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CHAPTER 6
Sydney’s first stop was the school. She met with the Dean of Hornsby Academy, Paul McNeil. He was a short man with a receding hairline and a protruding belly. He rose as Sydney was led into his office. “Professor Fox,” he greeted, holding out his hand. “What a delight to have you visit us. You’ve done a lot to restore England ’s history. You know my brother is a palaeontologist and while his field is the history of the earth…” Sydney didn’t have time for pleasantries “Dean McNeil, I apologize for interrupting, but I’ve come on an urgent matter.” She knew that the police wouldn’t believe her that Cawvers had kidnapped Nigel, so she was left to her own devices. She’d contacted Karen and asked her to do a search on Cawvers, to look for anything that might give a clue as to where Nigel had been taken. Then she called Preston and told him to grill the school board and see if he could find out any information on the headmistress and he managed to get her a meeting with the Dean that morning. “Oh, yes, quite so.” McNeal indicated the chair behind Sydney . “Please, do have a seat and tell me what this is all about. Mr. Bailey was very insistent that I see you.” Sydney forced herself to sit. “Yes. I need some information about your headmistress, Miss. Cawvers?” McNeil raised an eyebrow. “Oh? May I ask why you have an interest in her?” “It’s a personal matter and I need to speak to her. I asked some of your staff and they said they haven’t seen her all day.” Sydney sat forward. “It’s very important that I speak with her.” “I see. Well, Madam Cawvers is not here at the moment. She requested an immediate leave of absence just yesterday.” Sydney’s heart sank. “Did she say why or where she was going?” “I didn’t care to ask my dear. She has not requested a leave in the twenty three years that she has been here, so I assumed that it was an urgent matter for her to request one now. I did not feel it was my place to pry into the affair.” He leaned back in his chair. “Furthermore, even did I know, I could not in good conscience discuss her business with anyone else.” “I appreciate that,” Sydney agreed. “But it is on a personal matter that I have to reach her. It’s a matter of life and death really.” McNeal’s eyebrows rose. “Life and death? Are you sure you are not over dramatizing, Professor Fox?” “I assure you that I am very serious.” Sydney changed tactics. “Look, if you can’t tell me where she is gone, could you maybe give me an address of where she lives off campus? I could just try finding her there and if I don’t, well you wouldn’t be interfering in her privacy.” McNeal sat forward and put his hands on the desk. “Perhaps if you explained why you were looking for her? We take the confidentiality of our staff very seriously at Hornsby Academy , Professor. I would need a very good reason to violate it. “I believe she is with a friend of mine, a colleague, and it’s him that I need to find.” “And this colleague would be?” “Nigel Bailey.” McNeal brightened. “Ah, Preston ’s younger brother? I believe that he went to our school for a time, as well.” “Yes, and I think Nigel is with Miss. Cawvers. It’s very important that I find them.” “But why would he be with her? From what I can recall, Miss. Cawvers has no family, so surely he isn’t a relation.” “No, they…Nigel remembered her from when he went here and they…they met up to discuss old times and now I can’t reach him.” That was as close to the truth as Sydney could tell the Dean. He would never believe that Cawvers was some demented psycho that had kidnapped her friend. McNeal spread his hands. “I wish that I could help you, Professor, but I know of no residence that Miss Cawvers has outside of the Academy. She stays in her quarters at her at school, even on holidays. I’ve never known her to live anywhere else.” Sydney rose, disappointed and tried to resist the urge to pull the man over the desk and force him to confess. She sensed that he was hiding something, but she couldn’t be sure what. “I appreciate your time, Dean McNeal.” The older man rose and shook her hand politely. “Good day to you, Professor Fox.” Sydney left the office, nodded at the receptionist and met Preston coming down the hallway towards her. “Did you learn anything about Nigel?” Sydney shook her head, grimly. “No, but he knows something, I’d bet my life on it.” Unfortunately the life she was betting was Nigel’s. She turned to Preston . “Is there anyone else you can think of that might know something about Cawvers?” “I’ve questioned the people that I know, few have very much to say about her,’ Preston replied. “However, I was told that Professor Reardon has known her the longest, so perhaps we might speak with him.” Sydney nodded, any lead was better than none. “Let’s go find the good Professor then.” Preston quickly followed. “ Sydney , do you really think that what Pod…Nigel said about him was true?” “I see no reason for Nigel to lie about something like that, Preston .” “True enough, but I find it hard to believe that he’s been here all this time and no one has spoken out, ever. I mean, in this day an age aren’t children encourage to speak of any abuse?” The bell ran to announce class change and Sydney watched as the halls filled with young boys in dark blazers and pressed pants. Expecting the usual noisy chaos that she remembered from her boarding school days, she was surprised that the boys remained completely silent. There was no chatting in the hall, no fooling around, no running or passing notes. Each one slipped off to their next class, head bent, arms curled around their books and in a surrounding hush. “I don’t think the people at this school are living in the same day and age as the rest of us, Preston ,” she muttered as they climbed the steps to the third floor, where the Reardon’s science class was located. Sydney stopped to peer through the window of the door and saw Reardon talking to a young red-headed boy. He appeared to be helping the boy work out a problem on the chalk board, but Reardon’s hand kept caressing the boy’s back in a way that Sydney found sickening, especially after what Nigel had told her. She rapped hard on the door and the teacher glanced up startled. He immediately stepped back from the boy. “Forgive us for the interruption, Professor,” Preston greeted when he pulled open the classroom door. “Could we have a moment of your time?” Reardon smiled, recovering from his guilty moment. “Certainly.” He nodded at the door. “Run along Thomas, we’ll work on that problem later.” Thomas seemed eager to leave and quickly grabbed his books. “Yes, sir.” Reardon waved Sydney and Preston inside, still smiling as he started erasing the problems on the chalkboard. “How can I help you, Professor Fox?” “We’re looking for Headmistress Cawvers and we were told you might know where we could find her,” Sydney advised. “Have you tried her quarters? She may also be overseeing the music class.” Reardon set the eraser down and dusted off his hands. “I believe she was having trouble with some of the methods our new music teacher was employing.” “Dean McNeil says that she had taken a leave of absence.” Reardon blinked. “Really? Well, good for her. I keep telling her she needs a vacation…” “Do you know where we could find her, Professor?” Sydney demanded she wasn’t in the mood for games. “Why, no. How would I know that? I’ve only just learned that she’s gone away.” Sydney was buying his innocent act but it was Preston who spoke next. “We were told you’re friends with the headmistress,” he said mildly. “We were hoping you might know where else we could find her. Does she have a residence outside of school?” Reardon frowned and leaned against the deck, crossing his ankles and his arms. “What’s this all about?” Sydney couldn’t waste anymore time. “Do you remember my friend Nigel? You spoke briefly with him yesterday. You taught him science?” Reardon smiled again. “Yes, one of the brightest pupils I ever had.” “Well, he’s missing and we believe Cawvers is with him.” “I’m sorry for your friend, but how is Julia involved?” There had been a flicker of recognition, a hint of knowledge in Reardon’s eyes but then it was gone, but Sydney caught it well enough. “It’s complicated, but we have to find them immediately. Do you know where she might go when she isn’t here?” “No, I truly don’t.” Reardon lifted his hands and shrugged. “I don’t think she has a flat or anything away from the school and to my knowledge she has never discussed any family she is close with.” He smiled again. “I’m sure your friend is just off enjoying his memories of school.” “ Preston , wait outside.” Preston was startled by Sydney ’s command. “Sorry?” “Outside. Now.” Preston nodded and stepped outside, closing the door behind him. Sydney stepped up, toe to toe with Reardon and grabbed him by the lapels of his sports coat. “Listen to me you little cretin, if I find out you’re lying to me, you will wish you were never born.” “N…Now see here!” “I want to know where Cawvers is and I want to know now!” “I don’t know where she is!” Sydney suddenly tossed him against the wall and put her arm against his windpipe. “You’re a man of science, Professor. You know that brain cells can begin to die within five minutes after oxygen supply has been cut off. When it lasts even longer, it can cause coma, seizures, and even brain death.” “Please!” Reardon tried to struggle but Sydney was too strong, too angry. She pressed harder against his windpipe and heard him choke. “I won’t let your body die, Professor. I will make sure that your body survives and you are trapped inside a retarded, drooling prison of your own mass for the rest of your miserable life.” Reardon grunted and finally nodded. “P…please…tell...I’ll tell.” Sydney released him just enough that he could breathe. “Talk.” Reardon sucked in precious air. “I…I don’t know where she is…Wait!” he cried when Sydney moved her arm up again. “She…she had a house. It’s…it’s on the other side of town on…on Wailset Lane . 22 Wailset Lane . ” He shook his head, miserably. “I…I don’t know if she still has it, but she did a few years ago.” Sydney released him and watched as he slid pathetically down the wall and tried to cover his head, protectively. “If you’re lying…” “I’m not. I swear. That is all I know! Please!” Sydney crouched down. “One more thing, Professor. I think it’s time you resigned.” “W…what? You…you can’t make me…” “I saw what you were doing to Thomas and I bet if we asked around a bit we’d find several other boys that would say you’ve been a very naughty teacher.” Reardon’s skin turned practically transparent. “You...I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Sydney rose. “Okay, let’s go start a survey then, shall we? I’ll start with Thomas.” Reardon scrambled to his feet. “No! You…you can’t possibly…you don’t understand…I haven’t done anything!” Sydney shrugged and moved towards the door. “Your choice, Professor. If I don’t hear about your immediate resignation within the next twenty-four hours this place will become the new home of Scotland Yard, got it?” Reardon nodded numbly and then crumpled at his desk and started to sob as Sydney stepped out of the classroom and closed the door. “What did you do to him?” Preston asked, quietly as he straightened from where he had been leaning against the wall. “We came to an understanding, let’s say.” Sydney started down the hallway. “Come on, I have an address.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Nigel woke with a throbbing head and a queasy stomach. His eyes opened and stared upwards at an airplane hovering above him. Slowly, he sat up and took in his surroundings. The walls around him were dark blue with light grey moulding. On them were posters and pictures of all types of airplanes. Model airplanes hung from the ceiling and decorated two large shelves and the hutch of an antique desk. Books on airplanes took up three shelves in a small bookcase in the corner, to the left of the twin sized bed he was laying on. He swung his feet to the floor, started to rise and dropped down again when his head began to swim and brought with it a horrible feeling of nausea. He cradled his head for a minute, trying to figure out what happened. There was a knock on the door, he remembered that, and then…He scowled. Why couldn’t he remember who was at the door? He closed his eyes and forced himself to picture the scene. Sydney and he had been playing about, it started to get serious for a moment and then there was a knock. He opened the door and…His eyes widened and he shot off the bed. Cawvers! The sudden change in his position caused all the blood to rush to head again, so that he had to grip the post of the headboard to avoid falling over. He’d opened the door and found the headmistress on the other side, but before he could say anything, there had been a pain in his neck. His hand went to his throat and he felt a slight bump on the right side. Had she shot him with some sort of tranquilizer? That was the only thing he could think of that would cause him to completely black out. He took a moment to steady himself, and then carefully looked around. Two doors. He tried one and it led to a small privy. The other door was locked from the outside, no matter how much he pulled it would not open. He tried not to panic as he moved to the drawn curtains, pulled them apart and found a brick wall in place of a window. “Oh, Syd,” he moaned as he went to the door again and started pounding on it. “Hey! Let me out this instant! This is kidnapping!” What could Cawvers want with him? He hadn’t found anything of interest in her diary, but he hadn’t read all the way through. Where was Sydney ? Did the headmistress have her as well? He pounded on the door again and suddenly felt the bile rise in his throat. He ran for the bathroom and made it just in time. He had just finished retching when he heard a key in the lock and the door opening, but he was too weak to make a run for it. He was on his knees by the toilet, trembling and embarrassed. He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned against the wall, wishing for Sydney . He felt a cool cloth on his face and opened his eyes, startled to find Cawvers bent over him and tending his brow in a motherly fashion. He tried to scramble away from her and hit his head on the sink. “Don’t be frightened,” she soothed, nothing of the usual rigidness in her voice. “I’m sorry you were ill, but it will pass.” She reached for him and Nigel flinched. “Where am I?” he croaked. “Why have you brought me here?” “It will be fine.” She tried to reach for him again and he shook her off and used the wall as leverage to climb to his feet. She straightened and folded her hands in front of her. “I’ve made you some soup. It will settle your stomach.” Nigel watched her turn and walk back into the bedroom, baffled at her behaviour. Slowly, he followed. He watched her adjust a bowl of steaming soup and a glass of milk on a small tray that she had settled on the desk. He glanced towards the door and immediately moved towards it, surprised to find it locked. Cawvers didn’t react to his attempted escape. She was straightening the spoon on a folded napkin by the soup. “Come and eat, before it gets cold.” Nigel could feel his former fear of her returning and he tried to push it back. Becoming hysterical would not help him. He was sure that Sydney would find him. He just had to stay alive and, hopefully un-sacrificed until then. “I don’t want to eat. I want you to open this door.” Cawvers moved over and settled in a rocker by the pretend window, Nigel noticed she had pulled the drapes closed again. “You have to eat. It will make you feel better.” “I’d feel better if you’d opened the door!” Cawvers picked up some knitting that she had in a bag by the rocker and her needles started clicking away. She started humming to herself and rocking. It was such an odd sight to see the Headmistress he had been convinced was Satan humming and knitting like an old grandmother. “Why have you brought me here?” he demanded. “You’re soup is getting cold. You’ll be sorry if you don’t eat and I won’t bring you anything else until dinner.” “What do you want?” “I want you to eat.” “I don’t want to eat, I want to leave!” Her eyes lifted and gone was the motherly persona. “Sit down,” she demanded in the tone Nigel was accustomed to and he was startled to find himself obeying. She nodded and started off rocking again. Nigel was annoyed that he had listened and immediately started to rise again, but the aroma of the soup was almost intoxicating familiar. He inhaled deeply and tried to place the scent. “Sweet mushroom soup!” he exclaimed, surprised. He hadn’t had it since he was a very young boy, when his mother used to cook it. “Your favourite,” Cawvers replied. It was his favourite, but how did she know that? He stared at the soup, torn between having a taste of his past and suspicion. How did he know that she hadn’t drugged it? He pushed it away, remembering Sydney ’s rules of trusting no one, especially when kidnapped. “I’m not hungry.” “Drink your milk then.” Nigel rose and turned on her. “I will not! You let me out this…” His head reared back from the force of her slap and it almost knocked him to the floor. “Is that how I taught you to speak? Have you lost all respect, running around with that American woman?” Nigel held his sore face and stared at her, stunned. “I…I don’t…” He was horrified when she raised her hand again and he actually flinched. He was even more appalled when that same hand started to caress the spot it had just slapped. “I don’t like hurting you,” she insisted, her tone filled with remorse. “Why must you make me angry?” “Why have you brought me here?” “I had to get you away from that woman.” Cawvers took him by the shoulders and turned him around so he would sit down again. “I knew when I saw you yesterday, I knew you were finally ready.” “Ready for what?” “To come home, of course.” Cawvers picked up the spoon, scooped up some soup and held her hand over it as she moved it to his mouth. “Come along, you love this soup.” Nigel turned away. “I don’t want your bloody soup!” This time she knocked him off the chair. Before Nigel had a chance to rise from the floor he felt the horribly familiar sting of a cane across his back and legs. He tried to protect himself but whenever he reached out to grab the damned stick his fingers paid the price. His childhood fears and shame came rushing back and he instinctually curled into a fetal position as he tried to protect his head. Finally, she stopped. She kept hold of the cane and righted the chair back in front of the desk. “Sit up to the table, boy.” Nigel hesitated only a moment before crawling into the chair. His whole body was on fire and trembling from the beating. He was ashamed at his own reaction, but holy God she could wield that cane the way a lion tamer wielded a whip. She nodded, set the cane aside and retrieved more soup on the spoon. “Shall I do the aeroplane? You always loved that. Alright, here it comes.” She started making a sound like an engine as moved the spoon towards Nigel’s mouth and he stared at her. She was mad. Rather than risk her wrath again, he opened his mouth obediently and was rewarded by seeing Cawver smile, a very unpleasant thing indeed. “There, isn’t that good?” Nigel realized she was expecting a reply and he was sickened when he answered. “Yes, Mum.”
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