“Satisfied, fat man?’ said Cockshut who was sitting arrogantly in his chair. He had the top of a Thermos flask in his hand; there was other evidence — packets of sandwiches, crisps, blanket-rolls — that they had come prepared for a lengthy stay. Dalziel locked eyes with Cockshut and leaned so close to him he could smell the whisky fumes rising from his plastic cup.
“I will be before I leave,’ he said quietly.
“Ah, get stuffed!”
Roote coughed politely behind him.
“I’m sorry, Superintendent. We didn’t realize that this was no longer the principal’s study. If we had known that the police had taken over the room absolutely, of course we wouldn’t have entered.”
Dalziel turned and saw for the first time the long wall facing the window. Across it someone had scribbled his name, misspelling it but managing the accompanying four letter word correctly.
“An odd thing to write if you thought you were occupying Dr. Lander’s room,’ he said with a faint smile.
Franny returned the smile apologetically.
“It was done when you started shouting at the door. I’m sorry. I’ll send someone in to wash it off.”
“I’d be obliged,’ replied Dalziel.
Tine,’ said Franny. ”ll leave quietly now and go and join the others in the new block. This is purely an internal dispute, of course. I’m extremely sorry you’ve been fetched from your bed. Right, everybody.
Pack up! We’re leaving.”
There was a general bustle round the room, everybody moving except Cockshut who sat glowering at the superintendent. Roote walked over to the door, unlocked it and opened it. Landor and Disney were still outside, joined by a group of other members of staff now. Ellie Soper was there, Marion Cargo and Miss. Scotby. Also Pascoe who nodded at Dalziel, and received a slight jerk of the head in reply. He turned and went out of the main door.
“Good evening, Dr. Landor,’ said Franny. ”re just leaving.”
A look of relief passed over the principal’s face, but did not linger long.
“No,’ said Dalziel.
Everyone stopped. Everyone looked at him.
“No one’s leaving.”
For a second nobody moved, then there was a general surge towards the open door.
“Sergeant!”
Through the main entrance came Pascoe accompanied by half a dozen uniformed policemen. They filled the study doorway in a very solid fashion. There was only one of Constable Shattuck who came and stood outside the window, but seen through a glass darkly, he looked even more stern and unpassable than those within.
Dalziel spoke.
“I am holding everyone in this room on suspicion of illegal entry, of interfering or being accessories to interfering with evidence and statements in an official investigation ‘
“But we’ve touched nothing!’ protested Franny.
“I really think,’ began Landor nervously, but Dalziel ignored them both.
‘ — of causing damage to property by defacing a wall and — ‘ he sniffed the air ‘ — I think we might add illegal possession of the drug, cannabis. Sergeant. I want the names of everyone here, I want them cautioned individually, I want their statements and I want their fingerprints.” “He can’t do it,’ said Cockshut, mockingly. ‘ fat bastard’s bluffing.”
He lifted the cup to his lips. Dalziel moved swiftly across and took it from his hand, careful not to spill the contents.
“I want this analyzed as well, Sergeant. If, as my sensitive nose tells me, it is Glen Grant that’s being debased in this coffee, I think we’ll add a charge of theft against Mr. Cockshut. Right, now, who’s got the keys?”
Again a stunned silence.
“Keys?’ said someone tremulously.
“The set of duplicate, or master keys,’ said Dalziel patiently. The ones you used to get into this room, to unlock my desk and my filing cabinet.
Those keys. Oh come on, Mr. Roote, you’re an intelligent man, I hear.
There’ll be fingerprints over every bit of paper you touched in there.
And over my whisky bottle too I’ve no doubt.”
“You’re mistaken, I assure you,’ said Franny, spreading out his hands before him, the picture of injured innocence. ‘ I do think if you’re going to make this absurd fuss, lovey, we ought to have some legal representation. We’re entitled, aren’t we?”
He picked up the telephone before anyone could stop him. Obviously someone was sitting at the ready at the other end of the line.
“Hello, love,’ he said softly. ‘ here. We’re having a bit of trouble with the police down in Simeon’s old study. Yes, the police.
Just tell the others in case they’re worried, there’s a dear. And get Mr. Pearl, the solicitor, on the line. Ask him to come over. Many thanks.”
He replaced the receiver. Dalziel had made no attempt to interrupt, but his face was hard.
“Dr. Landor, these students’ names please.”
Landor’s face was a mask of misery as he hesitated whether to speak or not, but he was saved from the decision and its attendant obloquy by Miss. Disney who pushed forward, majestic in her voluminous, quilted dressing-gown, and said, ‘ is outrageous!” For a second, Dalziel thought she was referring to him. But instantly she followed it up by beginning a recital of the names of those present.
Pascoe busily made notes.
Dalziel knew he had to move quickly now. The last thing he wanted was for his investigations to be complicated by a full scale student-police confrontation. While it had seemed possible to isolate this small group, he had been happy to see they got what he firmly believed they deserved.
But the moment Roote had been allowed to lift the telephone, he knew that it would require swift thinking to avoid either a retreat or a battle. Personally, he didn’t give a damn how unpopular he was; in fact at times he gave the impression of revelling in it. But the job he was here to do was nothing to do with student politics and he had no desire to get involved at that particular moment.
Disney was coming to the end of her recital of names now, oblivious to the abuse which was being directed at her from one or two quarters.
Privately, Dalziel appreciated the aptness of many of the epithets, but he was too busy talking to the uniformed men to pay full attention.
“Move away quietly. Wait outside the main gates for half an hour, but don’t come back in unless you get a message direct from me. All right? And keep out of sight, eh?” Roote watched them disappear with an amused smile on his face.
“Finished, Sergeant? Right, Mr. Roote, if you and your friends will kindly leave, we’ll sort out this matter in the morning.”
“You’ve changed your tune, blubber-gut,’ jeered Cockshut.
“Yes, I have,’ said Dalziel quietly. ‘ I can start playing another, laddie, that’ll make you dance if I have much more of your lip.”
Cockshut looked as if he was going to indulge in another outburst, but Roote silenced him by making for the door.
“Come along, my dears,’ he said. ”s go and see the t others.”
He too knew when to make a diplomatic withdrawal. Dalziel followed them out into the warm night and took a couple of deep breaths. They had been just in time. A large and noisy group of students, some hundred he reckoned, was making its way down the drive from the new admin, block.
Franny and the others were greeted with rapturous cheers.
“Shall we get inside?’ suggested Pascoe at his shoulder.
“No. There’s just a lot of wind in that lot. Get back in. Here’s my keys. Check there’s nothing missing. I doubt if there will be, they’re not quite daft. In fact Roote looked a sight too complacent. I doubt if we’ll find a print. Not his anyway, but the others are probably less careful. And check my whisky, eh?”
“Why did they want to do it anyway?’ asked Pascoe.
“That’ll bear thinking about. Give me a ring if anything turns up. I’m off to my bed. You’d better make yourself a bed up in the study and spend the night there. I doubt if they’ll be back, but you never know.”