Expecting to be asked into an anteroom and vetted by a secretary first, Banks was surprised when he and Susan found themselves in the head’s office. Like the rest of the building, it had a high ceiling with elaborate cornices, but there its ancient character ended.

The wainscoting, if there had been any, had been removed and the walls were papered in an attractive Laura Ashley print. A shaded electric light hung from the old chandelier fixture, and several gunmetal filing cabinets stood against the wall. The bay window dominated the room, its window seat scattered with cushions that matched the wallpaper. The view through the trees to the river, Banks noticed, was magnificent, even on a drizzly November morning. Across the river was St. Mary’s Park, with its pond, trees, benches and children’s playground.

“What do you think?” Dr. Green asked, after they had introduced themselves and shaken hands.

“Pardon?” said Banks.

She took their raincoats and hung them on a rack in the corner. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were ‘casing the joint’ as they say,” she said.

“Hardly,” said Banks. “That’s what the bad guys do.”

She blushed slightly. “Oh, dear. My gaffe. I suppose criminal parlance is not my forte.”

Banks smiled. “Just as well. Anyway, it’s very nice.”

The tall, elegant Dr. Julia Green looked every bit as Laura Ashley as her walls. The skirt and waistcoat she wore over her white blouse were made of heavy cloth; earth colors dominated, browns and greens, mixed with the odd flash of muted pink or yellow, like wildflowers poking their way through the undergrowth.

Her ash-blonde hair lay neatly piled and curled on her head, with only one or two loose strands. She had a narrow face, high cheekbones and a small nose. There was also a remote, unattainable quality about her that intrigued Banks. She might be one of the pale and distant beauties, but there was no mistaking the sharp glint of intelligence in her apple-green eyes. Right now, they also looked red from crying.

“This is a terrible business,” she said. “Though I suppose you have to deal with it all the time.”

“Not often,” said Banks. “And you never get used to it.”

“Please, sit down.”

Banks and Susan sat in the two chairs opposite the small, solid desk. Susan took her notebook out.

“I don’t know how I can help you,” Dr. Green went on, “but I’ll do my best.”

“Maybe you could start by telling us what kind of a girl Deborah was.”

She rested her hands on the desk, tapered fingers laced together. “I can’t tell you very much,” she said. “Deborah is…was…a day-girl. Do you know how the system works?”

“I don’t know much about public schools at all.”

“Independent school,” she corrected him. “Public school sounds so Victorian, don’t you think? Well, you see, we have a mix of day-girls and boarders. The actual balance changes slightly from year to year, but at the moment, we have 65 day-pupils and 286 boarding. When I say that Deborah was a day-girl I don’t describe her status in any way, just note the simple fact that she came and went each day, so one didn’t develop any special relationship with her.”

“Relationship?”

“Yes. Well, when you live in such close proximity to the pupils, you’re bound to get to know more about them, aren’t you?”

“In what way?”

“In any number of ways. Whether it be the crisis of Elizabeth ’s first period, Meredith’s parents’ divorce or Barbara’s estrangement from her mother. These things can’t help but come out from time to time with the boarding pupils.”

“So you’d soon find out who’s a troublemaker, for example?”

“Yes. Not that we have any troublemakers. Nothing serious, anyway. We did catch one girl smoking marijuana in the dorm last year, and some years ago one of our upper-sixth girls got pregnant. But these are extremes, you understand, quite rare.”

“Have you ever had any inkling of widespread problems here?”

“Such as what?”

“Drugs, perhaps, or pornography.”

“Chief Inspector, this isn’t a comprehensive, you know.”

“Perhaps not. But girls will be girls.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that, but to answer your question, no, there’s been nothing of that nature at St. Mary’s.”

“Do you live on the school grounds?”

Dr. Green nodded. “There’s a small block of flats for members of staff-for some of us, anyway-and I live there.”

“Alone?”

“Yes. Alone.”

“So what can you tell me about Deborah Harrison?”

Dr. Green shrugged. “Just superficial things, really. She was a bright girl. Very intelligent. I don’t think there’s much doubt she would have ended up at Oxford or Cambridge, had she lived.”

“Where did her strengths lie?”

“She was something of an all-rounder, but she excelled in the sciences-maths and physics, in particular. She was also good at modern languages. She had just entered the lower sixth this year. The school offers twenty-three subjects at A-level. Deborah was taking four: mathematics, French, German and physics.”

“What about her personality?”

Dr. Green leaned back and put her hands on the arms of her chair. “Again, I can only be fairly superficial.”

“That’s all right.”

“She always seemed cheerful and lively. You know, some girls can get very moody and withdrawn in the lower sixth-they go through a very difficult period in their lives-but Deborah seemed to be outgoing. She was an outstanding athlete. Swimming, tennis, running, field events. She was a good equestrian, too.”

“I understand she belonged to the chess club?”

“Yes. She was a fine player. A superb strategist.”

“You sound as if you play, yourself.”

She smiled. “Moderately well.”

“I’d appreciate it if you could provide me with a list of the other members.”

“Of course.” Dr. Green searched through one of the filing cabinets and handed Banks a sheet of paper with ten names on it. Then she paused, scratched her cheek, and said, “I must admit, Chief Inspector, the questions you’re asking surprise me.”

“They do? Why?”

“Well, I know nothing of police work, of course, but I fail to understand why you should require my impressions of Deborah in order to apprehend the criminal who attacked and murdered her.”

“What kind of questions do you think I should be asking?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. About strangers in the area, that sort of thing.”

“Have you noticed any suspicious strangers hanging around the area lately?”

“No.”

Banks blew his nose. “Sorry. Well, that covers that one, doesn’t it? Now, what about Deborah’s faults?”

“Faults?”

“Yes, was she mischievous, disobedient, dishonest, willful?”

“No more than any other child of her age. Less than most, actually.” She thought for a moment. “No, I’d say if Deborah did have a fault it was that she tended to show off her abilities to some extent. She could sometimes make the other girls feel small, or awkward and clumsy. She had a tendency to belittle people.”

“Was she boastful?”

“Not at all. No, that’s not what I mean. She never boasted about her abilities, she just used them to the full. She wasn’t the kind to hide her light under a bushel. Half the time it was as if she didn’t even realize she was so much brighter and more fortunate than many. She liked the way her quickness with figures impressed people, for example, so she would add up or multiply things in her head quicker than some of the other girls could do it with a calculator.”

“That’s one good way to make enemies.” Banks remembered his own school math reports: Could do better than this; Harder work needed; Watch that arithmetic!

“It was hardly serious,” Dr. Green went on, shrugging. “Simply a matter of girlish exuberance, a young woman taking full joy in her talents.” Her eyes sparkled for a moment. “Have you forgotten what it was like to be young, to be popular, gifted?”