Caroline Judge replaced the telephone receiver with uncharacteristic hesitation. She had immediately recognized the caller as the burly policeman who had come to her office some weeks before. She recalled his warning, and was prepared for a few minutes of glib reassurance to lay the suspicious official mind to rest. But the lieutenant appeared to know more than he could reasonably be expected to know about one of the pupils in her charge. She was not naïve about state security in an autocracy like San Timoteo, but foreign schools were not usually interesting enough for police scrutiny. The policeman had questions about an eleven-year-old called Craig Anderson. His father, by all accounts a playboy with no known employer or place of business, was a generous benefactor to the school, and sat on its governing council. Caroline Judge had at best a nodding acquaintance with him. Handsome, gregarious, said to be a serial seducer, he figured prominently from time to time in the local English press, usually pictured on his yacht in Puerto Azul, tanned and bronze, making eyes at the camera. He had an invisible wife somewhere, and a son he doted on.
Ill at ease, Caroline decided to check the student registry herself rather than ask office staff to do it for her, so on Helen’s lunch break, she went to the vault to inspect the records. An official form listed Craig’s and his parents’ nationality as Canadian, which, given his accent, was unsurprising. His birth date was as it should be, but oddly, there was no mention of birthplace, although his father’s was listed as Geneva and his mother’s as Medellin in Colombia. Nevertheless, Caroline called the number on his card, prepared to do her best to lay Lieutenant Gutierrez’s suspicions to rest.
She was disconcerted to discover that she could not. With a delicacy and icy politeness she had not suspected the lieutenant of possessing, Captain Gutierrez, as he now was, informed her stiffly that he knew that, in the past, Escuela Inglesa had indeed permitted native-born pupils to enrol, and even graduate, from the school. He named two former students known by reputation to Caroline, accurately described their parents’ circumstances, and laid out the penalties they and the school would incur if prosecuted.
‘I know that this happened before your time, senorita,’ said Gutierrez kindly, in fluent English, to Caroline’s surprise, ‘but I wish to spare you embarrassment, and the school any negative publicity. I think I can rely on your professional discretion. We are a developing nation. Our justice system is, sadly, corruptible. I have evidence of wrongdoing here, but there is reason to believe that someone intervened or looked the other way in the Anderson case. Anderson, by the way, is not his real name. He is a bigger fish than you can imagine. Our department is investigating him for some irregularities I am not permitted to disclose. At any rate, we believe someone is hindering our ongoing investigation. So I must be circumspect.’
