Maxwell's Point by M.J. Trow Read Free Book Online Page A

doing on the likely dates and what time it got dark. And get on to the Met Office; Sheila, that’s your job. Sun, rain, hail – I want to know what the weather was like in the first two weeks in June.’
    ‘Bloody hot, guv,’ someone intervened. ‘Same as now.’
    ‘Let’s not get casual on this one,’ Hall warned them. ‘We’re doing it by the book and we’re doing it precisely. George,’ he swivelled to his DI, ‘get over to the lab, will you? It may be Friday afternoon, but I don’t want a Friday afternoon job from them. Nor do I want us all to be kicking our heels for two days. When you’ve chivvied Luigi, chivvy them along too, will you?’
    Bronson smiled. ‘Chivvy is my middle name, guv,’ he said.
     
    ‘Murder, she said.’
    Peter Maxwell was sprawled on his settee, his son sprawled across his chest. Opposite them, Jacquie Carpenter was grateful to put her feet up on the pouffé.
    ‘Come on, Max.’ She shook her head. ‘Delusional. Teenage girls from here back to Salem, Massachusetts. You know the score.’
    ‘Indeed I do,’ he snorted. ‘In fact, heart of darkness,
I
told
you.
You may have attended the half hour lecture on hormonal imbalance in the pubescent female, but I have to work with the little buggers – oh, saving your presence, old man,’ and he put his hands belatedly over the baby’s ears. ‘You thought Salem was a car boot until I took you on that educational canter through the History of Witchcraft for Beginners.’
    ‘How bloody dare you!’ she trilled, her eyes big. ‘You don’t have a monopoly on female delinquency and if you weren’t hiding behind the kid, I’d throw something at you.’
    ‘All right,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll concede you know what you’re talking about most of the time. So why don’t you buy this one?’
    She sipped her coffee. ‘Why do you?’
    ‘That’s it,’ he muttered, tutting. ‘That’s it. Answer a question with a question. All right. The bottom line is that I suppose I trust Steph Courtney. Sure, I’ve known lots of liars in my time, practitioners of the Big Whoppa theory. It’s usually to gain attention or to get them out of trouble. And yes, you’re right, it’s usually girls.’
    ‘Steph Courtney’s not the type to be in trouble, then?’ Jacquie checked.
    Maxwell shook his head. ‘She forgot her exercise book in Year Seven once. Inconsolable.’
    ‘Come on, Max,’ Jacquie urged him. ‘She’s in Year Eleven now. On Study Leave, aren’t they? I dare say there are a few distractions out there for her. You know, sex, drugs, rock ’n’ roll.’
    ‘Oh, probably,’ Maxwell conceded. ‘I’m not saying she’s Mary Poppins. But the fact that she’s temporarily off roll at the moment points in the not guilty direction. Why should she come into school – to see me in particular – when there’s no need to?’
    ‘Attention-seeking.’ Jacquie was playing devil’s advocate, but she couldn’t resist a certain smugness. She did it so well.
    ‘Balanced girl,’ Maxwell countered. ‘Only child, so there are no siblings to put her nose out of joint. Two parent family. I taught the dad. Seem to be loving. At least, they’ve been together since Steph joined the school.’
    ‘That’s sort of superficial,’ Jacquie felt bound to say. ‘How do you know Daddy isn’t playing away? Just ’cos he didn’t do it in your History lessons. Mummy hasn’t got a cocaine habit? Both of them aren’t into Satanic Abuse?’
    Maxwell looked at her. ‘It’s obviously being so positive keeps you cheerful,’ he said.
    Jacquie laughed. ‘I’m sorry, Max, but you do take my point.’
    Maxwell did. He’d been at the chalkface now, man and probationer, since old Socrates used to walk about Greece talking to people in some vague belief he was educating them. No, you never knew kids well. You daren’t. ‘Don’t get involved’, a wise old Head of Department had once told himwhen he, Maxwell, was still wet behind the ears. They can