The Angel And The Devil

5

As we pull up in front of the Posho school I can't help but feel over come by its majesty. The windows large and french. The door arched and the walls made of fine brick work. A gravel drive under foot with a perfect British country side view.
There are a number of people around. Two police cars are already there and a woman is standing in front of one of them, leaning against the bonnet wearing a shock blanket around her shoulders and crying while a uniformed female police officer talks to her. A man, probably a plain clothed police officer, is also talking to her but walks away as we get out of the car and approach. The woman blows her nose on her handkerchief.
The female officer is talking to her. Telling her it's okay, she's not going to get arrested.
Greg whispers something to dad who nods his head. He strides forth, straightens his backs and yells.
"Miss Mackenzie, you're in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night. What are you: an idiot, a drunk or a criminal? "
He grabs the blanket and abruptly pulls it from around her shoulders. She gasps in fear as he glares furiously at her." Now quickly, tell me!"
Tearfully and cringing in terror she says
" All the doors and windows were properly bolted. No-one - not even me - went into their room last night. You have to believe me!" Dad smiles his best smile and nods.
"I do. I just wanted you to speak quickly." I stand open mouthed.
" Miss Mackenzie will need to breathe into a bag now. "
She sobs in distress and the female police officer hurries over to comfort her.
"Dad!"
"What, I need to get things done. If you want to be a detective you have to delete emotions."
"How can you do it!"
"Go to your mind palace. I don't know."
The inside is more beautiful than the front. The floor is some varnished wood with 2 great pillars inside the lobby. The ceiling cut into 3 parts. The first a painting of Adam and even, the second stone with flowers and third of the sky. There are 2 sets of stairs, each one is leading to separate sides of the school. There are also two corridors to my left and right.
We walk up the varnished stairs. I can't help falling in a (hypothetical) love with the banister. It has tiny flowers carved into the surface. The leaves rippling into the next flower. They are painted in a lighter varnish. On the creme walls pictures. One of a girl, grinning holding a swimming trophy, with the caption Graces victory.

"Six grand a term, you'd expect them to keep the kids safe for you. You said the other kids had all left on their holidays?"
6 grand a term and you would expect them to have decent rooms. The bed simply make of metal. The sheets white and walls blue. Empty bookshelves by beds. At the foot of one of the beds is a trunk.
Dad shuffles along the floor, on his knees, peering under the beds. He looks a bit demented.
"They were the only two sleeping on this floor. Absolutely no sign of a break-in."
Dad picks up a lacrosse stick (that's how you know it's a posh school) and wields it like some weapon. Suddenly he drops it with a clatter onto the polished floor.
"The intruder must have been hidden inside some place." Greg says.
Dad then goes to the trunk and flicks open the lie. Amongst the bears and books is an envelope. Inside is a well used hard back copy of Grimm's fairy tales.
"Show me where the brother slept."
" Can I take the book." Dad spins round on his heel.
"Mmm." He hands me the book before striding (Dad does a lot of it. That's only because he's tall) to Greg.

The boys dorm is smaller with only one bed with bedding on it. The door has a cool frosted glass pane, opposit to the bed with clothes on.
" The boy sleeps there every night, gazing at the only light source outside in the corridor. He'd recognise every shape, every outline, the silhouette of everyone who came to the door." He's going all professional.
" Okay, so ... " Greg says.
" So someone approaches the door who he doesn't recognise, an intruder. Maybe he can even see the outline of a weapon." He says obviously.
Leaving us inside the room, he goes outside the door and pulls it almost closed, then raises his hand and points his fingers as if they're a gun, showing Greg how it would be seen through the frosted glass. He pushes the door open and comes back into the room.
"What would he do in the precious few seconds before they came into the room? How would he use them if not to cry out?"
He walks around the bed, looking at the boy's possessions.
" This little boy; this particular little by who reads all of those spy books. What would he do?" Storm breaker, point blank and other spy titles sit well read I the shelves.
" He'd leave a sign?" Uncle John says. I want to applaud him.
Dad starts sniffing noisily. He picks up a cricket bat leaning against the nearby cupboard and sniffs along both sides of it. Putting the bat down again he squats and sniffs around the bedside table, then reaches under the bed and picks up an almost empty glass bottle of linseed oil. What is he half greyhound? He looks up.
"Get Anderson."