Before you go, I need the headmaster's number. Another question, was Mr Wilson married?'
'No he wasn't but Ms Kilmartin's head of the art department, she'll know who to contact.'
'Did you get hold of Grayson?' Yeats said to Eldridge.
'No answer. What do you want me to do?'
'Find a replacement Eldridge. I've met Dr Oakley who I gather fills in for him. Tell her I expect her here within the next fifteen minutes.'
Eldridge trundled back into the corridor, scrolled through his phone until he found the number. For all he was facing a severe reprimand over the gaming incident he was pissed off with Yeats' arrogant attitude. He wasn't in the army but it was beginning to feel like it. Dr Oakley was at home, and promised to leave immediately. She sounded nice and he realised he'd never met her before. Anyone was better than Grayson, Eldridge decided. Another bloke who thought the world revolved around him. Yeats was coming out of the art room. 'Let's talk to the cleaners,' he said.
By the time they all squeezed into the little staff quarters it didn't take Eldridge long to feel claustrophobic. Janet put the kettle on and Yeats pulled up a stool next to Libby. 'I understand this has been a big shock, but it's important you answer questions now before you forget,' he told her.
Libby lifted up her head. 'I understand,' she whispered.
'Before you found Mr Wilson did you hear anything suspicious, any unusual noises?'
Libby turned to Janet. 'I didn't, which is strange considering I was closest to the art rooms.'
Janet carried on making the tea. 'I heard something, but I've no idea what it was. I wanted to check there was nobody inside the school, but felt scared. With the new security system, I can't see how anyone could get in. Only the staff could.'
Yeats added sugar to his mug of tea. 'Staff knew the code but no one else.'
'That's what I'm told. Not that many of them come back here at night, only if they forget something or need a bit of peace and quiet to work. I'm nearly always gone before nine o'clock, even after working overtime. After that I haven't a clue what happens.'
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door and a slim redheaded woman poked her head in. 'Can someone point me in the right direction?'
Yeats immediately got up. 'Dr Oakley,' he held out his hand. 'Liam Yeats, I'll show you the way. Eldridge, take over here. I want names and telephone numbers for every staff member including the head teacher. Tell him to get here quickly.'
CHAPTER SIX
Elizabeth sat in the Saab and watched as two vans pulled away from the warehouse car park. It was nearly nine o'clock and she'd been stuck in the stifling. grimy building for almost three hours. What had started out as a routine burglary investigation had rapidly turned into a farce when the brothers who owned the business refused them access to the basement as the keys had gone missing. Patterson suspected they were running some kind of scam and Elizabeth had ordered the doors to be removed.
Requesting an inventory for the alleged stolen goods had caused another major problem. Patterson reminded the Faraday brothers they could hardly trace their property without descriptions. Eventually the two men cobbled together an almost indecipherable list which Elizabeth had spent a stupid amount of time translating and discovered to her horror many of the items were bordering on illegal.
Approximately half the products the brothers distributed were sex toys destined for shops specialising in the cheaper end of the market. However, their distribution network did not end there. It was clear to Elizabeth the most profitable goods were those making their way to outlets selling BDSM paraphernalia to private individuals. She knew the term BDSM dated back to the late sixties. The letters were an abbreviation of bondage and discipline with sadomasochism. Over the years, the practise had become more widely known due to the increase in books and films covering the