Free Dead of Winter by Elizabeth Corley Page A

tuition.’
    ‘Right.
I
said yes but the college refused; said I was undermining parental authority. My arse! Oh, excuse me,’ she said and looked at him, genuinely embarrassed. ‘I forgot that this was an official police interview.’
    He laughed.
    ‘It won’t be in my notes. So that broke her resistance and she went to the wedding after all? She must care about her art.’
    ‘It’s her passion and yes, you’re right, the poor kid gave in.’
    ‘Let’s come back to yesterday. What happened when Issie didn’t show up?’
    ‘I sent girls to check her room, the library … anywhere she might be. They couldn’t find her so I went to the deputy head and reported her missing. She checked with the other teachers and had members of staff search the obvious places. By eleven-thirty I was really worried but the deputy said we couldn’t be sure she was gone. I’m afraid I had to insist that we report her missing. I threatened to do it myself if the school refused.’
    ‘Not popular.’
    ‘No, but then they need me more than I need them.’
    ‘Why is that?’
    Miss Bullock blushed, made a show of eating her fruit and avoided the question.
    ‘I asked why.’
    ‘Oh, this will sound arrogant; but I’m quite … known in the contemporary art world.’
    He made a note to check up.
    ‘Is there anything else you can tell me about Issie that might help us find her?’
    Bullock toyed with a piece of pineapple, pushing the segment around her plate.
    ‘No, that’s all.’
    Fenwick felt she was holding back and asked again but she shook her head and merely drank her coffee so he rose to go. He had other interviews to complete before he saw Saxby.
    ‘If anything else occurs to you, no matter how trivial, please call me.’ He handed her his card. ‘I’m really worried about Issie.’ He hesitated, watching in vain for the involuntary flinch his words should have evoked. ‘There are four possibilities as to what might have happened to her.’
    Louise Bullock regarded him for the first time with interest.
    ‘
Four?
’
    ‘Yes.’ He ticked each one off on his fingers. ‘One, she’s run away – though from everything I’m learning I think that’s unlikely.’
    ‘Why?’ Her question was almost accusatory, as if he were condemning Issie by his assumption.
    ‘Because she’s taken nothing with her; her passport, cash, chequebook, credit card, clothes, make-up are all here. What bright girl does that? She didn’t leave the school on impulse; she found out the pass code for the staff gate. That took planning.’
    ‘So that’s option one,’ Bullock said; her voice wavered but her eyes were steady.
    ‘Option two is that she only left for the night but hurt herself and is lying injured somewhere. That’s one of the reasons we have such a large search going on, not just here at the school but in the surrounding area as well. With temperatures this low she won’t have survived even one night unless she was lucky enough to fall in a sheltered place.’
    Miss Bullock cupped her hands around her mug.
    ‘Well go on; what’s the third option?’
    ‘There is a chance that she’s been abducted – by a stranger or someone she knows – who is now holding her against her will. Of all the options – and remember I don’t think she’s a runaway – it’s the one that gives us hope. It means she could still be alive somewhere out of the weather and that we have time to find her.’
    ‘And the fourth?’ Her tone suggested that she had already guessed his answer.
    ‘Is that she’s been killed.’ He let his words sink in but all she did was study her fingernails. ‘So based on all that, Miss Bullock, are you certain you have nothing more to say?’
    The teacher dropped her head and stared at her coffee. Seconds ticked away.
    ‘Miss Bullock?’
    ‘Nothing further, Mr Fenwick.’
    ‘Very well,’ his voice was clipped, ‘then at the least you can tell me which of her friends I should speak to.’
    There was a tiny