Swansong Read Online Free PDF

lights on. He winced at the thought of the electricity bill. The view was familiar to him from visits with hockey and rugby teams from St Dunstan’s and it hadn’t changed. He knew that the playing fields and sports hall were behind the main school and he remembered the long corridor with the tiled floor that ran the full length of the building. The only other thing he knew was where the dining room was.
    To the right of the school, as he looked up at it, was a smaller two storey building with a private garden enclosed by a high box hedge. This was the headmaster’s house. Dixon drove across the car park and parked in the corner close to the front door. He stepped out of the Land Rover and pulled up the collar of his coat before walking over and ringing the front doorbell.
    The door was opened by a woman in a tweed suit. Dixon smiled. At least he wouldn’t look out of place in his tweed jacket.
    ‘I’m looking for the headmaster. I believe he’s expecting me.’
    ‘Yes, of course. Won’t you come in? I’m Miranda Hatton, the headmaster’s wife.’
    Dixon stepped into the hall. As he did so a man, presumably the headmaster, appeared from behind the door opposite. A small springer spaniel ran out from behind him and began jumping up at Dixon. Mrs Hatton took hold of it by the collar.
    ‘Sorry about that,’ she said.
    ‘You’ll be Dixon,’ the man snapped.
    ‘Yes, Sir.’
    ‘You’re late.’
    ‘I wasn’t aware I had to be here at a specific time. Just as soon as I could.’
    ‘And this is as soon as you could, is it?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Well, it’ll have to do. Follow me.’
    Dixon followed the man along the corridor and into a room at the far end.
    ‘Sit down.’
    Dixon sat down on a leather sofa. The man poured himself a drink from a decanter on the sideboard. At the far end of the room was a desk.
    ‘Drink?’
    ‘No, thank you.’
    ‘My name’s Hatton. I’m the headmaster,’ said the man, sitting down in a leather armchair opposite Dixon. ‘Charlesworth tells me you’re St Dunstan’s?’
    ‘A long time ago, Sir.’
    ‘They’re not a bad lot.’
    ‘We used to say the same about Brunel.’
    ‘I bet you did,’ said Hatton, smiling. ‘I’m sorry about . . . well, anyway, this is all incredibly difficult for me. There’s nothing in the manual about dealing with a murder and the school governors are getting very jumpy. The idea that there’s someone running around out there who’s killed one of our pupils . . .’
    ‘Out there?’
    ‘Yes, of course. They’re not going to be in here, are they?’
    Dixon did not reply.
    ‘It stands to reason. You’re not seriously suggesting someone in the school did it?’
    ‘I really don’t know, Sir.’
    ‘Is that why Charlesworth sent you in here?’
    ‘I don’t think he knows either.’
    ‘Inspires confidence, doesn’t it?’
    ‘It’s my job to find out . . .’
    ‘Well, for God’s sake, be discreet about it. Whatever you find, we don’t want to see it ending up in the papers. It could be devastating for the school.’
    ‘A girl is dead . . .’
    ‘I know that,’ said Hatton. ‘We just need to be careful how it’s handled, that’s all.’
    Dixon nodded. He could hear his mother’s voice ringing in his ears, ‘ If you haven’t got anything useful to say, say nothing at all. ’
    ‘Now, I’ve arranged for you to work with Mr Phillips. He teaches chemistry but is also in charge of school discipline, so it’ll give you a good insight into what’s going on,’ continued Hatton. ‘He doesn’t know who you are, of course.’
    ‘Good.’
    ‘I did send an email to all staff letting them know you’d be here until the end of term.’
    ‘What name did you use?’
    ‘Dickson, but I spelt it with a “cks” instead of an “x” just in case anyone saw the news the other day. That was quite a show you put on at Taunton Racecourse.’
    Dixon rolled his eyes. ‘You heard about that?’
    ‘I was there,’ replied