Motives For Murder

by J F Straker

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ said Anne. ‘Last term he never once suggested that I should ask her over, and there would have been nothing injudicious in that.’

  It was a pity they could not discuss it with Diana herself, Anne thought. But Diana, like Smelton, would allow no intrusion on her privacy. She was friendly and easy to talk to on impersonal matters, but she was rather the cat that walked alone.

  ‘But why else should he leave her all that money?’ asked Miss Webber. She could have made suggestions, some of them highly scandalous; but since it was against her policy to voice them she hoped someone else would voice them for her.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Anne admitted. ‘I haven’t a clue.’ She turned to Russell. ‘You’ve been unusually quiet, Colin. What are you thinking about?’

  ‘I was wondering,’ said Colin, ‘how Diana’s parents came to christen her Euphemia.’

  The words were lightly spoken, but there was no accompanying smile on his face. Now what’s the matter, Anne wondered, recognizing the symptoms. I hope he isn’t sickening for another broody spell.

  4 - A Lamp Goes Bang

  ‘When a man asks a girl to go for a walk,’ said Anne, ‘it seems reasonable for her to assume that he doesn’t intend only to keep putting one damned foot after another. A little romantic conversation is the least she is entitled to expect. Yet during the last ten minutes the only word that has escaped you was when you tripped over a root. And there was nothing romantic about that.’

  Colin grinned. ‘Sorry, ducks. I was busy with me thoughts.’

  ‘About me?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘No. About J.C.’

  ‘Oh.’ And then, after a pause, ‘What about him?’

  ‘Only that his death has been a mighty convenient event for every one connected with the school.’

  Anne considered this.

  ‘Yes, I suppose that’s true. For the Latimers certainly. Grandfather used to say there was nothing Mr Latimer wouldn’t do to get Abbey Lodge back. Only there wasn’t anything he could do, short of murder.’

  ‘Not only the Latimers,’ said Colin. ‘There’s Smelton too. Apparently he’s had his eye on that flat for quite a while. And what about Diana? Three thousand quid is a tidy sum to a working girl.’

  ‘It’s a tidy sum to most people.’

  ‘Yes. And then there’s us. You’re going to be absolutely rolling in the stuff, and I don’t suppose you are likely to grudge me the odd quid or two when I’m short. Yet if J.C. hadn’t been drowned we would probably have got married and been cut off without a shilling. Either that — or we should have had to wait until he pegged out naturally. And that might not have happened for years.’

  ‘Or I might have been bludgeoned into marrying James,’ Anne added.

  ‘Yes, there’s that too,’ he agreed, not relishing the thought. ‘And even the boys benefit by two thousand quid.’

  ‘That only leaves Chris and the matrons. It seems a pity they should be left out, poor dears.’

  ‘Chris isn’t left out,’ said Colin. ‘Not if he’s hoping to marry Diana.’

  ‘Which he won’t.’ Anne spoke with conviction. ‘Diana has an eye for the main chance. She won’t throw herself away on a poor assistant master with no prospects.’

  ‘Why not? You’re going to.’

  ‘I haven’t got Diana’s good sense,’ she retorted, beginning to run, and then allowing herself to be caught, spanked, and kissed. When she had recovered her breath she said, ‘It seems rather indecent, doesn’t it, that so many of us should profit from the old man’s accident.’

  ‘If it was an accident.’

  ‘Eh?’ Anne was startled. ‘But of course it was! Oh, I know the coroner hinted at suicide. But that was complete nonsense. If he’d known J.C. he wouldn’t even have suggested it.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of suicide,’ said Colin.

  ‘Then what else ...’ She stopped suddenly, gripping his arm tightly. ‘Colin! You’re not suggesting he was murdered!’

  ‘No, of course not. At least — well, yes, in a way I suppose I am,’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘That accident was just a sight to convenient to be true.’

  ‘So you think we all got together and murdered him? Oh, come off it, darling. Whatever put that idea into your head?’

  ‘It just grew on me, I think, starting with the wrist-watch. It wasn’t like J.C. to forget it — you yourself said he was methodical. In all the years he’s been taking an early-morning dip has he ever made that mistake before?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge. But that only goes back to last March.’

  ‘All right. But you have watched him bathing. What did he do with his watch?’

  ‘Usually he put it on top of his clothes.’ Colin nodded eagerly.

  ‘There! You see? And there’s another thing. His clothes. It wasn’t like J.C. to scatter them the way we found them. Or was it?’

  ‘No,’ Anne agreed, impressed against her will. ‘He always folded them into a neat pile. But all the same, darling, you can’t accuse people of murder on such trifling evidence as that.’

  ‘I know I can’t. All I’m saying is, that, with so many people eagerly awaiting his death, it’s most suspicious that he should have died the way he did.’

  ‘I wasn’t eagerly awaiting his death,’ she retorted with spirit. ‘I hope you weren’t either.’

  ‘No, of course not. I wasn’t thinking of us.’

  ‘Then who were you thinking of?’

  ‘No one in particular. But one could make out a case against most of them. Take Smelton, for instance. He had a motive, he was acting very oddly the evening before (remember how we saw him dashing off to Tanbury?), and he turned up late the next morning — the morning J.C. was drowned — looking perfectly ghastly, with water dripping from his hair and his suit looking as though he had slept in it. And his wife said she hadn’t seen him that morning.’ He glanced at her anxiously. ‘Mind you, all this is between ourselves, Anne. If Smelton got wind of what I’ve been saying he’d probably sue me for slander.’

  The girl smiled to herself. She loved him when he became intense. It was absurd to believe that J.C. had been murdered, but Colin would be terribly hurt if she were to scoff at his fancies. They were real to him, no doubt. In a few days they would probably be forgotten

  Colin was like that. But until they were she must humour him, if only to get them out of his system the sooner.

  ‘I won’t breathe a word,’ she said soberly. ‘Tell me more, darling. In spite of myself I’m impressed.’

  Again he glanced at her, suspicious of this sudden change of mood. There was no trace of a smile on her pretty face.

  ‘Well, old Latimer probably has the strongest motive,’ he went on. ‘J.C. must have been drowned shortly after seven o’clock, and it was a quarter to eight when I met Latimer outside the Fifth Form that morning. That would have given him time enough. Then there is Diana, with her three thousand quid. How do you fancy her?’

  ‘Not at all.’ If she were playing a game at least she would play it properly. Too ready an acceptance of all he said would spoil it; he needed opposition to bite on. And while there had been plenty of sense in what he had said about Smelton and Mr Latimer, there was no sense at all in suspecting Diana. ‘I’m sure she had not the least idea that Grandfather was going to leave her that money. Besides, she was away at the cottage that weekend.’

  ‘She was only four miles away,’ said Colin doggedly, reluctant to release a suspect. ‘She could do that easily on her bike. Her cottage is on the river, so she would know there was a mist that morning. Come to think of it, she might even have rowed down. Less conspicuous. I suppose it would take longer that way, but it could be done.’

  ‘Longer than you think,’ said Anne. ‘It’s not the same river.’

  ‘Oh!’ Colin was disconcerted, and decided temporarily to abandon Diana Farling. He could always return to her later. ‘Well, there’s James. He knew J.C. was in favour of your marrying him, and after th
e encouragement you apparently gave him last term he may have thought you were in favour of it too. You know how conceited he is. And with twenty-five thousand smackers in the bank you would be a pretty good prospect as a wife.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Anne said acidly.

  ‘Don’t get huffy, darling. You know I didn’t mean it like that. Even if you were Cleopatra and the Queen of Sheba rolled into one — where looks are concerned, that is; I’m not referring to their morals or their habits — the money would still add a bit of extra glamour.’

  ‘Of course. Don’t worry, I’m not huffy,’ she assured him truthfully. ‘And I agree that James would be the ideal suspect provided there had been a murder. He was closeted with Grandfather the evening before, and we didn’t see him after that until lunch the next day. Anyone else?’

  ‘Only Chris.’

  ‘Chris?’ Anne forgot the game in her genuine surprise. ‘Why on earth should Chris want to murder J.C.?’

  ‘I don’t know. But it puzzles me that he should have gone out so early that morning. It’s most unlike Chris — he’s the biggest lie-a-bed of the lot of us.’

  ‘Pure coincidence,’ said Anne firmly.

  ‘H’m! I wonder. Is it also a coincidence that he chose to go past the Lodge and along the river?’

  ‘Of course it is. And he certainly wouldn’t have told us he went that way if he had anything to hide.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’re right. I like Chris as much as you do. But one has to face facts, Anne.’

  ‘Yes, darling, of course,’ she said soothingly. ‘Still, I think you’d do better to confine your suspicions to Mr Smelton and the Latimers. They’re far more suitable than Diana or Chris.’ She looked at her watch. ‘It’s time we were making tracks for home. I don’t want to miss my tea.’

  They turned, and for a while there was silence between them. Then Colin said, ‘You think I’m scatty, don’t you? But what about the keys? You seem to have forgotten them.’

  ‘Keys? What keys?’

  ‘Your grandfather’s. You thought it was J.C. who came back to the Lodge after you left it on Saturday morning. But it couldn’t have been, could it? He was dead. So who —’

  ‘Colin!’ She stopped and looked at him, her face penitent. ‘You’re right, I had forgotten. And I never said a word about them at the inquest. Should I have done?’

  ‘You should — but I think it’s just as well you didn’t,’ he said grimly. ‘And you’re missing the point, darling. The keys weren’t on J.C.’s dressing-table, they weren’t in his trousers’ pockets, and he certainly didn’t take them into the river with him. Yet someone — or so you say — used those keys after J.C. was dead to enter the house and rifle his desk. And if that someone didn’t murder J.C. — well, how did he get hold of the keys?’

  Anne did not answer. There seemed suddenly to be less warmth in the October sun, and she shivered. Pulling her jacket around her, she walked on. The ground was hard underfoot; there had been no rain for some days. The hedgerows were thick and green, but already the trees were shedding their foliage, and their brown-tinted leaves carpeted the grass and the lanes. To Anne autumn was the most beautiful season of the year. Now she saw none of its beauty, for Colin’s words had cast a blight upon her mind and her vision.

  What if he were right? What if J.C. had been murdered? The suggestion did not now seem so absurd as when Colin had first made it. Against her will her mind played with the possibility that one of the people among whom she lived and worked was a murderer. It was a shattering and terrifying thought, the more so because she could not envisage any of them in that sinister role. She could not say ‘it must be him’, and go warily in that person’s presence. Every contact, every occasion, would be suspect. Only with Colin would she be able to relax, to talk and act naturally. And even then ...

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked, as they turned into the lane leading to the school.

  ‘What can I do?’ He did not query her reference, for his own thoughts had never left the subject. ‘If I consulted the police they’d laugh at me. One couldn’t blame them either. The coroner was satisfied, and I can’t produce any fresh evidence. Not real evidence.’

  ‘What about the keys? Isn’t that evidence?’

  ‘To you, yes. But not to the police, I imagine.’ He kicked petulantly at a stone. ‘No, it would have to be stronger than that for them to sit up and take notice. Yet I must do something.’

  ‘Couldn’t you find fresh evidence?’

  ‘How? By asking every one what they were up to that morning? A fine mess that would land me in!’

  Yes, thought Anne unhappily, they must do something. It was no longer a game, it was terrifyingly real. Even if they wanted to they could not ignore it now. Colin might be wrong — but if either of them were to have any peace of mind in the future they had to know.

  ‘Why not mention it to Mr Latimer?’ she asked. ‘If you had his authority to question the staff, wouldn’t that make it easier for you?’

  ‘It might — although I don’t see that he has any authority in that respect. And don’t forget that he’s under suspicion himself. And even if he’s completely innocent he’s still likely to refuse. Think of the harm it would do the school if I were proved right. You can’t expect him to acquiesce in his own ruin.’

  ‘I don’t like him much,’ Anne confessed. ‘I think I’m a little afraid of him, too. But I don’t believe he would refuse to co-operate if you could convince him that you may be right.’

  ‘If!’ Colin said with emphasis.

  ‘Well, you have practically convinced me,’ she said sadly. ‘But I wish you hadn’t.’

  ***

  At tea-time Diana Farling had a surprise for them.

  ‘Mrs Bain has changed her mind. She no longer wishes to be alone, and is prepared to accept one of us as a lodger. The headmaster favours you, Chris.’

  The Bains lived in a small cottage about ten minutes’ walk from the school. At intervals since the previous April Mr Latimer had suggested to them that their spare bedroom could profitably be occupied by one of his staff. Mr Bain had had no objection to this, but his wife, an independent, out-spoken woman, had hitherto obstinately refused.

  ‘Me? Why me?’ asked Chris.

  Diana shrugged. ‘It has to be you or Colin, I suppose. And the daughter is at home weekends. She’s quite pretty, I’m told. Maybe Joseph thinks you’re more dependable than Colin.’

  ‘But why does anyone have to go? Why can’t we stay as we are?’

  ‘The headmaster has spoken,’ said Diana. ‘Who are we to question why?’

  ‘Oh, Chris, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault,’ said Anne. ‘I suppose Mr Latimer doesn’t like to refuse the offer in case both sickrooms are needed later in the term. But it’s a shame that you should be turned out of your room on my account.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Chris said. ‘I don’t mind.’

  But it was evident from his expression that he minded very much. Anne guessed it was because he feared he might see less of Diana. ‘What made Mrs Bain change her mind?’ she asked the girl. ‘She has always refused before.’

  ‘Her old man is doing a spell of night-work. She doesn’t like being alone in the cottage at night.’ Diana smiled at Chris, an intimate smile that caused the young man to blush furiously. ‘What time do you finish this evening, Chris? We could go down and see the old girl.’

  ‘I’m free at six-fifteen. Would that do?’ he asked eagerly, the end lost to him in the means.

  ‘That’ll do fine. If you’re feeling thirsty we could call in for a drink at the Plough on the way back.’

  At six-thirty, when Diana and Chris had eventually departed to visit Mrs Bain, Anne and Colin were left alone in the common room. But that evening they had no leisure for romance or detection. Their afternoon walk had occupied time snatched from work, and they were forced to busy themselves with corrections.

  An exclamation from Colin caused Anne to look up from her books.
>
  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s Tony Cuttle’s essay. I told the form to write on “The Most Exciting Day in My Life”, and Tony, of course, has written about his accident.’

  ‘What does he say? Let me look.’

  Colin tossed the exercise book across. Anne read it as he watched her.

  One day I got up to go to school, the boy had written, and came out of my house, and began to walk down the road, and as I came near a bend in the road, near the river I heard a shreek for ‘Help!’ When I heard this, I thought somebody must be drowning. I tried to cut through the brambles and marsh but I could not because it was so bogy, so I went back and ran down the road till I came to the brige. Then I went along the path beside the river, but when I got to where I thought the shreek came from, it was so misty when I got there, that I couldn’t see to the other side of the river. Then I thought I better be getting along to school. So I ran back along the path to the brige and on the road and I cracked into the side of a car, and when I woke up I was in hospitle and ...

  There was more, but Anne did not bother to read it. ‘It doesn’t tell us anything fresh, does it?’ she commented.

  ‘Not really. There’s the cry for help he says he heard; that must have come from J.C.’ He frowned. ‘Tony doesn’t mention Chris, so I suppose the two didn’t meet. Chris didn’t hear J.C., either. Yet I would have thought ... Anne, do you think it would be okay to ask Chris a few pertinent questions? I can’t see him murdering anyone, but he may have seen or heard something that’s important.’

  ‘You would have to do it very tactfully,’ Anne said dubiously. Tact, she knew, was not Colin’s strong suit.

  ‘Yes, of course. Well, I’ll think it over.’

  Tony Cuttle’s essay had caused the dread word ‘murder’ to loom large once more in the girl’s mind, and she found difficulty in concentrating on Form One Arithmetic. Few of the figures behaved as they should, and after a while she abandoned the task. She would get up early and tackle them in the morning.