‘You must have been annoyed when it was taken from your locker.’
‘A bit, but it had served its purpose by then. I’d fired it a few times and it worked as predicted so I didn’t really need it any more. I wouldn’t have left it there if it had been important.’
‘Where did you make it?’
‘In the school workshop. You can push a bit of celluloid into the lock and open the door. No-one ever asks what you’re doing there. I’ve made all sorts of stuff from scraps and odds and ends. It does no harm as they’d probably go to waste anyway.’
‘Mightn’t you get into trouble, if caught?’
‘I shouldn’t think so. I don’t care if I do really. They can sack me if they want.’
‘What about your Certificate?’
‘I’m not spending my life chasing bits of paper. If I’m still here I’ll sit for it but I’m not bothered if I don’t. I plan to work for my dad for a while – he builds car engines – then start up on my own. I’ve a great idea for a fuel pump.’
‘Fair enough. Can you just tell me what you did for an arrow head? We want to be sure the one we recovered from the body definitely came with your crossbow.’
‘If they’re mine, they’ll be bullet-shaped. We’ve got a model-maker’s lathe here. I turned some heads out of old screws and gave them a stalk to fit into the hollow shaft. I wanted the bolts to be easy to pull out and use again. I’m sorry if it ended up killing someone; it wasn’t my intention.’
‘Well you could hardly expect that; though I’m sure you’ll see the lesson there. Did you like Mr Willoughby?’
‘Nobody liked Mr Willoughby, but I didn’t want him dead.’
◆◆◆
‘Hello, Mr Sherwood,’ said Felix. ‘Good of you to speak to me, sir.’
‘Always glad to help the police,’ said the Headmaster of Mountside School. ‘I understand it’s about Franklin Willoughby?’
‘Yes, sir. First of all, I regret to inform you that Mr Willoughby has been murdered by a person or persons unknown.’
Mr Sherwood was silent for a moment. ‘Has he, by George!’ he said. ‘I suppose I should mouth some suitable platitude but I don’t think I shall bother. The fact is I’m neither very sorry nor much surprised to hear it. The fellow was a thorn in our sides the whole time he was here. I doubt if he drowned because if anyone was born to hang, it was he.’
‘I’m not at liberty to tell you how he died, sir,’ said Felix. ‘the case is still under investigation. However, you may be able to help me. We are aware that there was some trouble involving the death of one of your pupils.’
‘There most certainly was! You know the facts of the matter presumably? I’d be happy discuss it with you but I hope you will understand that I’ll need to speak to the school’s solicitors first. I have to be guided by them.’
‘That’s all right, sir. It’s not that particular case we’re interested in. What we’re hoping to discover are any facts about Mr Willoughby that you are aware of that might illuminate his character or background. We have, as yet, no firm motive for his murder, though a few things suggest themselves, and we want to find one.’
Mr Sherwood could be heard to sigh in reminiscence. ‘Where do I start? He’d scarcely been here the necessary time when a young lady of the town claimed he’d fathered a child on her. There was quite a scandal about that. I’d have been fully justified in getting rid of him then but I hadn’t the sense to do it. Wouldn’t hesitate now, I can tell you! A couple of years later an older, and much valued, member of staff died under suspicious circumstances and was found to have paid regular sums into Willoughby’s account. He claimed they were legitimate gifts but any fool could see the truth.’
‘Police involved? I suppose they must have been.’
‘Oh yes. There was no doubt in their minds either but they lacked the necessary evidence. Finally there came the business of the boy – not resolved in his mother’s favour, poor woman – at which point, against legal advice, I dispensed with his services. I fully expected to be sued by him but never heard from him again. I’ve no knowledge to this day where he went.’
‘He was teaching at another school, sir. I don’t feel I can say more.’
‘Then they have my heartfelt sympathy.’
‘Was he liked, by the staff and so on?’
‘Liked! He was universally detested. I had two good teachers resign rather than work with him.’
‘Seems to have treated blackmail as a part-time job,’ said Rattigan, ‘a bit of pin-money to pay for his women and his fancy suits.’
‘If blackmail it was,’ agreed Felix. ‘Campling may have been the only fish he’d managed to hook at Thirkettle, assuming he did, and we know Campling can’t be our murderer. If that’s to be the motive, we need another victim.’
‘Maybe we should approach Campling after all, just to confirm it?’
‘I will if I have to. But as I said, I’d sooner not get involved in that if I can avoid it. He’s a silly little man but surely harmless. I can’t imagine he’s done anything very wicked and I don’t want to ruin the fellow’s life for him to no good purpose.’
‘No, all right,’ said Rattigan reluctantly. ‘By the way, not that it’s got anything to do with it, I’ve had a thought. We may not know to within hours exactly when Willoughby was murdered but we do know, more or less, when the beggar started the fire. Perhaps we’d do better to collect alibis for then.’
‘That’s a very good idea, Teddy,’ said Felix, ‘and I know exactly whom to ask.’ He stepped next door. ‘Mrs Andrews, where might I find Mr Gibbs?’
‘I knocked them all up and they all answered, so I know they were there all right,’ said the butler. I had to do Mr Crockford twice but he did turn out in the end. I also telephoned to Mr Wayland at the lodge, and to Mr Burstow, as it’s no distance from Church Road along the towpath.’
‘Did you go down there with them?’
‘No, I hung on here in case I was needed.’
‘Did you telephone any others that live out?’
‘No. They’re too far away. Not that there was anything anyone could do, in the event.’
‘Well that’s most potential arsonists eliminated,’ said Felix, which just leaves the few who live at home, none of whom are particularly suspect. Let’s have a chat to Wayland.’
Comfortably settled in the maths master’s sitting room they smiled their thanks for the tea and biscuits. ‘Don’t stint yourselves now,’ said Mrs Wayland. ‘I’ll leave the tin on the table.’
‘You oughtn’t to tell Rattigan that,’ warned Felix. ‘He’ll eat the lot. Mr Wayland, I never asked you what exactly an assistant headmaster does.’
‘Well, I suppose I’m essentially a sort of nursemaid, said Wayland. I endeavour to conceal the worst aspects of his drinking habit, pay off his mistresses when he tires of them, that sort of thing.’
‘You’ll get yourself sacked,’ chided Mrs Wayland from the kitchen.
‘I should think you get on well with Mr Burstow, don’t you?’ smiled Felix.
‘George helps to keep me sane,’ agreed Wayland, ‘although Crockford is coming along nicely in that regard. What did you want to know, or have you come to arrest me?’
‘Well firstly that you have an alibi for the time of the commencement of the fire. Did you go down there with the others?’
Wayland nodded. ‘Yes, rather belatedly I’m afraid. Fortunately Gibbs telephoned to alert me, so he knows where I was. Why don’t you just ask him whom he rang?’
‘Oh, we have, but it’s rather critical that we have confirmation. By the way, am I right in thinking that you were present when the Headmaster performed his William Tell act?’
‘Heh! Yes, I was.’
‘Of which you didn’t approve, I gather?’
‘It wasn’t so
much that; I was concerned to defend my protégé. Albert and I don’t see entirely eye to eye on him. Because of Quigley’s intelligence he expects an adult level of maturity from him, I think unfairly. He’s a gifted lad but he’s still a boy and with a boy’s preoccupations. The crossbow was typical of that. I blame Crockford.’
‘Because of the book he’s researching?’
Wayland nodded. ‘He keeps lending him material. It’s kind of him but I rather wish he’d been writing on trade guilds or some such thing. You don’t suspect him, do you? Quigley, I mean.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t comment on that,’ said Felix. ‘Can you also confirm that the Headmaster was here at the Lodge on the Sunday afternoon between about two-thirty and four?’
‘Yes, he was, along with Nicholls and Dunston. We had a meeting. Afterwards I saw him crossing the rugger field to the school, so I know he got there.’
‘Thank you. And finally, were you one of those who saw Willoughby look into the staffroom on Sunday, after church.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Can you remember what he was wearing?’
The maths master paused to recollect. ‘Yes, it was his games clothes, including that disreputable old jersey of his. I rather wonder, thinking about it, what he’d been doing in those on a Sunday lunchtime.’
‘Not a regular thing?’
‘Not regular, no. Perhaps in the run-up to Founder’s Day or some such but not on an ordinary Sunday.’
‘Sorry,’ said Rattigan as they returned across the playing fields to the school. ‘That didn’t get us very far, did it?’
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ said Felix. It told us to a fair degree of certainty that no-one was there to set the fire.’
Chapter Ten
‘Owen, you’re a clever chap,’ said Felix, gesturing to the boy to stay seated. ‘Might I pick your brain?’
‘What do you want to know?’ said Owen, glancing casually up at him.
Felix smiled; there was neither surprise nor disrespect in the boy’s tone; it was a perfectly reasonable response to an enquiry by a perceived equal. One hopes he’s never called up, he thought, or he might find himself in trouble for that. ‘At the time of the boatshed fire,’ he said, ‘there appears to have been no-one available – no adult at any rate – to strike the match. Neither have we found the remains of a clock or other identifiable timing device. Can you think of anything that could be guaranteed to start a delayed blaze that wouldn’t leave a trace of itself?’
‘How precise does the timing have to be?’
‘That’s a good question. The fire started at about eleven-thirty in the evening, but it wouldn’t have made much difference for the designed purpose if had been an hour or two later. Not much earlier preferably. Certainly after dark.’
Felix expected there to be further questions but Owen just pulled forward a sheet of paper and wrote some hieroglyphics on it. ‘You’ll need to ask Bungie if he has this in the lab. These are instructions on how to use it. Whoever set it up would have needed to experiment a little to get the timing right. It’s nasty stuff, mind. Needs care.’
‘Bungie is Mr Matteson?’
‘Sorry, yes.’
‘How much is needed?’
‘The size of a sugar knob would probably do it, but the more the better, and have it dotted about, ideally with some wood shavings or some such, to help it catch hold.’
‘Thanks, Owen, that’s very helpful.’
‘Mr Felix, why have you discounted the boys?’
‘Expediency mainly. There are rather a lot of you to fingerprint and question. Once we’ve eliminated the masters we’ll have to turn to the older boys. Do you have any reason to suppose it was one?’
‘No,’ said Owen. ‘Just interested.’
◆◆◆
They found Mr Matteson in the science lab, setting up some equipment. As at his previous interview he emanated gloom. ‘Wimshurst machine?’ enquired Felix.
‘Yes,’ said Mr Matteson, and for a moment he smiled. Felix didn’t think it was a very nice smile. He handed him Owen’s scrap of paper.
‘Can you tell me if you have this in stock?’
Mr Matteson raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that how he did it?’ He took the paper into his stockroom but quickly returned. ‘Gone,’ he reported.
‘Would you be able to prove there ever was any? You can see why I’m asking of course. Do you use the stuff yourself?’
‘Not now, it’s no longer on the syllabus, but it ought to be on the shelf. My last demonstration will be in my daybook. The Head insists it’s filled out whenever one uses dangerous or explosive chemicals, so there will certainly be evidence that the stuff was there. I’ll need to look for the book though, when I can remember which it was.’
‘But there’s no way of proving if the chemical was available last week?’
‘Not that I can think of.’ He led them into the stockroom. ‘Look how many bottles there are. We ought to do an inventory I suppose.’
‘Is this reaction generally known about?’
‘Probably not among the boys. There’s only one I’d perhaps have expected to know, and that’s his handwriting.’
‘Who do you think wrote it then?’
‘Our school genius, Quigley.’
‘Yes, that’s right. Do I detect dislike there, Mr Matteson?’
‘I don’t dislike the boy, no, but I find him disturbing. I think most masters would say the same.’
◆◆◆
‘I’d say our man made a mistake there,’ said Felix. ‘It’s true we only have Matteson’s word that the stuff ever existed but I don’t really doubt it, do you? It seems increasingly clear to me that the murderer is a member of staff and not a boy; for which, let us give thanks. It defies belief that a boy would come up with that idea, much less use it in a disciplined way.’
‘Unless it’s Quigley himself.’
‘He’d need to have a peculiar mentality if it’s him – confession by increments, as it were – though one can’t rule it out. We seem to be going backwards rather than forwards, don’t we? The fellow seems untrappable. If only we knew what Willoughby was doing on Sunday afternoon. What information do we actually have? He’s spotted by our boating couple at about eleven in the morning, apparently waiting for someone or something. Then he’s not seen again until about twelve-thirty, popping his head into the staffroom, by which time he’s changed into his games clothes. Has he been doing something while wearing them and is about to change back, or is he about to begin? Does any of this depend on finding the person he’s been looking for? And did he, in fact, find him? Thereafter, there’s not a sign of him. It’s all very queer.’
◆◆◆
‘Yes, it’s the play all right,’ said Felix, listening at the door of the school hall. And that, if I’m not mistaken, is the ubiquitous Mr Noble holding forth.’
‘Packing up by the sound of it,’ said Rattigan.
They stood back to avoid the stampede of departing young thespians, all bent on getting to the next class on time.
‘Walk, don’t run!’ called Noble reflexively. ‘Not,’ he confided to the detectives, ‘that they ever take a blind bit of notice. May I help at all?’
‘Yes, you can lend us Mornix for five minutes, if you will.’
‘By all means. Have them as long as you like. I’ve got them for PE next – I seem to have been saddled with it – and I don’t suppose they’ll mind missing that. I’d heard they’ve been “helping the police with their enquiries.” Is it they that found the crossbow?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t comment on that,’ smiled Felix. ‘Let’s just say they’re proving quite useful to us.’
Noble went off grinning. ‘Must be the first time in their lives, I should think.’
‘Hello, sir,’ said Morley, as they arrived at the detectives’ office,
‘have you caught him yet?’
‘No, not yet. Come in and close the door. What are you in the play? Have you got speaking parts?’
‘I have, unfortunately,’ sighed Nixon. ‘I’m Lady Anne Neville.’
‘That’s because he’s a pwetty boy,’ teased Morley. ‘Except his voice keeps cracking, which rather spoils the effect. I’m just Tressel, and Tomlinson is Berkeley. That’s if his appendix ever stops grumbling. I think one of us says something but we haven’t done that bit yet.’
‘Lady Neville is a lot to learn,’ said Felix, impressed. ‘And one of the bearers does have a line. If I remember rightly it’s something like, “My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass,”’
‘Gosh, sir! I didn’t know policemen knew Shakespeare.’
‘You’d be surprised at what policemen know. Unfortunately there are things that we don’t know at the moment and we’re hoping you can help. What we want, if you would be so kind, is for you to use your legendary detecting abilities to find out what Mr Willoughby was doing last Sunday afternoon. If none of the masters know, and they don’t appear to, it’s possible there are boys that do, even if they only noticed him about the place. At some point, of course, he was murdered but we want to know about what he was up to before that. We particularly want to know what he was doing in the old clothes he used for teaching, which we know he was wearing at about twelve-thirty. Had he, for example, been refereeing some informal game?’
‘I’ve never heard of him doing that,’ said Morley. ‘Nobody would have wanted him to I shouldn’t think. The less one saw of him the better.’
‘It might have been something to do with Cadets,’ hazarded Nixon.
‘Are either of you in the Cadets?’ They both shook their heads. ‘Then you’ll have to find someone who is and ask them about it. I want you to be reasonably discreet, mind. You can hardly keep it a secret but there’s no need to shout it from the rooftops. Just go quietly about the place and chat to boys you meet. Only ask boys, not masters, and see that you stay together at all times. If someone or something worries or alarms you, stop immediately and come and tell us. Understood? You can report to me or one of my sergeants whenever you like. But before you go, tell me in confidence, what do you think of Mr Matteson?’
An Education in Death (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 9) Page 9