‘Why, Miss Cornflake, I had no idea you were such an expert! May I have your notebook, please?’
Miss Cornflake, putting on her skirt, her glasses and then a heavy coat, handed over her notebook.
‘Don’t star it, whatever you do,’ she said. ‘It was, actually, rather dud. Didn’t you notice…’
She proceeded with technicalities until Miss Topas, glancing at her watch, decided that she would never get in to Miss Priest’s history lesson. She was feeling slightly irritated with Miss Cornflake. She sat in on Miss Priest’s lesson on the Conversion of the English to Christianity and wrote a slightly acid and decidedly unfair report of it. Then she crossed that out and wrote a snappy comment in Miss Priest’s own notebook, advising her to remember that a class does not consist only of the middle of the front row. Then she crossed that out, too, and gave Miss Priest a better mark than she deserved — or, at least, than the lesson warranted — to compensate herself for her evil feelings.
‘I shan’t come back this afternoon,’ she said, at the end of the morning. ‘You can tell the other three.’
‘Four, Miss Topas,’ said Miss Priest
‘Yes, four,’ said Miss Topas.
‘I wish I could have you for that wretched Nature lesson tomorrow, instead of Miss Mount,’ continued the student, gazing raptly at the mark upon her notebook.
‘Well, you can’t,’ said Miss Topas. ‘I don’t know a single natural order — except fools,’ she added irritably. Miss Priest looked slightly taken aback. ‘And you must remember that you’ve got a class of forty, not a class of six. You talk to nobody but the middle of the front row, you know.’
‘Oh, do I? Oh, thanks, Miss Topas. Now that I remember, I do do that, and you’re quite right. It’s a jolly good tip. Thanks ever so!’
‘Go and have your lunch,’ said Miss Topas, ‘and for God’s sake don’t bolt it.’ She went out to her car and raced back to College, determined to suborn Deborah and make her spend the afternoon in the car on the moorland roads.
Chapter 9
EVIDENCE OF THE SUBMERGED TENTH
« ^ »
Deborah, however, was not available. The police were in possession of Athelstan, for the dead person proved to be the cook whom Mrs Bradley had dismissed. Why she should have been walking by the river-side, either by dark or by daylight, was not yet clear. The police were anxious to get it clear.
Miss Topas, disgruntled, went back to Columba, got out the manuscript of a textbook for schools which she had been threatening (her own word) to finish and publish whilst she was at Cartaret, and, settling down to work, soon became quite cheerful and forgot all about the body, the police, School Practice, Deborah and the afternoon’s outing.
Deborah cursed her own decision to return to the College for lunch. If she had had lunch in the town she would have missed the major part of the police proceedings, she decided, for the police cleared off at half past three and did not show up again for the rest of the week. As it was, they insisted upon interviewing her, although she could tell them nothing which seemed to her of the slightest importance. They also interviewed Miss Cartwright, who had to leave her Practice School in the middle of a geography lesson because she was requested, over the telephone, to report at Hall forthwith.
Mrs Bradley’s first intimation that the police were in the front passage and were seeking an interview was from the newly-returned Lulu, who had remained two days and one night in her new service, and then had come back by motor-coach, explaining that she ‘didn’t like dem strange victuals down thar’ — a statement which Mrs Bradley could scarcely credit. The following dialogue ensued.
‘Well, Lulu, I’m very glad to see you back, and the other maid will be very glad to see her own mistress again.’
‘Sho’, sho’, Mis’ Bradley.’
‘But, Lulu, I ought to tell you that since you went two things have happened which you won’t like at all.’
‘Mis’ Cloud been run home away from you?’
‘No. I’m not as cruel as that!’
‘Ah knows dat, Mis’ Bradley. Dem gentlemen from Wattsdown College done some’un foolish? Just like boys!’
‘Well, it might be that. The fact is, Lulu, we have begun to hear peculiar noises at night’
‘Noises?’
‘Noises.’
‘Lor, Mis’ Bradley, what kind ob noises?’
‘Ghostly noises. Furthermore, I have had to dismiss Cook.’
‘For making noises?’
‘No. Just for the ordinary reasons.’
‘Sho’, sho‘. I know. Sass. Dat cook sho’ is po’ trash!’
That is correct. Well, now, if you stay, and you hear any noises, you mustn’t let them frighten you, that’s all.’
‘Won’t frighten me, Mis’ Bradley. Ah ain’t an ignorant pusson. No, sir! Walk under a ladder don’t frighten me, break my mirror, see de moon t’rough a window, spill de salt — don’t turn a single har!’
‘Well, that seems very satisfactory. This noise sounds rather like a lot of whistling. It is very difficult to tell where it comes from.’
‘Dat’s all right wid me, Mis’ Bradley. Ah reckon ain’t no ghosts nor devils neither, care to meet you face to face!’
With this dubious compliment and a happy chuckle, she went downstairs to release the Cambridge maid and send her up to Mrs Bradley for her fare.
It was at about half past nine that the police arrived at College. They came in by way of the gate near the Chief Engineer’s house, and obtained the information they wanted from his wife, who was washing up after breakfast.
They went over to the main College building, and interviewed the secretary. She went in to the Principal.
‘The police are outside, Miss du Mugne,’ she said. ‘There has been an accident — drowning — the river — and they seem to think that the woman is one of the College servants.’
‘I’d better see them,’ said Miss du Mugne. ‘You might go through the rest of these, and you might let Mr Carter know that I can’t ask the students to do Play-Centre activities during School Practice.’
‘Very well, Miss du Mugne. Will you have the inspector in here?’
‘Yes, in here.’
The inspector came straight to the point in a hearty manner which disconcerted Miss du Mugne considerably. She felt that she was being invited to confess all.
‘I am Inspector Bingham, of the County Police, madam. We were given information of a body in the river, and we dragged it out this morning at half past eight. I can depend on you to see this goes no further, madam, but it looks like — well, not an accident. I can’t go into details, as you will appreciate. Now from letters in a waterproof packet found on the body, it seems that the woman had some connexion with this College. The letters are all addressed to the same party, Mrs Castle, Athelstan Hall, Cartaret College. Would the name convey anything to you?’
‘No, but I can have you directed to Athelstan Hall, which is one of the hostels for students, and you can pursue your inquiries there, inspector. It sounds like one of the College servants, but each Hall is a self-contained unit, and the servants are the business of the Warden-in-charge.’
‘Thank you, madam.’ He rose as Miss du Mugne rang the bell.
‘Get someone to take the inspector over to Athelstan Hall, Miss Rosewell, please.’
Miss Rosewell, whose neat, adult appearance and sophisticated, finished manner concealed the average share of childish curiosity, took him herself, and adroitly learned the facts which he had just committed to the Principal’s guardianship. As all the newspapers would have them in the morning, this signified very little.
The sight of Lulu’s black face and happy grin seemed to surprise the inspector, but, reassured by his companion’s unperturbed explanation of his business, he took off his hat, and, carefully wiping his boots, followed her into the hall, where both females immediately deserted him, Lulu to find Mrs Bradley, the secretary to return to College.