III
Adam whistled cheerfully as he tacked up the wire netting round the tennis court. The door of the Sports Pavilion opened and Mademoiselle Blanche, the little mousy French Mistress, looked out. She seemed startled at the sight of Adam. She hesitated for a moment and then went back inside.
“Wonder what she’s been up to,” said Adam to himself. It would not have occurred to him that Mademoiselle Blanche had been up to anything, if it had not been for her manner. She had a guilty look which immediately roused surmise in his mind. Presently she came out again, closing the door behind her, and paused to speak as she passed him.
“Ah, you repair the netting, I see.”
“Yes, miss.”
“They are very fine courts here, and the swimming pool and the pavilion too. Oh! le sport! You think a lot in England of le sport, do you not?”
“Well, I suppose we do, miss.”
“Do you play tennis yourself?” Her eyes appraised him in a definitely feminine way and with a faint invitation in her glance. Adam wondered once more about her. It struck him that Mademoiselle Blanche was a somewhat unsuitable French Mistress for Meadowbank.
“No,” he said untruthfully, “I don’t play tennis. Haven’t got the time.”
“You play cricket, then?”
“Oh well, I played cricket as a boy. Most chaps do.”
“I have not had much time to look around,” said Angèle Blanche. “Not until today and it was so fine I thought I would like to examine the Sports Pavilion. I wish to write home to my friends in France who keep a school.”
Again Adam wondered a little. It seemed a lot of unnecessary explanation. It was almost as though Mademoiselle Blanche wished to excuse her presence out here at the Sports Pavilion. But why should she? She had a perfect right to go anywhere in the school grounds that she pleased. There was certainly no need to apologize for it to a gardener’s assistant. It raised queries again in his mind. What had this young woman been doing in the Sports Pavilion?
He looked thoughtfully at Mademoiselle Blanche. It would be a good thing perhaps to know a little more about her. Subtly, deliberately, his manner changed. It was still respectful but not quite so respectful. He permitted his eyes to tell her that she was an attractive-looking young woman.
“You must find it a bit dull sometimes working in a girls’ school, miss,” he said.
“It does not amuse me very much, no.”
“Still,” said Adam, “I suppose you get your times off, don’t you?”
There was a slight pause. It was as though she were debating with herself. Then, he felt it was with slight regret, the distance between them was deliberately widened.
“Oh yes,” she said, “I have adequate time off. The conditions of employment here are excellent.” She gave him a little nod of the head. “Good morning.” She walked off towards the house.
“You’ve been up to something,” said Adam to himself, “in the Sports Pavilion.”
He waited till she was out of sight, then he left his work, went across to the Sports Pavilion and looked inside. But nothing that he could see was out of place. “All the same,” he said to himself, “she was up to something.”
As he came out again, he was confronted unexpectedly by Ann Shapland.
“Do you know where Miss Bulstrode is?” she asked.
“I think she’s gone back to the house, miss. She was talking to Briggs just now.”
Ann was frowning.
“What are you doing in the Sports Pavilion?”
Adam was slightly taken aback. Nasty suspicious mind she’s got, he thought. He said, with a faint insolence in his voice:
“Thought I’d like to take a look at it. No harm in looking, is there?”
“Oughtn’t you to be getting on with your work?”
“I’ve just about finished nailing the wire round the tennis court.” He turned, looking up at the building behind him. “This is new, isn’t it? Must have cost a packet. The best of everything the young ladies here get, don’t they?”
“They pay for it,” said Ann dryly.
“Pay through the nose, so I’ve heard,” agreed Adam.
He felt a desire he hardly understood himself, to wound or annoy this girl. She was so cool always, so self-sufficient. He would really enjoy seeing her angry.
But Ann did not give him that satisfaction. She merely said:
“You’d better finish tacking up the netting,” and went back towards the house. Halfway there, she slackened speed and looked back. Adam was busy at the tennis wire. She looked from him to the Sports Pavilion in a puzzled manner.
Eight
MURDER
I
On night duty in Hurst St. Cyprian Police Station, Sergeant Green yawned. The telephone rang and he picked up the receiver. A moment later his manner had changed completely. He began scribbling rapidly on a pad.
“Yes? Meadowbank? Yes—and the name? Spell it, please. S-P-R-I-N-G-for greengage?-E-R. Springer. Yes. Yes, please see that nothing is disturbed. Someone’ll be with you very shortly.”
Rapidly and methodically he then proceeded to put into motion the various procedures indicated.
“Meadowbank?” said Detective Inspector Kelsey when his turn came. “That’s the girls’ school, isn’t it? Who is it who’s been murdered?”
“Death of a Games Mistress,” said Kelsey, thoughtfully. “Sounds like the title of a thriller on a railway bookstall.”
“Who’s likely to have done her in, d’you think?” said the Sergeant. “Seems unnatural.”
“Even Games Mistresses may have their love lives,” said Detective Inspector Kelsey. “Where did they say the body was found?”
“In the Sports Pavilion. I suppose that’s a fancy name for the gymnasium.”
“Could be,” said Kelsey. “Death of a Games Mistress in the Gymnasium. Sounds a highly athletic crime, doesn’t it? Did you say she was shot?”
“Yes.”
“They find the pistol?”
“No.”
“Interesting,” said Detective Inspector Kelsey, and having assembled his retinue, he departed to carry out his duties.
II
The front door at Meadowbank was open, with light streaming from it, and here Inspector Kelsey was received by Miss Bulstrode herself. He knew her by sight, as indeed most people in the neighbourhood did. Even in this moment of confusion and uncertainty, Miss Bulstrode remained eminently herself, in command of the situation and in command of her subordinates.
“Detective Inspector Kelsey, madam,” said the Inspector.
“What would you like to do first, Inspector Kelsey? Do you wish to go out to the Sports Pavilion or do you want to hear full details?”
“The doctor is with me,” said Kelsey. “If you will show him and two of my men to where the body is, I should like a few words with you.”
“Certainly. Come into my sitting room. Miss Rowan, will you show the doctor and the others the way?” She added, “One of my staff is out there seeing that nothing is disturbed.”
“Thank you, madam.”
Kelsey followed Miss Bulstrode into her sitting room. “Who found the body?”
“The matron, Miss Johnson. One of the girls had earache and Miss Johnson was up attending to her. As she did so, she noticed the curtains were not pulled properly and going to pull them she observed that there was a light on in the Sports Pavilion which there should not have been at 1 a.m.,” finished Miss Bulstrode dryly.
“Quite so,” said Kelsey. “Where is Miss Johnson now?”
“She is here if you want to see her?”
“Presently. Will you go on, madam.”
“Miss Johnson went and woke up another member of my staff, Miss Chadwick. They decided to go out and investigate. As they were leaving by the side door they heard the sound of a shot, whereupon they ran as quickly as they could towards the Sports Pavilion. On arrival there—”
The Inspector broke in. “Thank you, Miss Bulstrode. If, as you sa
y, Miss Johnson is available, I will hear the next part from her. But first, perhaps, you will tell me something about the murdered woman.”
“Her name is Grace Springer.”
“She has been with you long?”
“No. She came to me this term. My former Games Mistress left to take up a post in Australia.”
“And what did you know about this Miss Springer?”
“Her testimonials were excellent,” said Miss Bulstrode.
“You didn’t know her personally before that?”
“No.”
“Have you any idea at all, even the vaguest, of what might have precipitated this tragedy? Was she unhappy? Any unfortunate entanglements?”
Miss Bulstrode shook her head. “Nothing that I know of. I may say,” she went on, “that it seems to me most unlikely. She was not that kind of a woman.”
“You’d be surprised,” said Inspector Kelsey darkly.
“Would you like me to fetch Miss Johnson now?”
“If you please. When I’ve heard her story I’ll go out to the gym—or the—what d’you call it—Sports Pavilion?”
“It is a newly built addition to the school this year,” said Miss Bulstrode. “It is built adjacent to the swimming pool and it comprises a squash court and other features. The racquets, lacrosse and hockey sticks are kept there, and there is a drying room for swim suits.”
“Was there any reason why Miss Springer should be in the Sports Pavilion at night?”
“None whatever,” said Miss Bulstrode unequivocally.
“Very well, Miss Bulstrode. I’ll talk to Miss Johnson now.”
Miss Bulstrode left the room and returned bringing the matron with her. Miss Johnson had had a sizeable dollop of brandy administered to her to pull her together after her discovery of the body. The result was a slightly added loquacity.
“This is Detective Inspector Kelsey,” said Miss Bulstrode. “Pull yourself together, Elspeth, and tell him exactly what happened.”
“It’s dreadful,” said Miss Johnson, “it’s really dreadful. Such a thing has never happened before in all my experience. Never! I couldn’t have believed it, I really couldn’t’ve believed it. Miss Springer too!”
Inspector Kelsey was a perceptive man. He was always willing to deviate from the course of routine if a remark struck him as unusual or worth following up.
“It seems to you, does it,” he said, “very strange that it was Miss Springer who was murdered?”
“Well yes, it does, Inspector. She was so—well, so tough, you know. So hearty. Like the sort of woman one could imagine taking on a burglar single-handed—or two burglars.”
“Burglars? H’m,” said Inspector Kelsey. “Was there anything to steal in the Sports Pavilion?”
“Well, no, really I can’t see what there can have been. Swim suits of course, sports paraphernalia.”
“The sort of thing a sneak thief might have taken,” agreed Kelsey. “Hardly worth breaking in for, I should have thought. Was it broken into, by the way?”
“Well, really, I never thought to look,” said Miss Johnson. “I mean, the door was open when we got there and—”
“It had not been broken into,” said Miss Bulstrode.
“I see,” said Kelsey. “A key was used.” He looked at Miss Johnson. “Was Miss Springer well-liked?” he asked.
“Well, really, I couldn’t say. I mean, after all, she’s dead.”
“So, you didn’t like her,” said Kelsey perceptively, ignoring Miss Johnson’s finer feelings.
“I don’t think anyone could have liked her very much,” said Miss Johnson. “She had a very positive manner, you know. Never minded contradicting people flatly. She was very efficient and took her work very seriously I should say, wouldn’t you, Miss Bulstrode?”
“Certainly,” said Miss Bulstrode.
Kelsey returned from the bypath he had been pursuing. “Now, Miss Johnson, let’s hear just what happened.”
“Jane, one of our pupils, had earache. She woke up with a rather bad attack of it and came to me. I got some remedies and when I’d got her back to bed, I saw the window curtains were flapping and thought perhaps it would be better for once if her window was not opened at night as it was blowing rather in that direction. Of course the girls always sleep with their windows open. We have difficulties sometimes with the foreigners, but I always insist that—”
“That really doesn’t matter now,” said Miss Bulstrode. “Our general rules of hygiene would not interest Inspector Kelsey.”
“No, no, of course not,” said Miss Johnson. “Well, as I say I went to shut the window and what was my surprise to see a light in the Sports Pavilion. It was quite distinct, I couldn’t mistake it. It seemed to be moving about.”
“You mean it was not the electric light turned on but the light of a torch or flashlight?”
“Yes, yes, that’s what it must have been. I thought at once ‘Dear me, what’s anyone doing out there at this time of night?’ Of course I didn’t think of burglars. That would have been a very fanciful idea, as you said just now.”
“What did you think of?” asked Kelsey.
Miss Johnson shot a glance at Miss Bulstrode and back again.
“Well, really, I don’t know that I had any ideas in particular. I mean, well—well really, I mean I couldn’t think—”
Miss Bulstrode broke in. “I should imagine that Miss Johnson had the idea that one of our pupils might have gone out there to keep an assignation with someone,” she said. “Is that right, Elspeth?”
Miss Johnson gasped. “Well, yes, the idea did come into my head just for the moment. One of our Italian girls, perhaps. Foreigners are so much more precocious than English girls.”
“Don’t be so insular,” said Miss Bulstrode. “We’ve had plenty of English girls trying to make unsuitable assignations. It was a very natural thought to have occurred to you and probably the one that would have occurred to me.”
“Go on,” said Inspector Kelsey.
“So I thought the best thing,” went on Miss Johnson, “was to go to Miss Chadwick and ask her to come out with me and see what was going on.”
“Why Miss Chadwick?” asked Kelsey. “Any particular reason for selecting that particular mistress?”
“Well, I didn’t want to disturb Miss Bulstrode,” said Miss Johnson, “and I’m afraid it’s rather a habit of ours always to go to Miss Chadwick if we don’t want to disturb Miss Bulstrode. You see, Miss Chadwick’s been here a very long time and has had so much experience.”
“Anyway,” said Kelsey, “you went to Miss Chadwick and woke her up. Is that right?”
“Yes. She agreed with me that we must go out there immediately. We didn’t wait to dress or anything, just put on pullovers and coats and went out by the side door. And it was then, just as we were standing on the path, that we heard a shot from the Sports Pavilion. So we ran along the path as fast as we could. Rather stupidly we hadn’t taken a torch with us and it was hard to see where we were going. We stumbled once or twice but we got there quite quickly. The door was open. We switched on the light and—”
Kelsey interrupted. “There was no light then when you got there. Not a torch or any other light?”
“No. The place was in darkness. We switched on the light and there she was. She—”
“That’s all right,” said Inspector Kelsey kindly, “you needn’t describe anything. I shall be going out there now and I shall see for myself. You didn’t meet anyone on your way there?”
“No.”
“Or hear anybody running away?”
“No. We didn’t hear anything.”
“Did anybody else hear the shot in the school building?” asked Kelsey looking at Miss Bulstrode.
She shook her head. “No. Not that I know of. Nobody has said that they heard it. The Sports Pavilion is some distance away and I rather doubt if the shot would be noticeable.”
“Perhaps from one of the rooms on the side of the house giving on the Sport
s Pavilion?”
“Hardly, I think, unless one were listening for such a thing. I’m sure it wouldn’t be loud enough to wake anybody up.”
“Well, thank you,” said Inspector Kelsey. “I’ll be going out to the Sports Pavilion now.”
“I will come with you,” said Miss Bulstrode.
“Do you want me to come too?” asked Miss Johnson. “I will if you like. I mean it’s no good shirking things, is it? I always feel that one must face whatever comes and—”
“Thank you,” said Inspector Kelsey, “there’s no need, Miss Johnson. I wouldn’t think of putting you to any further strain.”
“So awful,” said Miss Johnson, “it makes it worse to feel I didn’t like her very much. In fact, we had a disagreement only last night in the Common Room. I stuck to it that too much P.T. was bad for some girls—the more delicate girls. Miss Springer said nonsense, that they were just the ones who needed it. Toned them up and made new women of them, she said. I said to her that really she didn’t know everything though she might think she did. After all I have been professionally trained and I know a great deal more about delicacy and illness than Miss Springer does—did, though I’ve no doubt that Miss Springer knows everything about parallel bars and vaulting horses and coaching tennis. But, oh dear, now I think of what’s happened, I wish I hadn’t said quite what I did. I suppose one always feels like that afterwards when something dreadful has occurred. I really do blame myself.”
“Now sit down there, dear,” said Miss Bulstrode, settling her on the sofa. “You just sit down and rest and pay no attention to any little disputes you may have had. Life would be very dull if we agreed with each other on every subject.”
Miss Johnson sat down shaking her head, then yawned. Miss Bulstrode followed Kelsey into the hall.
“I gave her rather a lot of brandy,” she said, apologetically. “It’s made her a little voluble. But not confused, do you think?”
“No,” said Kelsey. “She gave quite a clear account of what happened.”
Miss Bulstrode led the way to the side door.
“Is this the way Miss Johnson and Miss Chadwick went out?”
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