Peter Robinson - Many Rivers to Cross

‘So what can I do for you?’ he asked. ‘You were suitably non-committal on the telephone.’

‘Occupational habit,’ said Banks.

‘Well, I know I haven’t committed any crimes, so unless things are going to take a positively Kafkaesque turn, I will assume that you want to see me about some aspect of the school. A pupil, perhaps?’

‘I’ll come straight to the point, Mr Bowen. It’s about Christopher Myers. He is a pupil here, right?’

‘Yes. Yes, of course he is. But I’m puzzled. What could Chris possibly have done that merits police involvement?’

‘It would be best if I didn’t talk about that just for the moment.’

‘You’re fishing?’

‘We call it looking for evidence.’

‘Ah. Semantics.’

‘Mr Myers is helping us with our enquiries,’ said Gerry.

Bowen laughed, and even Banks managed a smile. ‘Got it in one, DC Masterson,’ he said.

‘Well, in that case,’ Bowen went on, ‘I’m still not sure how I can help you, but ask away.’

‘Has Myers ever been in trouble?’

‘No more than any other boy his age. The usual adolescent pranks.’

‘Smoking behind the cycle sheds?’

‘I’m afraid our cycle sheds don’t offer that much cover. Besides, you’d be surprised how many young people just don’t seem to smoke these days.’

‘Not cigarettes, at any rate.’

‘We don’t tolerate drugs here, Superintendent.’

‘According to our information, Myers was issued with a stern warning last year after being discovered at a party where drugs and alcohol were present. He was seventeen at the time.’

‘That did get back to me, and I certainly had words with him, as I’m certain his father did. I repeat, though, we don’t tolerate drugs here at St Botolph’s, and there have been no issues along those lines involving Chris Myers.’

‘Anybody else?’

‘That would be between myself and their parents.’

‘Me and his or her parents,’ said Banks.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Don’t mind me. Semantics again. I’m just old-fashioned. I even use the subjunctive on occasion.’

Bowen smiled. ‘A regular Philip Marlowe.’

‘One of my heroes. OK, so Myers hasn’t been involved in drugs here. Is there anything else we should know? Does he get into fights, for example?’

Bowen frowned. ‘Not that I know of. I’m not saying we don’t have any fights here. Of course, it happens. Boys will be boys and all that. But not Myers.’

‘Any trouble with weapons? Knives, especially.’

‘With Myers?’

‘Anyone.’

‘No. Naturally, they’re not allowed on school premises, and I’m happy to report that we’ve had no incidents, and I have never had to confiscate one. None of the other masters have, either, as far as I know.’

‘Would they tell you?’

‘Anything like that would have to be reported.’

‘To the police, too?’

‘Definitely. If we thought crime was involved. Possessing a dangerous weapon would be very high on our list of reportable offences.’

‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Is there anything else?’

Banks glanced at Gerry. ‘We’re trying to get a general sense of what Chris Myers is like,’ she said. ‘What kind of boy he is. We were thinking this would be a good place to start.’

Bowen’s tone changed when he spoke to Gerry, much as his facial expression did when he looked at her. Definitely something there, thought Banks.

‘On the whole I’d say he’s pretty normal,’ Bowen said.

‘Good at sports?’

‘Reasonably. He’s not much of a rugby player, but then, neither was I. If I had to pick his sport, I’d opt for tennis. Not Wimbledon quality, mind you, but definitely passable.’

‘And academically?’

‘He’s bright. Could apply himself more, but that’s hard when you’re eighteen and your hormones are raging. Terrible time in life to be doing exams, I’d have thought.’

Gerry laughed. ‘At least there are no girls here to distract him.’

‘Yes,’ said Bowen. ‘I thought that was rather a pity when I first came, but I suppose I’ve got used to it by now. I’m still not sure it’s entirely healthy, but I doubt it does any lasting harm. After all, Myers is a day boy, so what he gets up to when he goes home is out of our control. No doubt there are parties and girls.’

‘Does he have a girlfriend?’ Banks asked.

‘I have no idea about his private life,’ said Bowen. ‘I should imagine he’s much like any other young lad in that respect.’

‘Is he gay?’

‘Not to my knowledge. But you’d really have to ask him that question.’

‘Is he headed for Oxford?’ Gerry asked, picking up the questioning again.

‘It depends. He has an offer, but it’s contingent on his getting three A*s. He’ll have to buck his ideas up a bit for that result, and he doesn’t have much time left.’

‘So all in all, you’d say Chris Myers was a well-balanced boy, pretty typical for his age, maybe brighter than most, and with a promising future ahead of him?’

‘That would just about cover it,’ said Bowen.

‘You sound a little hesitant there,’ said Banks. ‘After all, you’ve just given the lad a glowing reference.’

‘Actually, those were your words.’

‘But you agreed,’ Banks said.

‘Up to a point. I mean, nobody’s perfect. Chris can be disobedient. He sometimes talks back to teachers, plays truant on occasion and, well, there was that drugs incident, even if it did take place out of school.’

‘What about bullying?’ Banks asked.

‘It happens. I won’t deny it. But we try and nip it in the bud if we can.’

‘Myers?’

Bowen shook his head. ‘No. Chris is neither a bully nor the victim of bullying.’

‘What about dishonesty? Plagiarism, cheating in exams, that sort of thing. What do you think of him morally?’

‘That’s a lot of questions,’ said Bowen. ‘As far as I know, he’s neither a cheat nor a plagiarist. My staff and I are quite aware that students can purchase essays over the Internet, for example, so we’re always on the lookout for anything that seems inauthentic. But I think you would be aware of it yourself, if you were a teacher. It’s usually not difficult to tell if the work a student presents isn’t his own. Chris has a perfectly fluent, though somewhat pedestrian, writing style. His spelling is usually correct — though that may well be due to a good spellcheck programme — and he is not without original ideas. I’m not making out he’s a genius or anything, but he has a good mind when he decides to use it.’ Bowen smiled to himself. ‘You might say that laziness is one of his less admirable attributes. But he usually gets the work done and does it well. Otherwise, there would be no possibility of his taking a place at Oxford.’ He put his hands palms down on the desk and half stood. ‘And there,’ he announced, ‘I have to leave things. I have a class in fifteen minutes, and it wouldn’t do for the head to be late.’

Banks and Gerry stood and thanked him for his time. At the door, Gerry paused. ‘I got the impression when you endorsed the superintendent’s summary of Christopher’s character, that you weren’t entirely comfortable with it. Was there something he omitted? Something he got wrong?’

‘You’re very perceptive, DC Masterson,’ Bowen said, then to Banks, ‘You’d better watch her. She’ll go far.’

‘Oh, I know,’ said Banks. ‘Private school education. Cambridge. Chief constable next stop. I have no doubts.’

Bowen looked at Gerry again and raised an eyebrow. ‘Indeed. I’m even more impressed.’

Gerry blushed and struggled for composure. ‘Is there anything to it?’ she asked. ‘Did we miss something?’