but there is always something new for us to learn. Breaking and entering for charity, now! Risking the end of promising student careers and long stints of porridge, just for the sake of hiding away a few books, annoying the Director, and just possibly raising a few bob for children in need. Eventually. Oh, and for “the pleasure of seeing the pigs baffled”, of course. We mustn’t forget that. You made a note of that, did you?’
Lucy Blake made a pretence of studying her notes whilst she fought back a smile. ‘Yes, sir. Got the very words here.’
‘Sorry!’ said Paul automatically, and then immediately decided from Peach’s expression that apology was a mistake.
‘So where are these trophies now, Mr Barnes? Where have you deposited the first editions of the immortal Jane?’
That was a literary reference, wasn’t it? Surely the pigs weren’t supposed to be able to make those? Paul said miserably. ‘Still on the Director’s bookshelves, I expect. We never got to them. I found Dr Carter’s body and we got out.’
Peach’s eyebrows lifted again, this time in delight. ‘So there’s no evidence to support this unlikely tale of philanthropy. Nothing to prove that you didn’t break into the place with the express intention of killing Dr George Andrew Carter, the Director of the University of East Lancashire.’ He rolled the full name and the title with relish off his tongue, as if it gave even greater weight to this sensational demise.
Paul was emotionally exhausted by now, too wrung out to be scared any more. He said, ‘We didn’t kill him. Didn’t have any intention of killing him. It was a shock when we found him lying there.’ He shuddered involuntarily at the recollection.
Peach studied him for a moment. ‘Do you know, Mr Barnes, I’m inclined to think you might at last be telling us the truth. If only because if I were trying to deceive the law, I’m sure I could make up a much more convincing story than that.’
It took Paul a moment to work out that he might be off the hook, for the present. He said, ‘Er, Gary and I have rather a lot at stake, haven’t we? We might be thrown off our courses, for a start. Does — does all this have to come out in public, Inspector?’ He gave the ogre his title for the first time, feeling as if he were trying to bribe the Dobermann with a bone.
‘Oh, I should think it has to, wouldn’t you? You’ll almost certainly have to give evidence of finding the body, in the Coroner’s Court, and perhaps later on in a Crown Court, depending on the cause of death. Possibly even in the Central Criminal Court at the Old Bailey, if this business ends with a high-profile trial. I should think you could become quite a local celebrity — for a short time.’ Peach beamed his satisfaction in that thought at the boy who had tried to deceive him.
Then he looked at the forlorn figure on the other side of the desk and said, ‘Look, if you’ve now told us everything, and we find it tallies with what we find in that house, we’ll do our best to keep you out of it. We can’t prevent some crafty defence counsel from probing into exactly what you were about when you found that body, but he won’t do that unless it helps his case, and at the moment I can’t see how it would. I should think your university tutors are bound to find out about it, but you’ll have to plead youth and stupidity — which shouldn’t be difficult, for either of you daft sods — and throw yourselves on their mercy.’
He took Paul Barnes outside onto the landing, told an enormously relieved Gary Pilkington that he had no need to see him again, and sent the crestfallen pair upon their way. Not really a fair test of the Peach skills of interrogation, these students, he thought.
But it had filled in the time and made it clear what had happened last night. By now, the Scene of Crime team might have something to report from the house across the way. It was time to begin piecing together just what
Learning to Kill: Stories