“He says he rents Potts’s apparatus occasionally, and I cannot see why he should lie about the javelin, although, to you (and to me, I expect, if I had asked him) Potts did. Benson had not seen the javelin, of course, but to a certain extent he was able to repeat Potts’s description of it. I do not suppose it is a familiar implement so far as the villagers are concerned, so he would hardly make up this tale.”
“Don’t suppose the majority of the villagers have ever seen such a thing,” agreed the inspector. “Well, I think you’ve got hold of an important and useful bit of information, ma’am, with which I shall confront Potts as soon as I’m allowed to see him, and that may be a whole lot sooner than he would like. I’m much obliged to you, ma’am. Do you want to see those boys now, or will you wait a bit?”
“I’ll wait. When they have had time to think and talk over your own visit, they may be the more willing to tolerate mine. For the rest of the morning and, doubtless, for much of the afternoon, I shall be busy with other matters. Do you know whether Mr. Kirk’s stepfather has arrived yet?”
“Expected at about half-past three this afternoon, ma’am. Mr. Medlar received a wire while you were out, and would like us both to be at the interview. I think Mr. Medlar feels that he would like our support, although he did not exactly say so.”
“He has my sympathy. I shall be on call, then, from three-thirty onwards. When was Mr. Kirk killed?”
“According to our surgeon, somewhere between ten on the night before yesterday and two o’clock yesterday morning. Would you like a word with him, ma’am?”
“It is not necessary. The times he gives are reasonable enough. The deed, of necessity, would have to be done after dark. I wonder what the excuse was?”
“The excuse, ma’am?”
“For getting Kirk to come out of his hut at night. I have an idea about it, of course. During a conversation I had with one of the students, it seems that Mr. Jones was in the habit of keeping Kirk supplied with drink and cigarettes. I think that maybe the murderer was blackmailed into taking his place.”
“I wish I had known that when I tackled those lads this morning! Do you know, I believe I’ll go right back there and roast them! I take it Mr. Medlar wasn’t a party to such goings-on?”
“Oh, I am sure he was not. I did not tell you until after you had seen the young men, because now they will not be expecting another call from you, and therefore your second visit will take them unawares. By refusing information to you so far, they have turned themselves into hostile witnesses and may be treated as such.”
“That’s clever of you, ma’am, but shan’t I queer your own pitch if I tackle them before you’ve spoken to them? I’ve been told to give you every facility.”
“I wait upon your decision, Inspector.”
“Well, then, ma’am, I think you should take first knock. Here is the list of names. While you’re sorting this lot, I’ll find out which hospital Potts is in. I know where he lives, and his wife will tell me whether it’s the local hospital, which I think it’s bound to be, and what’s the matter with him. Good luck, ma’am. You’ll need it if you’re to get anything useful out of those boys.” He left her and Dame Beatrice studied the list of names. She was interested to note that those of Paul-Pierre and the taciturn Neil, as well as that of Richard were on it. The rest of the names were not those of anybody whom Hamish had mentioned in his letters home.
She went first to Henry’s lecture-room in which hung the full time-table of lectures and coachings, for Henry, she knew, was largely responsible for organizing this part of College life while Gascoigne dealt with business matters, correspondence, complaints and parents. Henry was lecturing to a class which consisted of five inattentive girls and seven lethargic young men, and he seemed grateful instead of irritated when Dame Beatrice interrupted his discourse.
“Mean we can go, Henry boy?” asked a front-row youth, speaking with what Dame Beatrice recognized as an unusual degree of politeness for a student at Joynings.
“Suit yourself, Frank,” replied Henry; whereupon the group collected its books and charged for the door. “They only come because they think it’s good for me to have an occasional class,” said Henry tolerantly. “And now what can I do for you, Dame Beatrice?”
“I should wish to congratulate you, first, on your popularity here. Secondly, all I came for was to find out where these students are likely to be at this hour.” She produced the list which the inspector had given her. “You have a complete time-table, I believe.”
“Ah, but where our students are supposed to be, and where they actually are,” said Henry, “is one of those Alice in Wonderland things, you know. Still, for what it’s worth—” he studied her list—“Richard will be with James, to whom he remains faithful, especially since eleven more girls have decided to take French and German; Paul-Pierre will be with Martin for mathematics— he is the instructor, I may add, and Martin the pupil—and I expect you will find Neil with Miss Yale. Ideally he should be at physics with Jerry, but he is teaching Miss Yale to knit.”
“Dear me!” said Dame Beatrice. “So the devil a monk would be! Two devils and two monks, in fact. I shall never again be surprised at what goes on in this College. Does nobody instruct Hamish?”
“The girls would like to do that, I expect,” said Henry, with his gentle smile. “Of the others on your list…”
“Thank you so much, but I think I can make shift with Paul-Pierre and Neil. Richard has already talked to me.”
“He’s a good chap, is old Richard. We shall miss him when he goes.”
Dame Beatrice went first to Miss Yale’s lecture-room and found Neil upbraiding that formidable lady as he ‘took back’ the last few rows of what appeared to be a Fair Isle sweater in the making.
“I forbade ye to go on wi’ it when I wisna by tae see ye were daeing it richt,” he was saying sternly.
“Sorry,” said Miss Yale. “Thought I’d got the hang of the pattern by now.”
The door was wide open, but Dame Beatrice tapped on it politely before she advanced into the room.
“So very sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but as soon as Neil is at liberty I would be glad if he would spare me a moment.”
“I’ll come the noo,” said Neil, laying aside the knitting, “gin this disobedient woman will agree tae leave well alane until I will be back. I’m thinking ye’re wanting to speir at me about wee Kirkie,” he added, as he and Dame Beatrice reached the open air and began to cross the Warden’s garden. “Is it true the puir mannie is deid?”
“Quite true, I’m afraid. As he slept in your hall of residence, I wondered whether you could suggest any reason why somebody murdered him.”
“Och, then, there’s mony that micht hae had reason for it. Aye, and the tutors, too, for the matter o’ that.”
“Did any of you—I am not asking for names—but did any of you ever leave your hall of residence at night?”
“Why would we be daeing that?”
“I can think of no reason, but I thought perhaps you could tell me how or why Kirk was not in bed the night before last.”
“Kirk had a bet he wad sleep wi’ ane o’ the lasses, but we a’ kenned that wis naething but wishfu’ thinking. Save for mysel’, they’re a’ too scared o’ yon auld body ye took me from. Losh! But she’s a deevil when she’s roused up!”
“But Mr. Kirk apparently did not think so, if he took on such a wager.”