spoke with an emphasis carefully placed on one word in each phrase – a learned trick of rhetoric, presumably, but which made her sound authoritative. What she said would be the last word on any subject. ‘It’s so terrible to think of all that potential cut short in this senseless manner. She was the sort of girl we all long for but rarely get through our hands: a girl with a real academic intellect. Her A levels were sciences, you know.’
    ‘I expect that’s unusual.’
    ‘More so every year. One feels so for the Wildings, because they encouraged her just as they should, and that’s even more rare. Mr Wilding,’ the smile flashed out briefly, like a lighthouse beam passing, ‘is quite one of our treasures. He’s on the Board of Governors; he involves himself in all our projects, always willing to help in the most practical way. I believe he does a great deal of charity work outside as well, and sits on various committees – residents’ association, parish council, Neighbourhood Watch and so on. He’s a pillar of society.’ She used the phrase as if it were placed in inverted commas: a cliché, you were to understand, but one