The Teacher: A shocking and compelling new crime thriller – NOT for the faint-hearted! Read Online Free PDF Page A

undergoing refurbishment after a large sum of money was bequeathed to the museum when the former director died just a few months ago. They had been trying for the last fifteen years to get the funding to put the place back together. Only fourteen of the possible thirty-two exhibition rooms had been open to the public for quite some time, with most of the smaller ones on the second floor closed. The museum had been ravaged by an electrical fire around twenty years ago, bad wiring and a faulty circuit breaker had caused damage to at least a quarter of the building. As the owners had been unable to fix the place straight away, some of the rooms had been cordoned off or used as storage until they had enough money to go ahead with the refurb. The Neo-Gothic museum, built in the eighteenth century, housed various Celtic and Roman artefacts that had been discovered in the local area. It was also home to a huge menagerie of various animals, costumes and fossils. Fortunately the damage was predominantly cosmetic. The new colour on the walls was vermillion red, almost a bright orange. Abbey didn’t think it belonged in a place like this, it was garish and distasteful. The red was a far cry from the drab Georgian grey that had been the colour in every single exhibit room since she had started here. Now each room had an accent colour, as per the interior designer’s remit. Of course the most striking had to be the entrance. It was less of an accent colour and more of a full assault on the senses.
    ‘Abbey!’ Mr Lowestoft, the director, exclaimed with a winning smile. He was a gentle old man. Like a grandfather, with his round glasses, ruddy cheeks and novelty dickie bow, he always brought a warm feeling to her. It had been that way from the start. He had not only welcomed her but made her feel like this was her home. Every time he said hello it was as though he were greeting a beloved family member. Mr Lowestoft was one of the few people in the world who put her at ease.
    ‘Mr Lowestoft, hello.’ She smiled, a real smile full of genuine warmth, truly glad to see the old man. His presence in the museum had decreased since he had received the cancer diagnosis. A finished, fully functioning museum was to be his parting legacy.
    ‘Ah, Abbey, I was hoping you would be here. What do you think? Do you like it?’ He beamed, glowing with pride.
    ‘It looks amazing.’ She didn’t have the heart to tell him anything different.
    ‘I’ve been asked by the University if we would accommodate one of their PhD students for the foreseeable future while he writes his thesis on historic preservation, or something to that effect. I thought you would be the best person to deal with him.’
    ‘Me?’ She didn’t know what else to say to that. She was used to working alone, she liked it that way.
    ‘Oh, and I’ve got another surprise for you! Come and see!’ He walked over to something large covered in a sheet, reluctantly she followed. She hated surprises. He pulled at the sheet and she was confronted with the grimacing mask of a samurai looking down on her from his lofty frame. His rigid leather body armour was polished to the point where she could see her reflection. ‘I never understood why we keep this hidden upstairs. It’s one of my favourite pieces.’
    An evil grin was spread across the surface of the mask and a gaping black hole where the eyes should be. The demonic red horns that protruded from the helmet and towered above the face were razor sharp, menacing. She had forgotten just how vile the warrior’s face was. It had been years since she had seen him, always walking the long way around to avoid ever walking in his path. The face had always seemed so inhuman and she could feel the black nothing staring into her. Involuntarily she found herself stepping backwards. She didn’t want to have a panic attack; she had to get away from him.
    ‘It looks perfect here.’ She stepped back further, flustered, off balance.
    ‘Are you