Page 110 of Dying Truth
‘You are out of your minds, officers,’ he said, looking from one to the other. ‘Monty wouldn’t hurt a soul.’
‘Does the name Joanna Wade mean anything to you?’
He shook his head, still reeling from their words.
‘I don’t know that name. Is that the lady that was… that…’
‘Yes,’ Kim confirmed. ‘That’s the woman that Monty hit. She died at the scene.’
‘I honestly don’t recognise the name.’
‘She is… was an English teacher at a place called Heathcrest which is…’
‘I know exactly what it is,’ he whispered, reaching out to the sofa for support. All colour had drained from his face.
‘Mr Downing, what is it?’ Kim asked.
‘Dear God,’ he said to himself. ‘Will that infernal place never let us go?’
Seventy-Six
Kim and Bryant had waited patiently while Rupert poured himself a generous measure of whisky. He sipped, scowled at the burning in his throat and then sipped again.
‘Monty and I met at Heathcrest when we were fourteen years old. I was the new boy having moved into the area.’
‘There was room for you?’ Kim asked, remembering the pregnant couple being shown around, planning years in advance.
‘My father is Lord Rumsey. If your parents are wealthy and powerful enough, they’ll make room,’ he said, taking another sip.
Kim wasn’t sure who Lord Rumsey was, but clearly, he’d been known to the people at Heathcrest.
‘On my second day, I received the ace of spades in my bed.’
Kim frowned.
‘The calling card to join one of the most influential clubs on site,’ he said. ‘Completely expected, of course. I’d been a member of a similar club at my previous school. I accepted, obviously, thinking it would be similar to my old place.’
‘And it wasn’t?’ Kim asked.
‘Good gracious, no,’ he said. ‘Far more rules and regulations that were dressed up as guidelines. But Monty and I soon found out they were not merely guidelines.’
‘Go on,’ Kim said, sitting forward, remembering how they had all been amused at Dawson paying so much attention to these secret societies. She wasn’t laughing now.
‘A very important guideline was no fraternising with members of the other male group. You see, Monty was a Club at that time. The Four of Clubs.
‘We both thought it was a silly rule and ignored it. We were found out and suitably advised, verbally, by our Kings. We ignored the warning and continued to see each other in secret. Of course, we were found out again and the second warning was a little rougher.’
‘You were hurt?’
He nodded. ‘We both were. My punishment was a broken ankle on the hockey pitch, and Monty a dislocated shoulder due to falling down some stairs.’
‘And did the warning work?’ she asked, wondering how far these groups went in enforcing the rules.
He sighed heavily. ‘Not for me but it did for Monty. He was threatened with excommunication from the group. A thought he couldn’t bear. Being part of the elite was more important to Monty than it was to me.’
‘But you’re together now, so…’
‘Oh, it gets worse, officer,’ he said, lighting a cigarette. ‘We went our separate ways. I built my own business trading textiles, which grew into a success over twenty years.’
