‘How did he get on with Rich?’
‘I think he resented him. I came after Rich took over, so I don’t really know how things were before. But certainly Wally’s nose seemed out of joint. Mind you, Rich was very generous to him. Cut him in on the BP profits even though he made no contribution to them.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Drink up. We’re due back at base in half an hour.’
In the tube Gavs asked casually, ‘Have you a heavy load of extra activities?’
‘Pretty bad. Three nights this week. And Sunday. It’s a bit much, but Rich seemed desperate.’
‘He’s having another picnic so soon? That’s unusual.’
‘I suppose it’s because of the nice weather.’
Gavs looked at him curiously. ‘I suppose it is.’
They got out at Knightsbridge and began the walk to the school.
‘Expecting Galina on Sunday, are you?’
‘God, I suppose so. She turns up everywhere.’
‘Well, if you want my advice, I’d be prepared.’
Amiss weighed up the importance of keeping up a cool façade against his urgent desire to know what the hell Gavs meant. The façade won.
‘Che sera, sera,’ he said carelessly.
***
‘You knew him well?’
‘I’d say as well as anyone. I lived beside them from the day they got married till the day they separated. More coffee?’
‘Thanks.’
Mrs Clarke topped up the three cups. She leaned back in her armchair, crossed her elegant legs and lit a cigarette.
‘Tell me about Wally.’
‘The trouble with Wally was that when he saw anyone doing anything, he knew he could do it better. That included running the country, the London Zoo, the local newspaper shop and obviously, most of all, the place where he worked. People didn’t have the heart to ask the simple question: why, if he was so bloody smart, was he working in a tenth-rate, two-man language school as the second in command?
‘Celia put up with his self-importance for all those years when she was bringing up the children and then she went back to work. Her new perspective helped her to see that she was suffering the double disadvantage of being married to a failure who behaved as if he were a success.’
‘You liked her?’
‘Very much. Still do. Mind you, I think she bears a lot of the responsibility for the way Wally carried on. Through a combination of sheer good nature and naïvety, she took him at his face value for years. It was ‘Wally this’ and ‘Wally that’. If Wally pronounced on monetarism, the space race, the right colours for a bedroom or whether women should breastfeed in public, Mrs Wally quoted him. No wonder he came to believe he was right about everything. When he talked about his boss’s inadequacies as a businessman, she took him as seriously as if he were a senior Cabinet minister shaking his head over the Prime Minister’s latest errors of judgement. Some women make fools of their husbands, and she was one of them. But then she had the right material to work on.’
‘It must have been a shock to him when she changed her tune.’
‘It was, but he managed to rationalise it easily enough. Decided she had fallen in with feminists who had addled her brain. Wally had a very thick hide.’
‘Did he talk about Rich Rogers, the fellow who became Ned Nurse’s partner?’
‘Sorry, I can’t help you there. He left next door before that happened and I never heard from him afterwards. I think he’d put me down as one of the wicked feminists.’
‘From what you’ve said, Mrs Clarke, would it have been in character for Armstrong to have decided to pre-empt the electrician?’
‘Completely.’
‘And also in character to have succeeded in electrocuting himself?’
She leaned her cheek on her hand and gazed at the floor for a full minute. ‘I’m sorry, Superintendent. I can’t give you a clear opinion. You see it’s my vague impression that he was less bad at dealing with electrical matters than he was at a lot of other things. I’ve known their house flooded out because Wally did something stupid with the plumbing. But I can’t remember any electrical disasters. Have you checked with Celia?’
‘She was asked that after he died. Said he might have mucked it up, but it would be slightly surprising.’
‘That’s about the size of it. Good luck. If he was murdered, I hope you get whoever did it. For all I’ve said about Wally, he was essentially on the side of decency. He wouldn’t walk away if he saw someone in trouble.’
***
‘What was he like as a colleague?’
‘Superior. Wally was the original tuppence ha’penny looking down on tuppence. You were a part-timer: he was the deputy principal, a man worn down with the weight of his responsibilities. I swear to God if the Vice Chancellor of Oxford carried on the way Wally did, people would say he had got too big for his boots.’
***
‘He had no natural talent for the job, but he was very conscientious with the students, I’ll give him that. Worked hard preparing lessons and would help with questions after hours. He was a kind man. Sadly, half the things that maddened one most were caused by kindness. It was his efforts to help me and turn me into a teacher like him that caused me to leave. He couldn’t help me become a better version of me; he had to try to make me in his image.’
***
‘Was he right in his criticisms of the school the way Ned ran it?’
‘Yes and no. Under Ned the teachers got paid and the students got taught. Of course as Rich saw later, the building and its location had lots of unrealised potential. But Wally never had any ideas for increasing profits that went further than increasing fees by four per cent or slightly reducing the length of classes and hence the fees of teachers.’
‘So how did he respond to Rich?’
‘Couldn’t believe what was happening. This little upstart, “the pipsqueak”, Wally always called him. He was inordinately proud of being tall; indeed he appeared to be proud of being fat. The pipsqueak just appeared one day and turned everything upside down with Ned’s full endorsement. And worse than that, it worked. And worse again, Rich wouldn’t let Wally come in on the BPs. He tried to be tactful, but he was firm. Wally kept pushing at the door and it was always shut. Rich even rationed his attendance at parties to the big end-of-course ones. “Sorry,” Rich said, “it’s a young man’s game, Wally.” And when Wally pointed out he was the same age as Rich, Rich laughed that funny laugh of his and said, “I’m the exception that proves the rule.”’
‘Did he come to terms with this?’
‘Only by the Cassandra method. You know. “There’s something not quite right about it. It’ll come to no good.” That sort of helpful comment.’
‘Did he hate Rich?’
‘Probably in a grumblingly resentful sort of way rather than with a white heat. He’d certainly have liked to see him come a cropper. Let’s say that if Rich had been murdered, I’d have put Wally high up, but not necessarily at the top, of any list of suspects.’
‘Mr Rogers, why didn’t you sack Wally Armstrong?’
‘Because of Ned. Anyone else would have got rid of him years ago, but not Ned. “Poor fellow, poor fellow. Where else could he go?” That’s what he would have said if I’d suggested it. I never upset Ned if I could avoid it, so Wally stayed. Anyway, he did a perfectly good job in the prefabs.’
‘But he was a thorn in your flesh.’
‘Only a small one. Into each life a little rain must fall, and all that, Superintendent. I’m a realist, been around, you know.’
‘He was an embarrassment with the students—those you call the BPs, I mean—wasn’t he?’
‘Quite frankly, Superintendent, so was Ned, but I didn’t murder him either. These were minor headaches that I had well under control.’
‘It’s been suggested to me that Mr Armstrong would have liked to see you fail.’
‘He’d have been a fool to welcome that. He’d have lost several thousand a year out of the p
rofit-sharing scheme.’
‘A price he might have been prepared to pay.’
Rich shrugged. ‘Perhaps. It’s all the same now, isn’t it?’
‘It’s not really, Mr Rogers. It was an open verdict on Mr Armstrong, you remember. In view of what happened to Mr Nurse, the balance of probability tips towards murder.’
‘You’re quite right, Superintendent. Forgive me, I’m not myself. What else do you want to know?’
‘Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to give me a complete rundown on the finances of the school.’
‘Certainly, Superintendent. Where shall we begin?’
Chapter 23
‘Got absolutely nowhere with Rich Rogers about Armstrong. Wouldn’t you agree, Ellis?’
‘’Fraid so, sir.’
‘Ellis, if you persist in calling me “sir” tonight, I’ll have you transferred after Romford to Stolen Vehicles. Come on, practise. “’Fraid so, Jim.” Let’s hear it.’
Pooley gulped. ‘’Fraid so, Jim.’
‘Who am I?’
‘A friend of Robert’s.’
‘Good. Now where were we?’
‘Drawing a blank,’ said Amiss. ‘Have another drink and tell me all about it.’
Amiss watched the pair of them attentively throughout the meal. He had felt apprehensive before their arrival, fearful that he had been wrong in putting pressure on them to meet off-duty. Milton had been in excellent form when he arrived, but Pooley began the evening obviously very tense. Amiss admired the way in which Milton had met the problem head-on: it was the right way to deal with Pooley. Obediently, he had applied himself to relaxing, and to Amiss’s delight, after two or three glasses of wine, Pooley actually criticised Milton without tying himself in knots of embarrassment.
‘There’s something important you forgot to do last week, Jim.’
‘What?’
‘I only realised it on my way here tonight. In fact we’ve both been downright stupid.’
‘Well, get on with it, for God’s sake.’
‘It’s less than a month since someone assaulted Ned Nurse, and we completely forgot about it.’
‘So we did.’ Milton chewed meditatively on his steak. ‘How in God’s name did we manage to do that?’ He took a sip of wine, set down his glass, shrugged and said, ‘Well, sod it. I always knew I wasn’t infallible; I’m relieved to learn that you aren’t either, Ellis.’
‘So what’ll we do?’
‘Pick it up on Monday, obviously. We’ll have to interview all those buggers again looking for alibis for whenever it was.’
‘We?’
‘You and me. I just had a call to say the course is suspended for another week. Those were some Scotch eggs.’
Pooley’s face lit up. ‘We should crack it in that time.’
‘Let’s hope we do, Ellis. Let’s hope we do.’
‘I’ve got news as well, chaps.’ Amiss began to open another bottle of burgundy. The cork broke and he swore.
‘Give it to me, please,’ said Pooley. ‘I can’t bear watching you. You open bottles like a teetotaller, not an ex-barman.’
‘I wasn’t working in your sort of pub, Ellis. It wasn’t a “Dry white wine and my friend will have a Campari” kind of establishment.’
Pooley inserted the corkscrew in the remains, gave a fluid twist of the wrist, and extracted the half-cork with a triumphant flourish. ‘Smartass,’ said Amiss, holding out his glass for a refill. ‘I suppose you learned how to do that on the playing fields of Eton.’
Pooley looked at him in alarm.
‘Don’t panic, Ellis. Jim knew anyway: he told me the other evening.’
‘How long have you known?’
‘Don’t know. Ages ago. Saw your personnel file. I’ve kept it quiet. I may not be an inverted snob, but there’s lots of them about.’
‘They still go on about toffs in the canteen. Toffs and snobs. Toffs are people from my kind of background. Snobs are those who had a good education. It’s been bad enough getting accepted despite having been at Cambridge. The thought of the puerile jokes if they knew about Eton…’ He shook his head.
‘Sometimes I wish I’d been to university,’ remarked Milton suddenly.
‘Why didn’t you?’ asked Amiss.
‘My school head didn’t know much about universities: only two or three boys a year went. He advised me to apply to new universities. I loathed all of them on sight when I went for the interview, so though I was offered places at two of them, I turned them down. I just couldn’t face spending three years living in the middle of a wasteland.’
‘You old aesthete,’ said Amiss. ‘I never realised what a traditionalist you were.’
‘Anyway, all that’s by the way. What’s your news?’
‘I’m leaving on Monday morning with Ahmed to spend a week on a health farm.’
‘You’re what?’ Milton and Pooley asked in unison.
Amiss was enjoying their reaction. ‘You heard. Health farm. Rich rang me just before you came. Apparently the school doctor has put the fear of Allah into Ahmed. Told him he’s got to get away from London and be looked after properly for a week.’
‘What’s wrong with him anyway?’
‘He’s having heart palpitations and pains in his stomach. He was convinced he needed surgery. Doctor Moskal reckons it’s over-indulgence in the fleshpots, not that he’d have put it that way to Ahmed. I imagine he’s told him his condition has been caught in time and that complete rest in luxurious and expensive surroundings will cure him.’
‘So where do you come in?’
‘He can’t possibly go alone. His English isn’t bad but he’d never be able to handle an institution full of strangers. He needs a minder. And who is there to go with him except me? It’s got to be a man. Kenneth won’t let Gavs go alone and Rich can’t leave the school. So it’s me. I couldn’t say no.’
‘So we’ll be without our snoop next week, Ellis. It’s all down to you and me.’
‘Ahmed’s still on the list, dammit. I’ll go on snooping, but in a more specialist way than usual.’
‘He’s paying for you, of course?’
‘Certainly. From what Rich says, it’s going to cost something in the region of a couple of thousand quid, apart from what he’s paying for the course anyway. The place the doctor uses is right at the top of the market. You must have heard of it—Marriners.’
Pooley looked impressed. ‘I certainly have. It’s for the fattest of fat cats, literally and metaphorically.’
‘I’m actually looking forward to it a lot. I’ve always been curious to see inside one of those places, but I was never likely to be able to go.’
‘Speaking of money, Jim, we haven’t told Robert about Rich’s finances.’
‘Quite right. You tell him.’
‘The school’s turnover last year was close on two million pounds.’
‘You’re kidding.’ Amiss did a rapid calculation. ‘No, you’re not.’
‘Clear profit last year was three hundred thousand. Rich and Ned had about three-quarters of that between them.’
‘You mean over a hundred thousand each?’
‘That’s right. And the year before they’d made nearly as much.’
‘Good God.’ Amiss remembered Ned Nurse’s squalid house with incredulity.
‘They each owned fifty per cent of the business.’
‘When was the partnership set up?’
‘Surprisingly not until two years ago,’ said Milton. ‘Rogers says he wasn’t prepared to take a share of Ned’s property until he’d earned it.’
‘Ned got a very good deal, then, didn’t he?’
‘Certainly did,’ said Pooley. ‘In fact Rogers seems to have behaved very well. From everything that’s said about him, it would have been child’s play to persuade Ned to settle for a much smaller share.’
‘What did he do with his money?’
‘Gave a lot to some Greek archaeological trust, according to Rich. Otherwise left
it in the bank. His current account stood at a hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds. Can you believe it?’
‘Of Ned, yes.’
‘And he’s left everything to Rich.’
‘Who’s loaded already.’
‘Exactly. And he hasn’t gambled it away or anything. We have corroboration that he’s very comfortably off.’
‘When was the will made?’
‘When the partnership was set up.’
‘Sensible.’
‘Precisely.’
‘And what’s more,’ interjected Milton, ‘Rogers says he’s going to spend most of what he gets from Ned’s estate on setting up scholarships in his name.’
‘It’s all cul-de-sacs, this case,’ said Amiss moodily. ‘It would be quite nice to be sure anyone was murdered. Sometimes I think we’re just wasting our time.’
‘We’re not,’ said Pooley, ‘I know we’re not. I’m certain Nurse was murdered.’
‘But why?’
‘Don’t know. Maybe because he found out something he shouldn’t. There’s something funny about that place.’
‘We know that. But nothing worth murdering to cover up.’
‘That remains to be seen,’ said Milton. ‘Now stop upsetting Ellis and go and make us some coffee.’
***
‘Goodnight, my children.’ Amiss put his arms round the shoulders of both his departing guests.
‘Let us know how the picnic goes,’ said Milton.
‘Sure, but I expect it to be uneventful. I think Galina’s stymied.’ Amiss opened the door.
‘And enjoy Marriners. Take a good book or three.’
‘I will. That too should be uneventful. But I’ll keep you posted. You’ll do the same for me, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Oh, Ellis, one last thing.’
‘Yes, Robert?’
‘Remember not to call Jim “Jim” when you’re on duty.’
‘If he does, I’ll have the whole canteen singing the Eton Boating Song.’
The English School of Murder Page 14