The Teacher: A shocking and compelling new crime thriller – NOT for the faint-hearted!. Katerina Diamond
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so careful that no one knew about his proclivities, aware that it would be a career ender for him and he really did love his job, if people only knew how these boys made him feel. For almost thirty years Jeff had worked here, thirty years and no trouble as yet.
The wish to escape the grounds as soon as possible became evident about an hour before the final bell rang. The classrooms got noisier and during the final break of the day the corridors buzzed with the noise of the children who would ordinarily obey the stringent rules about the noise levels around the establishment. When the time finally came, silence overtook the main building as the boarders made their way back to the halls and the day students got on their buses and went home.
He pulled out the book and felt the outside; even the touch of it brought back memories like an old familiar friend. His heart thumped as he traced his fingers across the title of the book: Das Geschenk, The Gift. He opened the book and started to read, his German wasn’t what it used to be but he knew this book well anyway. A firm believer in the old ways, Jeffrey had acquired this book for its historical relevance, for its insights into his ‘condition’ and how to change it. The book itself was out of print, rare and hard to find. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to get this, and he knew who. It had been a companion to him when he had been searching for answers about himself, about why he was the way he was, why he needed to surround himself with pubescent boys, why even the smell of a woman left him feeling cold.
The half-light of the summer night pulled in and Jeffrey opened out his laptop, sure that he was now alone in the building; even the cleaners would be gone. He plugged in his mobile device, not wanting to use the school’s network, and logged into a secure online photo storage website, furtively listening out for any noise in the school before entering his password. Folders and folders, each titled with a different year group, and within that a different name in alphabetical order: Jason, Marcus, Robert and so on. Jeffrey’s favourites. He wasn’t one of these idiots who kept the evidence on his hard drive, he was smarter than that, and he paid good money for his security on the dark net. He clicked the first folder titled ‘Daniel’ but it would not open, asking for a secondary password – this was not supposed to happen. Panicking, Jeffrey tried to open the other files, but he couldn’t. He wanted them gone, deleted, but he couldn’t access them. No one knew about these photos, not even the boys themselves. Who could have found out, and how?
He found himself humming an old tune, he stopped but the music continued from somewhere else in the building, faint and familiar. His heart sank, his time had come. Mahler, dark at the best of times, rang out like a toll bell, the all too familiar melody signalling an end that had been written in the stars for decades now.
Jeffrey opened his office door and looked down the corridor, listening. The music was coming from the main assembly hall. He started walking and the music grew louder and more distorted with every step. He remembered the symphony well, today had been full of nostalgia for a time that maybe he shouldn’t yearn to return to, a time when he caused so much pain.
This particular piece had the appropriate amount of thrill and dread for Jeffrey’s purposes at that time, deliberately ironic that it should be the last thing he ever heard.
He opened the double glass doors and screwed his eyes shut at the volume of the music, the distortion cutting through him. On the elevated platform at the front of the vast room was a chair, hanging above it was a noose. To the left was a table, covered in a red velvet cloth, almost ceremonial in its appearance. On top of the table was a beautiful black wooden box. The music stopped but his ears continued to ring as they adjusted to the silence.
‘Hello, old friend.’ A man’s voice, he didn’t recognise it, but it had been so long.
‘What do you want?’
‘This is not about what I want. This is what must be done.’
‘Why today, after all this time?’ Jeffrey was afraid to turn around and look at his downfall.
‘You don’t know what today is? It’s been eighteen years. Eighteen years since I saw exactly what kind of monster you are.’ The voice was so slow, so completely resolute; it was not as he expected.
‘If you think I’m going to hang myself, you’ve got another think coming.’ Jeff looked up at the noose.
‘I don’t think, I know,’ the man whispered with such resolve that Jeffrey understood he was not making a request.
‘You’ll have to force me and there will be evidence, they’ll know it wasn’t suicide,’ Jeffrey’s voice was panicked as he searched for a way out of this; feeling more pathetic with every word he uttered.
‘One way or another, you die today. It just works out better for me if it looks like suicide, but I’m happy to do it the fun way.’
‘You wouldn’t!’
‘I would! Make no mistake. I was there, remember? I saw what’s inside you. I saw the sickness.’
‘You wouldn’t tell anyone. Who would believe you over me?’
‘The pictures you took speak for themselves. The pictures you took of me back then, not to mention all the other boys since. I see you got rid of the hidden cameras in the changing rooms. Worried someone would figure out how much you like young boys?’
‘How did you know about those?’
‘I have been watching you. I put a key logger on your computer. That means I’ve been able to see every key stroke entered, every website, every password, every message you ever sent anywhere. I also put a VPN in. A private network so I have had access to your computer for several weeks now, not just access, but control.’
Jeffrey moved slowly towards the table, aware that the contents of the box could be almost anything, almost certain that it wouldn’t be anything as merciful as a gun. He could feel the man was standing close behind him, almost close enough to touch, he thought about reaching forward to pick up the box and swinging it round hard, smashing the bastard’s face in. But what if he was wrong? What if he wasn’t that close? What would he do to him then? Jeffrey couldn’t risk it.
‘I never touched any of them!’ Jeffrey whispered, aware of how disgustingly feeble he sounded.
‘But it’s only ever a matter of time when it comes to people like you, Jeffrey. You’ll do it again, you won’t be able to stop yourself. But even if you don’t, you could have a heart attack right here at your desk and when they go through your drawers they’ll find that flash drive. I have seen those pictures on those files. I’ve seen how you watch the boys. How long before you aren’t just looking any more? People find those files and they draw their own conclusions.’ The voice was so cold, so completely emotionless, not even mocking, nothing. ‘Don’t forget I saw first-hand how much you like to watch.’
Jeffrey drew in his breath as he felt a hand on the small of his back, slowly travelling upwards, gently sliding between the protruding bones of his shoulders. He imagined the hand on his bare skin as it reached the back of his neck, stroking tenderly, brushing through the sweaty tendrils of his dishevelled hair. His body stirred at the welcome touch of masculine fingers.
‘Stop it!’
‘I bet you imagined this a hundred times when I was younger, back when I was your type. You wouldn’t have told me to stop then,’ the man whispered in his ear. ‘That’s how you like them, isn’t it, Mr Stone? Well I’m sorry I’m not that boy any more. I’m a man now.’
‘What’s in the box?’ Jeffrey finally asked as he exhaled.
‘Go on and have a look. I know how you like choices, so I’m giving you a choice.’
Jeffrey’s hand hovered over the lid of the box. It was hand-carved and valuable, made from black ebony with an undecipherable image etched into the surface. His mouth dried as he opened it to reveal what was inside. It took every muscle he had to hold himself upright as he stared at the contents, feeling the blood drain from his face as the room began to spin.
‘Do you know what that is?’