“Of course not. I shall have a few phone calls to make after lunch. Using contact details we now have thanks to Rapson’s research.”
Deep in thought for a moment, Joe eyed Gosling with speculation and decided to give out some information to gain some in return. “Look-masks off. I’m going to explore with you the likely motive for Rapson’s interest in small boys. I was going to ask the headmaster outright, but I think I’ll get nearer the truth with a worldly young fellow like yourself. I can’t be certain-though I’ve met the man for all of five minutes, so perhaps I’m no judge-that Farman would understand what I’m getting at.”
Encouraged by a derisive snort from Gosling, Joe pressed on. “My first suspicion is that Rapson, solo or with others, has been taking an unhealthy interest-of a sexual nature, I mean-in boys in his care. What are your thoughts?”
Gosling shook his head and laughed. “You couldn’t be more wrong! Shall I reveal the contents of an official letter of warning the head sent to Rapson only last week? I checked the wording for him so I know what he said. I expect Rapson destroyed it. Not the sort of thing you’d want to keep in your notecase or tucked into your little black book. But you can check his reply if you like; it’s in Farman’s file. It says, and I paraphrase: ‘Mind your own business, you interfering old twerp.’ ”
“In response to?”
“A warning to Rapson to keep away from the staff quarters at the rear of the school. And, specifically, to keep his hands off Betty Bellefoy. She’s a maid at the school. Very pretty and young, which is unusual. Anyway, her mother had lodged a complaint. Demanded that the headmaster restrict Rapson to barracks or Ma Bellefoy would ‘take steps’ is how she put it. Farman professed himself puzzled as to what these steps might be, but the family has served the school faithfully for generations and is well known in the neighbourhood. He decided wisely that it would be easier in times like these to replace a single history master rather than a family of retainers. And Rapson is popular with no one, the Bellefoys are liked by all, so he sent a sharp letter of rebuke and defined his restricted area.”
“Which he broke out of on the night of his death. I think I must go and meet this formidable lady.”
“But it does illustrate the fact that Rapson’s urges were not of a kind that would incline him to the maltreatment of young lads. Apart from the occasional whacking.”
“I think I must turn around my thoughts to date concerning Rapson,” Joe said carefully. “Just chew this over, will you, Gosling? Instead of being a sexual raptor or purveyor of boys to someone at present unknown to us, he could possibly have been one who had noticed and begun to collate-perhaps even inquire into the disappearances. He was writing the history of the school, I understand?”
“God, that’s right! He used to bore us stupid with his little anecdotes from the files. Ancient cricket scores … casts of school drama performances.… No one else found it remotely interesting.”
“How on earth did he come to embark on such a task? A personal enthusiasm for the dusty annals of a preparatory school?”
“Not your bag, I’d guess, sir, and decidedly not mine, but he did it with-er-relish. In fact, I think he exceeded his brief, if the truth be told. Got carried away. He was initially asked by the head, in response to a parental suggestion-a suggestion backed up by a generous donation to funds-to compile a list of school heroes.”
“A list of heroes?”
“It’s something schools do these days, sir. In the aftermath. Memories to be kept bright and all that. Example to the new intake. He was tracking down old boys of the school who’ve won medals for gallantry: the Victoria Cross, Military Cross and all the rest of them. An astonishingly large number of these turned up. Hardly a day passed when he didn’t come smugly into the common room announcing: ‘Hogweed Minor. Mentioned in dispatches at Omdurman,’ or some such. He had all the military service records and was matching them up with the school lists. They’re over there in that cupboard.”
“Right. We can follow in Rapson’s footsteps, then.” Joe waved an arm at the filing room. “I’ve had a preliminary snoop around. I’d say it will take several people weeks to get through it.”
“There may be shortcuts we can take, sir. Using the book for a start. If you’ll just give me a minute to concentrate. I’m trying to match up Peterkin with his disappearance date. And I think I’ve got it. Here! Look! At least we can see from this that he hasn’t obscured the boys’ initials. We’ve got a J.D.P., plain as day, and a date in … hang on a minute … MCMXXI-that’s 1921. Then we’ve got pr. Id. Oct. How’s your Latin, sir? When were the Ides in October? Thirteenth?”
“In October? No. Try the fifteenth.”
“Pridie. That’s the day before the Ides which gives us the 14th of October. Spot on! Got him! So we can probably assume the initials are a good guide.”
“Yes. I don’t think this is a code at all-thankfully! They’re just notes to himself. But notes he wanted to keep quiet. No one coming on these unwittingly is going to be seized with an overpowering need to wrestle with them. In his ferreting about, Rapson could have stumbled on some loose threads. And collated them carefully and discreetly here in these pages.”
“He had that kind of brain, sir. Never let anything get by. Questioned everything. Tedious.”
“Did he give any indication to the other staff that he’d come across something stinky in the school cupboard?”
Gosling frowned and considered. “No. He didn’t confide. I was on the lookout for something not quite right with the establishment, following my interest in Peterkin. In fact, I rather directed Rapson towards the Peterkin question. Claimed a family interest. Lord! Perhaps I triggered the whole thing?”
“Isn’t that why you were sent here, Gosling? Just doing your job.”
“The head had begun to trust me, I think. Or at least to depend on me in a nauseating way.” Gosling pulled a face. “Farman may have an imposing physical presence, but underneath the senatorial robes there beats the heart of a pleb and gurgles the stomach of a glutton. The urge to give him a good kicking is overwhelming.”
“I’m wondering if we might be contemplating something that could be termed a conspiracy?”
“More than one person involved? Sounds likely. If the headmaster weren’t such a jelly, he’d be a likely candidate for the frame. Not Rapson-he was a loner. But, sir, the time scale’s all wrong for a conspiracy, isn’t it?”
“Time? How?”
“The disappearances. We’ve got this first photo from Edwardian days. Rapson has a date here of MCMIII. Eleven years before war broke out. And the most recent is a date last year. There have been three headmasters in that period. Farman was appointed six years ago. Before that there was a Dr. Sutton. Before him, an ancient old bean who retired at the age of eighty. Now what was his name? Oh, where’s Rapson when you need him? Streetly-Standish! That’s it!”
“Difficult to assign the notion of criminal conspiracy to three generations of headmaster, going back three decades.” Joe’s voice was full of doubt. “ ‘Welcome to St. Magnus, old boy. Here’s the keys to the cocktail cabinet and, while you’re at it, you’d better have an open-ended list of boys who won’t be coming back. You may wish to add to it.’ I can’t see it. I think we need to get old Godwit in here again.”
Gosling was already on his feet. “He’s snoozing in the arm chair in the staff room, sir. I’ll fetch him.”
Godwit seemed alert enough as he entered and took the seat Gosling held for him. He even seemed pleased to be called on again. “The last three headmasters? I knew them all,” he chirruped. “A breed in decline, sadly. Streetly-Standish? He was fading somewhat by the time I arrived, but I served for three years under him. Excellent scholar. Though he was not a humanist-the natural sciences were his forte. Strict. Fine leader. Dr. Sutton, his successor? No, I’m perfectly sure he was not known and not related to the previous head. This is not an Oxford college. The heads are chosen by a committee and the most suitable one selected. The position is not passed down. Dr. Sutton also was an excellent headmaster. Differing from the others in that he was, in fact, a family man. Charming wife and three daughters all of whom lived on the premises. Mrs. Sutton doubled as Matron. And the present holder of the post?” Godwit fell silent and marshaled his thoughts. When he was quite ready, out they trooped: “These are straitened times. Many talented men, scholars as well as others, were wasted in the war, of course. The school was lucky to have acquired the services of Mr. Farman. He has been kind to me.”