Free Death in Dark Waters by Patricia Hall

speaking.
    â€œThat’s easy to say, Chief Inspector, and I know the police don’t do much about young people using drugs these days, but our parents expect the highest standards. After the publicity there’s been, my chairman has already indicated that we can’t afford to take her back. Or Jeremy, for that matter, should he recover. Our reputation depends on us taking a strong line. We’re in a cut-throat market.”
    â€œHave you said anything to your other sixth-formers yet?” he asked.
    â€œNot yet. Everyone is waiting to see what progress Jeremy makes.”
    â€œYou make it very difficult for them to contact the police with information if they think they’ll be expelled if you find out,” Thackeray said. “I’m pretty sure there were others out celebrating with Jeremy and Louise but no one has come forward yet. I want to ask you to urge them to contact us. We need to find the source of the Ecstasy tablets. It’s the least we can do for Jeremy’s parents. You can tell the youngsters they can talk to us in the strictest confidence.”
    Stewart nodded enthusiastically.
    â€œOf course, of course, we can do that,” he said, although Thackeray had no confidence at all that exhortations from the headmaster would have much effect on his clubbing sixth-formers who must know very well what was going to befall Louise James.

    â€œAnd you won’t threaten them with any sort of consequences here as a result? You can’t assume that just because they were at the club they took drugs as well.”
    Stewart looked more doubtful at that, as well he might, Thackeray thought. You could probably count the number of young people who went clubbing without the use of illegal stimulants on the fingers of one hand.
    â€œParents will talk,” Stewart said. “You know what the grapevine’s like, Chief Inspector. If it’s drawn to my attention that someone else is involved I don’t see how I can avoid taking some sort of action.”
    â€œIt’s not helpful at the moment,” Thackeray said.
    â€œWell, I’m sorry,” Stewart insisted. “I’ll turn as deaf an ear as I can - but I can’t afford to harbour known drug users. It does the school no good at all.”
    And with that Thackeray had to be content. He drove away from the school in a dissatisfied mood and instead of turning back into town and on towards Laura’s flat he joined the stream of rush hour traffic heading for the suburbs and beyond. His objective was a street of run-down semidetached houses on the very edge of the town with a view from generally untended gardens over the moorland countryside between Bradfield and the commuter village of Broadley. Turning off the main road, he drove gingerly over the rutted surface and parked outside one of the last houses in the row and sat for a moment contemplating the muddy garden, the broken fences and the light spilling from the uncurtained front window. The last time he had been here an angry youth with a shot-gun had been threatening the family inside the house. Since then the son who had been threatened had been gaoled, as had the attacker he had provoked, and he fervently hoped that the authorities had shown enough sense to send them to different institutions. Where the rest of the family had gone he needed to discover, although as Superintendent Longley kept reminding him, the basis for his inquiries was flimsy, little more than a hunch which in
a junior officer he would himself have dismissed with contempt.
    He locked his car carefully and knocked on the door, which offered neither knocker nor bell-push, several times before it was eventually opened by a middle-aged woman, with a cigarette clutched in one hand and the collar of a fierce-looking Staffordshire terrier in the other.
    â€œOh, it’s you Mr. Thackeray,” Jean Bailey muttered pulling the growling dog back into the house. “Just let me