The final paragraph of the story was what pleased Main most. It included an eye witness report of the car fire. Main had not known about this. The paper must have sent out a reporter to ask around the houses near the scene of the fire. He had come up trumps. Mrs Katherine Donaldson had been leaving her house to go shopping when she had seen a car in the street outside her gate explode. “It was terrible,” she had said. “There was a loud bang that shook her windows and flames shot out from the car. There was glass everywhere. No one got out.”
Main felt a glow of satisfaction. He was now convinced the holocaust had been no accident. The men had been murdered. He called Ryan Lafferty and asked him if he’d seen the story.
“No. What do they say?” asked Lafferty.
Main told him and Lafferty whistled softly. “That should shake the police up,” he said. “You did well.”
“I was lucky.”
“So now we wait and see what happens,” said Lafferty.
“The nice thing is,” said Main, “I think the papers are obliged to follow this up. That will keep the pressure on the police.”
“Excellent,” replied Lafferty. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. A lot better.”
“Good.”
“I’m thinking of going back to work,” said Main.
“I’m delighted to hear it,” said Lafferty. “It’s about time.”
Main smiled at Lafferty’s directness and said, “You’re right. I want to thank you.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” said Lafferty.
“Yes there is,” countered Main. “I was on the verge of giving up hope and you stopped me. Things are beginning to happen and it’s down to you. I think we’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
“I hope so,” said Lafferty. “But what I said in the beginning still goes. I’m sure your son’s soul has been in no danger.”
“I just wish I could believe that, Ryan.”
“I know. Get some sleep,” said Lafferty kindly.
Twelve
Main decided against wearing a suit; he felt that it would be too formal and might suggest that he was being interviewed for his own job. He opted instead for a sports jacket and cord trousers, checked shirt and university tie. Casual but acceptably establishment. He parked the car outside the school entrance and walked up the gravel drive past the playing fields where the third year were at rugby practice. Hargreave, the principal teacher of physical education was cajoling them into cohesive action instead of individual bids for glory. “Pass it you clown!” yelled the track-suited man as a large fair haired boy was caught in possession. “That’s what team mates are for!”
“Yes sir,” mumbled the boy as he got to his feet and looked down at them.
“Rugby is a team game, boy! Life is a team game!”
“Well, that’s taken care of that,” thought Main as he turned away and continued up the drive. The bottom line to centuries of philosophy had just been supplied by Hargreave. Why didn’t they ask him in the first place? he wondered facetiously.
After the five minute obligatory wait — important people never saw you immediately, Main thought — the headmaster welcomed Main with a handshake and the offer of sherry. Main declined politely, fearing it might be a test of his sobriety, a paranoid thought born of guilt about his less than sober habits of the past few weeks.
“How are you feeling Main?”
“Much better, Headmaster, thank you.”
“A bad business all round,” remarked the headmaster sympathetically. “So you feel well enough to come back to us now?”
“Yes sir, I’d like to, if that’s all right with you?”
“Well, naturally, we’d all be delighted to see you back,” began the headmaster. “But are you sure you’re well enough? You’ve been through an awful lot lately, more than any man should have to contend with and we all feel for you. Mr Close was saying as much yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” asked Main, suddenly suspicious of an uneasiness that had crept into the headmaster’s manner.
“There was a meeting yesterday of the board of governors and, with the newspaper story and all — it couldn’t have come at a worse time really — you were very much on everyone’s mind.”
“I see,” said Main cautiously.
“All this witchcraft business and now the suggestion of murder being bandied about and everything coming on top of the loss of your poor wife, well... we all felt that it might be for the best if you were to take your time about coming back. Maybe go on extended leave until this whole unfortunate thing is cleared up.”
“You mean it’s all a bit embarrassing for the board of governors?” said Main flatly.
“That’s a bit unkind Main.” The headmaster looked hurt.
“But accurate,” countered Main.
The headmaster leaned forward and spread his hands on the desk. “The governors have to consider the parents, John and they are the most fickle and delicate of creatures at the best of times. With the recession biting deeply, recruitment figures for the school are on a knife-edge. Next year will be touch and go. We have to avoid...” The headmaster searched the air for a word “... association of the school with any kind of... unpleasantness.”
“I see,” said Main tersely.
“This business about exploding cars and burning bodies smacks of... criminality.”
“A side of life you would rather the pupils at this school knew nothing about,” said Main.
“I really expected better from you, Main,” said the headmaster, looking hurt again. “I thought you would see sense.”
“I do, Headmaster. I see it very clearly. So I’m suspended? Or would you prefer that I resign?”
“There’s no question of that, Main. Let’s just give it some time and, with any luck, this whole business will be behind us by the end of term.”
“And if it isn’t?”
The headmaster spread his hands on the desk again and looked apologetic. “Then you must do what you feel is right, John. What’s right for the school as well as anyone else. But let’s not even consider that.”
“Very good sir,” said Main taking this as his cue to leave. He got up and shook hands with the headmaster but avoided his eyes. As he opened the door the headmaster called out, “And don’t forget, John, we’re all behind you!”
Main closed the door behind him and paused for a moment, “Yes sir,” he murmured. “Life is a team game.”
It was after nine in the evening when he returned home. His feet were sore and wet and he was hungry. After leaving the school he had driven out into the country and parked the car in a lay-by before setting off on a long walk. He had walked for over three hours in shoes that weren’t up to the conditions, at first oblivious to the fact but then becoming all too aware of wet feet and hurting ankles as the rough ground took its toll. It had also rained while he was out in the open so his clothes were wet through. For the first hour or so, he had not really noticed the discomfort; he was so confused and angry inside his head. He really feared that he was beginning to crack up.