“I cannot undertake to find the criminal,” she said, emphasizing a word which nobody, so far, had used, “before the inquest is over and the verdict has been given, unless, of course, the proceedings should be adjourned.”
“You will not attempt to find the culprit until after the inquest?” asked Gascoigne, mingling incredulity with the disappointment in his tone.
“It is doubtful whether I can find him or her in so short a time, and that would settle our argument,” Dame Beatrice stated calmly. “All the same, I shall be glad to accept your invitation to have a word with your staff.”
“Anything, anything! Anything which will help to clear up this dreadful matter.”
“I wonder, then, since you are so good, whether I might begin with you yourself.” She glanced around the assembly. “You would prefer to answer my questions in private, I think.”
“No, no, not at all. I should prefer my staff to hear anything I have to say, although I fear there is little I can tell you.”
“I believe that Mr. Jones was a relative of your own.”
“Oh, yes, yes, indeed. Only by marriage, of course, but in that way we were related. He was my deceased wife’s brother.”
“When did he join your staff?”
“Four years ago last March.”
“Did he obtain the post by merit or because of the relationship?”
Gascoigne displayed horrified disapproval of this question, but decided to answer it in the same dispassionate tone as that of his inquisitor.
“Both,” he said. “He was a competent instructor, but I must admit that he was preferred to other candidates for the post because—well, for my dear wife’s sake—I felt that I owed him a living.”
“Very naturally, I suppose. Did the appointment cause any surprise or ill-feeling?”
“Well, it is strange that you should ask that. I had intended the gymnastics post to go to one of our old students. In fact I had half-promised it to him, and I know he was bitterly disappointed when I gave it to Davy. Fortunately another post, that of swimming coach, fell vacant, so I gave this fellow the job. Unfortunately he turned out to be something of a sadist. The students resented his methods and in the end they beat him up so severely that he had to go to hospital. James now holds the post and I wish he could be persuaded to stay with us. Now, Dame Beatrice, is there any way in which I can further assist you?”
“If I am to talk to some of the students, it would be helpful if you could suggest which of them you would like me to examine.”
“Ah, yes, of course.” He went over to a filing-cabinet. “I keep a reasonably detailed note of the reasons for students coming here and my own reasons for accepting them. If you would care to glance through these,” he handed her a fat folder, “I think you will get some idea of which cases would most interest you.”
Miss Yale, who had returned while this conversation was going on, now remarked, in a most emphatic tone, “I’ve got something important to say, I’ve been checking the equipment. That’s to say, I’ve been inspecting the cupboard where the javelins are kept. There’s one I think you’d better look at, Gassie.”
“Not blood-stained?” asked Gascoigne, alarmed.
“No, but you had better come and see it. Henry, you, too.”
Without being invited, Dame Beatrice and Laura added themselves to the party and the five of them crossed the field to the changing-rooms. Miss Yale unlocked the door, led the way past the cupboards and lockers, through an arch and so into a room where the apparatus was kept. Here she unlocked a cupboard whose doors were of steel. There were a dozen javelins neatly stacked on grooved shelves, four javelins to each shelf. Miss Yale waved a large hand and stood back.
“Take a look, Gassie,” she said.
“You know the stock and I do not,” said Gascoigne to Henry. “What is Miss Yale telling us?” Henry cast an eye over the javelins and took up one of the implements by the cord-bound grip. He weighted it with bent elbow and shook it a little, then he held its point towards Miss Yale.
“This the one you mean?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. You can see why, can’t you? As soon as Gassie mentioned red paint I thought of red herrings.”
“Red herrings?” repeated Gascoigne blankly.
“So you dashed across here,” said Henry, “just like that.”
“Certainly I did.”
“Why?” asked Dame Beatrice.
“Because, if Henry can’t count, I can,” replied Miss Yale firmly. “The last time I checked the javelins, my four were there, but Henry’s tally was seven, not eight.”
“There are eight here now,” said Laura.
“I confess I didn’t realise one of mine was missing until now,” said Henry. “I only count them at stock-taking. I unlock the cupboard and stand by while the chaps help themselves.”
“Why did you suddenly decide to check?” repeated Dame Beatrice.
“Why?” said Miss Yale, in a tone which indicated that she was unused to being asked to explain her actions. “Oh, I don’t really know. Javelins having entered into the business, I thought it might be as well to look at the College collection of them, that’s all. And it’s just as well, perhaps, that I did.”
“I don’t really see why,” said Gascoigne testily, because he was alarmed. “After all, now that the stains on my javelin are found to be red paint, we still have to question whether the fatal wound inflicted on Davy was caused by a javelin at all. It does not follow automatically, does it?” he went on. “The doctor only mentions a stab-wound.”
“Put your finger on the point of the javelin which Henry is holding, and don’t press too hard,” said Miss Yale grimly. “If that bit of steel was ever issued by a highly respectable manufacturer of sports equipment, I’ll swallow it.”
“Well, yes,” said Gascoigne, gingerly touching the dagger-sharp point which Henry obligingly advanced towards him. “Somebody has tampered with this. Again, though, it may have been meant as a joke, don’t you think? The point, although murderously sharp, is perfectly clean.”
“I think the sooner it’s handed over to the police the better, anyway,” said Henry. “I will take it over to College, Gassie, and perhaps you will ring up the inspector.”
They returned to the Warden’s sitting-room, where the rest of the staff were awaiting them. Gascoigne rang up the police immediately he had taken the javelin from Henry and had locked it up in the ante-room. While he was telephoning, the staff heard the story of Miss Yale’s discovery of the altered javelin. She and Henry told it between them. Gascoigne returned while they were being questioned by their audience.
“When was the last stock-taking done?” asked Jerry, ignoring Gascoigne’s entrance.
“Three months ago,” Henry replied. “I checked all the equipment myself to see what repairs or replacements were necessary. The javelins were all in order then. I can swear to that.”
“Number correct as well?”
“Certainly. We always keep a dozen of them in stock. I can’t think how I came to overlook one, if what Miss Yale says is true.”
“So some clever blighter sneaked one and put a new head on it,” said Laura.
“Well, the workshops are always open and we don’t supervise them much.”
“Three months ago,” said Martin thoughtfully. “Could have been done by some joker who’s left, then. It need not be one of our present lot at all.”
“I think it’s pretty recent,” said Henry. “A javelin with that new head on it wouldn’t behave like an ordinary one. When I held it just now as one would at the beginning of the run-up, I could feel at once that the balance wasn’t right. If we’d been using it before Jonah’s accident, my squad would have noticed it at once, so it can’t have been done very long.”
“I wonder whether I might have a word with you, Mr. Henry?” asked Dame Beatrice.