Chương 5
“I will make a copy for the school file.”
“And the original?”
“To Sergeant Rochat.”
Elise held out her hand.
After a pause, Sabine returned the page.
“You may deliver it yourself.”
“Thank you.”
“It was not a concession.”
“No?”
“It was a correction.”
Sabine turned to leave. At the stairwell, she stopped without facing Elise.
“I have spent twenty-one years persuading parents that this school does not protect reputations at the expense of children.”
Elise waited.
Sabine descended without finishing the thought.
The morning arrived gray and colorless over Lake Geneva.
At six forty, the kitchen staff began moving breakfast carts through the service corridor. At seven, bells sounded softly in the residences. Girls emerged in navy skirts and cream sweaters, carrying hairbrushes, forgotten notebooks, and rumors.
By seven ten, three versions of the night had already reached the junior dining room.
A burglar had entered through the glass doors. Anouk had fallen down the stairs. A trustee had been arrested for stealing school money.
Elise stopped each story without replacing it.
“There was an incident involving a student,” she told the prefects. “She is safe. Speculation will make this harder for her.”
One girl asked whether Anouk was sick.
Another wanted to know why police had been outside.
Leila Marchand, the night prefect, stood near the toast station with her face pale.
“I should have noticed she left the floor,” she said when they were alone.
“You were checking six rooms after the alarm.”
“I was in the bathroom for three minutes.”
“You are sixteen.”
“You told me to listen.”
“I did.”
Leila waited for Elise to absolve her completely.
Elise could not. Not because Leila deserved blame, but because easy absolution felt dishonest.
“We will review what happened,” she said. “You should not have been the only person available on the floor. That was my decision.”
Leila looked down at the toast tongs in her hand. “Are you going to be fired?”
The question startled Elise.
“Why would you ask that?”
“My father says schools fire the person without the expensive lawyer.”
Then she returned the tongs to the tray and went to sit with the other prefects.
Nadine Keller arrived at seven twenty-three wearing travel-creased black trousers, a gray cashmere coat, and no makeup. She had come directly from the airport with a small suitcase and the rigid expression of someone holding herself together until she reached the correct room.
Anouk was eating half a piece of dry toast in the infirmary.
When her mother entered, the girl did not run to her. She went still.
Nadine crossed the room, dropped to her knees, and placed both hands on Anouk’s shoulders without touching the scrape.
“I am here.”
Anouk’s face collapsed only then.
She did not scream or wail. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth into her mother’s coat. The sounds she made were small and terrible.
Nadine held her. Her eyes remained open over the child’s head.
They settled on Elise.
“What happened?”
Elise began with the alarm, her descent, and the moment she entered the reception hall. Nadine listened without interrupting. When Elise described the folder, Nadine’s fingers spread across her daughter’s back.
“Did it touch her?”
“No.”
“He had already grabbed her wrist?”
“The corridor footage shows him holding it.”
“Shows him holding it how?”
Elise chose her words carefully. “His hand was closed around her wrist while he moved her through the corridor. She appeared to pull away.”
“Appeared?”
“I don’t want to tell you more than the recording proves.”
Nadine stared at her.
“That is a very careful sentence.”
“Yes.”
“Were you careful when you called the police?”
“No.”
Something in Nadine’s expression shifted, not toward trust but away from immediate contempt.
Anouk lifted her head. “Madame Hartmann stood in front.”
Her mother brushed damp hair from her cheek. “I know.”
“I broke the bottle Papa gave me.”
Nadine looked at the cracked bottle on the bedside table.
“We’ll keep it.”
“It leaks.”
“Then we won’t put water in it.”
This answer seemed acceptable.
Sabine entered ten minutes later with Céline and Sergeant Rochat. The room became crowded, and Anouk withdrew into silence again.
Nadine stood before the headmistress could offer her hand.
“I want my daughter removed from this school today.”
Sabine nodded. “That is your right.”
“I want copies of every recording.”
“The police have preserved the relevant footage.”
“I did not ask what the police have.”
“There are privacy restrictions involving other students and staff. We will provide what we are permitted to provide through the proper process.”
“My child is visible in it.”
“And so is another person whose rights—”
Nadine laughed once. “Do not begin with his rights.”
“I am explaining the process, not equating their positions.”
“You employed the man.”
“He is not an employee.”
“You gave him access to the building after midnight.”
Sabine paused.
That answer was less simple.
Victor possessed a trustee access card for board meetings, events, and scheduled administrative work. He had entered at eleven thirty-two using his own credentials. The school’s electronic log recorded it. The night porter had recognized him and assumed his presence was authorized because the financing documents were due in the morning.
No one had explicitly scheduled his visit.
No one had stopped it.
“The access policy will be reviewed,” Sabine said.
Nadine’s anger sharpened. “Policies are what people discuss when they do not want to say a name.”
“Nadine,” Sergeant Rochat said, “I need to interview you and your daughter, but not until she has rested. The school cannot give you the police copy. I can explain how your lawyer may request access.”
“I am not leaving without something.”
“You are leaving with Anouk,” Elise said.
Everyone looked at her.
She continued. “That is the most important thing you came for.”
Nadine’s eyes narrowed. Elise wondered whether she had overstepped.
Then Anouk reached for her mother’s hand.
The room changed around that small movement.
May you like
Nadine sat beside her daughter.
“I want Madame Hartmann present when you speak to Anouk,” she told the sergeant.
