Alex Gray - Glasgow Kiss

SCHOOLGIRL MURDERED:

POLICE QUESTION MEN

A pupil from Muirpark Secondary School was found brutally murdered near Dawsholm Park yesterday. Julie Donaldson, aged fifteen, had been missing from school and home on the day of the murder. Sources close to the teenager say that she was upset following allegations that one of her teachers had sexually assaulted her during a school camp holiday. The teacher in question, Mr Eric Chalmers, has already been suspended on full pay pending an inquiry. Police have questioned two men overnight, both of whom have been released. It is believed that Mr Chalmers had been asked to accompany police officers to their divisional headquarters immediately after a preliminary investigation by the education authorities into his conduct but left some time later.

Frank Donaldson, fifty-two, broke down in tears as he spoke about his daughter. ‘Julie was the light of our lives,’ he said. ‘She was a happy girl who had lots of friends. We simply can’t understand why anyone would want to harm her.’ Mr Donaldson went on to say how much he and his wife appreciated the overwhelming support from members of the community, especially Julie’s immediate school friends and their families.

No arrests have yet been made and the police are still asking for anyone who saw Julie on the afternoon or evening of August nineteenth to come forward.

Barbara Cassidy, senior reporter

Frank stared at the column, reading it over and over again, then looked up at Mary, his lower lip trembling.

‘They’ve let him go?’ Then his face crumpled and he drove one fist against the newspaper. ‘They’ve let him go!’ he screamed.

Mary backed away, heart pounding, as the stream of obscenities left her husband’s mouth. This would do no good at all. Frank had it all wrong, she was certain of that, just as she was sure Julie had made up the whole sordid little story about that nice young man having attacked her. Mary Donaldson was no expert on human behaviour but she’d been around long enough to know the difference between a decent man and a bad one. Mr Chalmers hadn’t done what Julie said he had. And he surely had no hand in her killing.

Frank’s face was red with fury as he thumped the wall with his hand, leaving a mark. Mary shivered. The man who stood there filling the kitchen with his frustration and grief was far more likely to vent his anger against another human being than Julie’s teacher ever was. But there was no way this side of eternity that she was going to express that particular thought.

The Gazette had done their dirty work for them, Maggie thought, pushing the newspaper deeper into her satchel. Already crowds of kids were huddled together in their different year areas and she could practically feel the tension in the air as she strode across the playground towards the main building. A few heads turned her way, and she caught their appraising glances. It was the detective’s wife they saw, not Mrs Lorimer of the English department. Most of them would know by now, Muirpark Secondary’s bush telegraph having done its work. It would help to make life a little easier for the registration teachers, but there might still be kids who hadn’t heard the news and were still to be shocked by Julie’s murder. And there were bound to be questions, particularly from her articulate Sixth Years who would want answers from her. She made a face. Being the wife of DCI William Lorimer had given Maggie a wee bit of notoriety following her husband’s successful apprehension of a multiple murderer, just weeks before term began. Then the Gazette was full of praise for the senior officer who, unarmed, had faced down the gun-wielding killer. But all news was short-lived and today’s would surely fade out as soon as someone was arrested.

Maggie Lorimer clenched her teeth as she walked along the glass-sided corridor that overlooked the playground. It wouldn’t fade out so quickly for those poor parents, for Julie’s friends. Or, she reminded herself, for Eric and Ruth and their families. Bill was never slow to remind her just how many victims there were whenever a murder was committed. And looking down now at the kids trooping in to the sound of the bell, she told herself that there was going to be one hell of a lot of young folk numbered among the victims today.

Maggie’s eyes were drawn to the frieze of pupils’ work that one of her colleagues had mounted on the corridor wall and she slowed down to read some of their offerings. It was early in the session for anything new to be displayed. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she took in the ‘First Impressions of Muirpark Secondary School’. S1 had not pulled any punches. These kids seemed unafraid to criticise any aspect of their new regime, she thought, noting their opinions on everything from school dinners to the amount of books they had to carry from class to class. Maggie was so absorbed that she didn’t notice him at first.

‘You’ve heard, then?’ Tim Wetherby, one of Maggie’s Sixth Year boys, stood just outside her classroom door, barring her way. Maggie took one step back so that none of her form class could see them together. If Tim wanted to talk then it would be in private, away from any curious eyes.

‘Naturally, given that my husband’s in charge of the case.’

‘And you’ve seen this .’ Tim pulled a copy of the Gazette from behind his back.

‘They’re trying to make it look like Mr Chalmers murdered Julie, aren’t they?’

‘Trial by media is something we should be used to by now,’ Maggie replied cynically. ‘Not that I’d condone it for one minute,’ she added. ‘The press has its uses and can be positively helpful when reporters cooperate with an investigation. But,’ she shrugged and made a move towards the classroom door, ‘some of them don’t always look at it that way. Some of them’, she gave a deliberate glance towards the headlines on Tim’s paper, ‘are far more interested in the kudos of getting to a story before anyone else. Anyway,’ she said, tilting her head to one side, ‘your sister must be in a bit of a state. I take it she’s not in today.’

Tim dropped his gaze. ‘Yeah, Mum thought it best if she took a bit of time off. It’s been hard on her. .’ He trailed off, reluctant to voice the problems between his parents that had no doubt reached the ears of his teachers.

Maggie put a hand gently on his arm. ‘Tim, it’s been hard on you both. The school understands that and given this tragic event-’ She broke off, biting her lip. ‘Well, let’s just say that there will be professional counselling services offered from today. And everyone can take advantage of them. Do you know what I’m saying?’

The boy’s head flew up suddenly. ‘Me and Sam don’t need a shrink to sort us out, thanks. We’re doing just fine.’ And shaking off her hand, the boy held open the classroom door to let Maggie enter, a small courtesy designed, she was sure, to demonstrate just how in control he was.

The door closed behind him and for once Maggie felt trapped inside her own room. Even the familiar things like her favourite posters and the daft cartoons she’d pinned beside her desk failed to comfort her. Every eye was upon her, waiting.

She swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

‘Many of you already know about Julie Donaldson,’ she began. One or two of them looked puzzled and Maggie knew she was going to have to spell this out.

‘I’m terribly sorry to have to be the one to tell you this,’ she said, her voice softening as she was suddenly all too aware of the vulnerability in some of these young faces. ‘Julie Donaldson — your classmate — has been found dead in Dawsholm Woods.’

A gasp from the back of the classroom told Maggie that for at least one person this was news and she broke off for a moment, letting the awful news sink in.