Well-Schooled in Murder (Inspector Lynley)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
When thirteen-year-old Matthew Whately goes missing from Bredgar Chambers, a prestigious public school in the heart of West Sussex, aristocratic Inspector Thomas Lynley receives a call for help from the lad's housemaster, who also happens to be an old school chum. Thus, the inspector, his partner, Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers, and forensic scientist Simon Allcourt-St. James find themselves once again outside their jurisdiction and deeply involved in the search for a child—and then, tragically, for a child killer. Questioning prefects, teachers, and pupils closest to the dead boy, Lynley and Havers sense that something extraordinarily evil is going on behind Bredgar Chambers's cloistered walls. But as they begin to unlock the secrets of this closed society, the investigation into Matthew's death leads them perilously close to their own emotional wounds—and blinds them to the signs of another murder in the making....
From the Paperback edition.
taken them to complete it? Or the hours of pleasure they had got from the work? He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. All he could do was mutter words of sympathy that would be forgotten as soon as Mattie was lowered into the ground. That little body on the stainless steel cart. Waiting for the knife that would cut through muscle and tissue, that would remove organs for examination, that would seek and probe and relentlessly investigate until a cause of death was found. What did it matter? Putting a
watched as Lynley began to bag each article of clothing. “We’ve an entirely different case now, don’t we, sir?” “In part, yes. All Matthew’s clothes are accounted for. Leisure clothes, games clothes, school clothes. Unless we want to assume that for some bizarre reason he left the campus stark naked on Friday afternoon, we have to conclude that he never intentionally left the campus at all. Someone spirited him away.” “Alive or dead?” “We don’t know that yet.” “But you’ve a guess, haven’t
afternoon. All the boys are on the playing field. Games going on. It’s after lunch so I’d stay away from the kitchen where the skivvies are doing their cleaning up. Boys might be coming and going in the houses. Girls as well, in Galatea and Eirene. So I’d go for one of the storage areas. In the theatre, perhaps. Or in science or maths.” “Not in one of the buildings in the main quad?” “Too close to the administration wing, I’d say. Unless…” “Go on.” “The chapel. The vestry. That rehearsal hall
those exam results high?” Lockwood rubbed his palm across a patch of angry, razor-worn skin on his neck. “You have an irritating habit of skirting issues, Inspector. Hardly behaviour I’d expect from the police. Why don’t you ask me what you want to ask me and avoid all the subterfuge?” Lynley smiled. “I’m merely wondering if Giles Byrne called in a debt that didn’t work out in your plans for the school. If you were intent upon sending as many students as possible to Cambridge or Oxford—or at
drooping onto his brow. His nose was too large, his mouth and eyes were too small, and, from forehead to chin, his face narrowed so dramatically that it resembled a perfect inverted triangle. He was quite tall and thin, and although his clothes appeared expensive—hand-loomed tweed, if Lynley wasn’t mistaken—they hung upon him loosely. His long arms dangled from his jacket, emphasising large, knobby-knuckled hands. These were jaundiced-looking, particularly the fingers which, on left and right