‘Not long after Molly started her second job, new faces started appearing at the school,’ said Searle. ‘I had to tell a few to leave because they were loitering during afternoon pick-up time and the parents complained. Well, they did more than just complain.’

‘What did they do?’ Manolis asked.

‘They started arguments, picked fights.’

‘With you?’

‘With the detainees. Not the first time, mind you. These were the same people who snatched their kids away when they saw them playing with the detainees’ kids.’

‘So the detainees’ kids attend the local school?’ Manolis asked.

Searle said there was an agreement with the government for detention centre kids to attend state schools. It was cheaper than sending teachers up to the centre. Teaching English to adults, on the other hand, was different.

‘That’s actually how Molly heard about the job, through one of the parents,’ the headmaster said. ‘I know all the parents who come to collect their kids, and those new faces who started turning up weren’t there as parents. They were there for Molly. So I told her to tell them to stop coming, they were becoming a nuisance. She said she tried but they wouldn’t listen. And they were overwhelmingly male.’

Searle turned his head in the direction of the school, as if picturing what he’d just described.

‘Do you know what the new faces wanted?’ Manolis asked.

Searle shook his head. ‘Molly never told me. Course, it wasn’t the first time that local men came looking for her. But I figured this mob might’ve had questions about homework or something. She taught there twice a week, on Mondays and Thursdays.’

‘And you say she took the job just for the extra money?’

Searle paused, breathed heavily. ‘Molly, well, she didn’t show her pain to most. But I saw it. Losing a husband, losing her parents. It changes a person. She needed to get away from those memories, needed a fresh start. And to do that, she needed money.’

Manolis sat back in his garden chair, folded his hands behind his head, considered the ceiling. It was stained black in places, had panels missing and wires dangling. Kerr’s pupils darted between interviewer and interviewee. Searle anxiously pulled at his thick sideburns.

The headmaster certainly painted a grim picture of what seemed an otherwise cheerful individual. But Manolis was aware that Molly’s cheer may have been merely a mask. She’d certainly had her share of tragedy. And if she was truly promiscuous, that suggested she either loved sex or was, more likely, trying to fill an emotional hole in her life.

Manolis returned his attention to the room. ‘How did she like working at the detention centre? Did she ever talk about it?’