“The killer might have known in advance what their plans were, though.”
“I think not. Their plans could not have been made until they knew that Mr. Henry was going to stage his film show, and that seems to have been proposed very much on the spur of the moment.”
“Yes, I suppose it was. I don’t know whether to ask this, but are you getting anywhere with your investigation?”
“I am relying upon help from the staff.”
“But if any of us knew anything we’d have come across with it, wouldn’t we? I mean, surely everybody wants the wretched business cleared up as soon as maybe?”
“That is not what you indicated a few moments ago. However, I have studied Mr. Medlar’s notes on the reputations and personalities of the students, and they have given me no help. Since Mr. Medlar shows no sign of wanting me to leave I have begun a different line of enquiry.”
“Oh, I guessed from the very beginning that you weren’t here just to vet the students. You were hobnobbing with that police inspector and I happen to know that James is your godson and that his father is an Assistant Commissioner of Police. Anyway, in spite of what I said, I think Gassie is wise to have you here, provided he didn’t do the job himself.”
“Why should he have done it?”
“Because Jonah was a pot of poison to him. Did his best to ruin the College, you know.”
“Mr. Medlar could have dismissed him from his post.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Some of us think that Jonah was in a position to blackmail poor Gassie.”
“Had you any grounds for thinking that?”
“Well, some of us thought it was obvious.”
“I think I know what you mean. Mr. Jones retained his highly paid, comfortable post although he neglected his duties, interfered with those of other people, drank to excess, caused bodily injury to students, seduced one of the maids…”
“And tried it on with some of the women students, the loathsome animal! But I’m afraid I interrupted you.”
“Not at all. I was only going to add that, in spite of all his sins, Mr. Jones was not only given a permanent post here and a large salary—larger even than Mr. Henry’s or your own…”
“Oh, I’m not complaining. Gassie is a most generous employer. I didn’t know Jonah got more than we do, though. I do know he was given a sitting-room as well as a bedroom. It’s a suite which I used to envy him and which, when you’ve moved on and things have blown over, I shall apply for, unless Henry particularly wants it. I would waive my claim in his favour. I’m very fond of old Henry. But I’m babbling on, and you still haven’t reached the climax of your disclosures. What were you going to say?”
“I think some of you on the staff thought that Mr. Jones was in a position to blackmail Mr. Medlar not only because of the reasons we have mentioned, but also because he had already made an attempt to blackmail some of you as well.”
“Well!” exclaimed Miss Yale, not attempting to disguise her astonishment and alarm. “Are our past lives open books, then?”
chapter
12
Richard takes over the Baton
« ^ »
Dame Beatrice leered benevolently.
“You have nothing to fear from me, unless you killed Mr. Jones,” she said.
“If that little devil Lesley has ratted on me, you’d better hear the whole truth,” said Miss Yale.
“No, I beg of you, not at this moment. And Miss Lesley has not so much as mentioned your name to me. Besides, would it not be a case of the pot and the kettle? I am guessing, of course, and at the moment it does not matter whether I am right or wrong. I am glad to have had a talk with you, although all I wanted to know was whether the students ever have unsupervised access to the javelin cupboard.”
“Well, they most certainly have not.”
“Thank you for the extra reassurance. Well,” Dame Beatrice glanced at her wrist-watch, “it is time I went into the village.”
She left Miss Yale and went back to her quarters, but she did not get to the village as soon as she had planned to do. She had changed her shoes and sent a message to her chauffeur and was crossing Gascoigne’s garden towards a wicket-gate which gave a short cut to the lock-up where she kept her car, when she was waylaid by Richard, who appeared to be making for the mansion.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “I say, I think I ought to see Gassie. You wouldn’t come with me, would you?”
“Are you to be carpeted?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that.”
“So you are not in need of protection?”
The enormous student grinned. He said, “You’re in on the ground floor about this Jonah business. Well, young Kirk has been shouting his rat’s mouth off about having inside information about it, and now he’s disappeared. Of course, he may only have run home, but, now we all know Jones was murdered, it seems a bit fishy about Kirk.”
“Indeed it does,” said Dame Beatrice. “I will wait here while you run to the lock-ups and ask my chauffeur to stand by, as I shall not need him quite as soon as I said.”
Richard went on this errand, and returned shortly.
“Kirk has disappeared?” said Gascoigne, when they had gained his office. “Dear me! I think, Dick, you had better go on to the field and find Henry. I should like him to hear what you have to say. Give Dame Beatrice a chair and then be as quick as you can. I find your news perturbing.”
“Did you ever interview Mr. Kirk?” asked Dame Beatrice, when the young man had gone.
“Interview him? Oh, interview him! Good gracious me! I remember now. I sent for him, did I not, and was told that he was at swimming. Something else cropped up and I’m afraid I forgot all about him.
“All I remember saying is that he could wait until I came back. And I didn’t go back. Well, well! How very remiss of me! I never gave the boy another thought. I suppose he came when he was dressed, found that I was not available and waited for me to summon him again, which, quite forgetfully, I did not do.”
Dame Beatrice said nothing and Gascoigne appeared to have no more to add, so they sat in silence to wait for Henry, except that Gascoigne drummed with his fingers on his writing-table and Dame Beatrice took a small notebook out of her handbag and turned over the pages.
Henry did not keep them waiting very long. He came back with Richard, both of them looking as though they had run all the way, as, indeed, they had. Henry took the chair Gascoigne offered him, but said nothing.
“Now, Dick,” said Gascoigne.
Richard stood in front of the writing-table and said, “Kirk hasn’t been to bed and nobody knows where he is.”
“He hasn’t been in Hall, either,” said Henry. “I took it that he’d had a box of tuck from home and was making do with that while the rest of you were having your meals.”
Richard had turned towards him at the sound of his voice.
“Yes, Kirkie doesn’t believe in issuing many invitations when he gets a parcel,” he said. “Did you know the parcels don’t always come from his home?”
“What do you mean?” asked Gascoigne. “There is no reason why they should. Kirk may have other friends.”
“He did,” said Richard, “have other friends. As to reasons, well, it depends what’s in the parcels, doesn’t it? One more thing, just to keep you interested: one of Kirk’s closest friends, in a manner of speaking, was Jonah, and it was Jonah who brought him the parcels I was mentioning just now.”
He faced about and was gone before anything more could be said to him.
“Well, really!” said Gascoigne. “Do you think you should go after him, Henry?”
“As you wish,” Henry replied. “My own idea is that he’s said all he’s going to say. It’s up to us now. I think we should institute a search for Kirk. I feel very uneasy about him. Richard’s a lout, but he’s decent.”