Angels and Apostles: Not Every Sinner Escapes. An instantly addictive crime thriller full of stunning twists and thrills. Vigilante crime fiction justice ... squad chief. (A Dark T by Tony Hutchinson

Author:Tony Hutchinson [Hutchinson, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cheshire Cat Books Ltd
Published: 2018-12-13T22:00:00+00:00

‘I’d rather hoped you would be here sooner.’

Ian Stirling, the bean-pole headmaster, greeted them in the school foyer wearing a grey suit as dull as his smile and towered over Ed. His yellow dickie-bow hinted at a personality, but more likely it was a distraction from a face wrecked by hard liquor. Stirling might as well have had ‘alcoholic’ tattooed on his forehead, the ghostly white skin with patches of red from the mass of broken veins telling a story no one could fail to follow.

His nose, a bulbous luminous glow, meant he’d be in with a chance of a one-night gig if anything happened to a certain reindeer in the next few days.

‘I’ll be late for church.’

Ed stepped forward, the gap between him and the headmaster narrower than was polite. The veins in Ed’s neck were bulging so much they were forming an escape committee. He was in no mood for niceties, the early morning row with his wife fresher than Stirling’s booze-rancid breath.

‘We left the north-east at 5am,’ Ed growled. ‘I have sat in a car for over six hours because you wanted to speak to us. Maybe you can go to church later, maybe not, I don’t really care, but I’m sure the victims of your former colleague will be grateful that after all these years somebody on the staff has finally done something for them, even if it’s only missing church.’

The headmaster puffed out his ingrowing chest and glared at Sam.

Sam smiled. Stirling’s aggression and intimidation might work with children but he was in her playground now.

‘You should see him on a bad day,’ Sam said pleasantly. ‘Now if we can get on? We do have another six hour drive ahead of us.’

Stirling turned on his heels without a word.

Ed nudged Sam and mouthed ‘wanker’ as they began to follow.

Sam smiled, nodded in agreement.

Stirling led them into a mahogany-panelled office, bookcases covering every inch of wall space, all filled to capacity. A fountain pen sat on the green leather inlay of the desktop, the only item on the desk apart from a Tiffany lamp.

Sam and Ed sat on the maroon leather high back Milton armchairs; the type found in a cigar-smoke filled Gentleman’s Club.

‘You had some information for us,’ Sam said, glancing at the Christmas cards on the windowsill: Victorian carol singers, churches, Dickens’ London. Not a cartoon Santa in sight.

The headmaster shuffled in his seat. ‘Jeremy Scott was, as you know, on the staff. I was young, probably the newest member of staff, certainly the youngest. You hear rumours…hear accusations… from the boys…’

He shook his head.

‘But you did nothing?’ Sam said.

‘I thought they were making it up.’ Stirling’s eyes darted around, anxious to sound sincere. ‘Jeremy was an old fashioned disciplinarian and I thought the boys were just getting their own back. He was an excellent teacher and, of course, he was acquitted.’

Ed uncrossed his legs and leaned forward in the chair, oozing as much aggression as he could without grabbing Stirling by his bird-thin neck.

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