An Advancement of Learning (11 page)

"You've been very helpful,' he said to Grummitt as they walked out together through the reception area.

"Sorry I couldn't be more useful,' said Grummitt. ''s it all about?

Or must I just watch the papers?" "I wish I knew what it was all about,' said Pascoe. I'll watch the papers with you."

They passed the Giant Super-Size Unrepeatable Offer. Grummitt nudged him.

"No wonder they built Jumbo jets, eh?' he said.

"You can say that again,' said Pascoe lasciviously.

Grummitt with a look of polite resignation began to say it again.

Superintendent Dalziel had breakfasted early and well. Unless the college domestic staff were putting on a special performance for his benefit, they did themselves rather well here, he thought. As he was still segregated from the communal breakfasters in the dining-hall, he had no chance to make comparisons. And, a cause of relief, no need to make conversations.

Perhaps this was the reason why his wife had left him. Often breakfast was the only waking period they spent together during the whole day, and try as he might (which hadn't been very hard) he could not force himself to be sociable.

Unwilling to cause offence by leaving anything (there was another school of working class gentility which believed that something always should be left, but not in his family, thank Heaven!) he took the last slice of toast from the rack, spread the remaining butter on it to a thickness of about a quarter-inch, scraped his knife round the sides of the cut-glass marmalade dish, and took two thirds of the resulting confection into his mouth at one bite.

The door opened and the pretty young girl in the blue nylon overall entered. She seemed to have been told by the powers that were in the kitchen to look after his needs. Dalziel approved. Paternally, of course, he assured himself, dismissing a mental image of himself slowly unbuttoning the overall which in the height of summer was probably over very little. His fingers compensated by unbuttoning his waistcoat, leaving dabs of butter on the charcoal grey cloth.

"Are you finished, sir?' she asked.

He swallowed mightily.

"I think I am, my dear. My compliments to whoever prepared it."

She began to gather together the dishes.

"Tell me,' he said, ''s your name?" "Elizabeth,' she said. ' Andrews."

"Well, Elizabeth, have you been here long?" "Over a year,' she said.

"Do you like it?" "It's all right,' she said.

"It'll fill in the time till you find a lad and get married, eh?' said Dalziel jovially. If they're going to regard you as a bloody uncle, you might as well act like a bloody uncle, he thought.

The girl didn't reply. Slightly flushed, she swiftly piled the remaining dishes on her tray and moved gracefully out of the room.

Even in his faint surprise, Dalziel was able to admire her figure in retreat, which was more than he could do for the advancing form of Detective-Inspector Kent which appeared through the door before the girl could close it.

"Lovely morning, sir,' said Kent happily, peering through the window at the sun-drenched garden, whose border and rockeries were ablaze with colour. The winds of the previous day had quite abated and only the canvas cover over the hole left by the base of Miss. Girling's statue obtruded into the pastoral idyll which lay without.

Had things gone according to Landor's plans, the garden would by now have been trenched and torn by foundations for the new laboratory.

Dalziel had asked for the work to be postponed. He was almost certain now that nothing new could be learned from an examination of the earth.

But you never knew - and in any case it was much pleasanter to sit here undisturbed by the unbeautiful cacophony of the building trade.

"Sergeant Pascoe not here?' asked Kent.

"No,' said Dalziel. ''s off doing some work."

There was little subtlety in his stresses, but Kent took it in his stride.

"Just thought I'd call in before going up to the clubhouse,' he said.

"I've brought in the medical report on the girl.1

"Stick it on the desk,' said Dalziel. ' it confirm what the doctor said on the spot?"

"Yes. Not nice. Suffocated in the sand,' said Kent. ' throat and nostrils were absolutely blocked up with it."

"Anything strike you?"

"Not really. Just the obvious. Between 10 p.m. and 3 a.m. And no sexual assault. That's a bit odd."

"Why?"

"Well, in the circumstances. I mean, why take off her clothes?"

"Why, indeed? Well, you'd better get on with it. Though I doubt you'll find anything more up there. How's the questioning?"

The difficulty is finding anyone to question,' said Kent. ''s not exactly overcrowded out there. By the by, talking of finding, is there anything on that bra?" "What? Oh that. Yes,' said Dalziel, annoyed at having to be asked. ''re looking for a girl with a 34 inch bust whose initials might be F or E, N or A. They had been marked, but many washes ago. It's probably nothing to do with this anyway. It must be a popular spot in those dunes and a few articles of clothing are bound to go adrift." "Ay,' said Kent gloomily. ' found any number of old French letters.

But a bra's a bit different, isn't it? And if it had the owner's initials on, that must have been for a reason. Like identification in communal living, I mean. Like here."

"We'll make a detective out of you yet,' said Dalziel only half sarcastically. ' a look at the student list. See if any of the initials fit."

"OK, sir,' said Kent. ', I'm off. Who's for golf, eh?"

He went out of the door making minute swinging motions of the arm and clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

Dalziel turned to the desk and began organizing his day's business.

Already he had accumulated an amazing amount of paper in the form of reports, statements, directives, instructions etc., etc., and the two drawers vacated for him by Landor in the filing cabinet were quite full.

The principal had by no means completed his removals to the new administration centre and even Dalziel felt reluctant to urge him to get a move on.

He called in a uniformed constable to help sort things out and to answer the telephone. He was beginning to feel the irritation which always grew on him if he found himself cooped up unproductively for no matter how short a length of time.

It came as a relief when Simeon Landor arrived in midmorning and reminded him about the staff meeting.

"You said you'd come and say a few words,' he said apologetically. ' just want to put everyone formally in the picture, that's all. It's just ten minutes during coffee break so that everyone can attend without cutting lectures. If you're too busy, please say so, and I'll ... " "Not at all,' said Dalziel expansively. I'll be glad of the chance to meet them all collectively. After all, you're the people who must know what goes on round here. You've a right to all the information we have."

He gave a few quick instructions to the constable, then left with Landor, enjoying the feel of the sun on his balding pate as they made their way towards the building which housed the Senior Common Room.

Conversation stopped for a moment as Landor ushered him into the crowded room, but almost immediately some of the more ancient inmates, the Misses Scotby and Disney much in evidence, demonstrated their good breeding by continuing their conversations at a higher pitch than before and looking fixedly away from Dalziel.

Landor supplied him with a cup of coffee and led him to a chair behind a table at the far end of the room.

"May we begin?' he said in a voice so conversational that Dalziel imagined he was being addressed directly despite the fact that Landor had half-turned his back on him. But he quickly realized that the principal was addressing his staff. Evidently in these circles you didn't shout or ring a bell to bring a meeting to order, you merely spoke to those nearest you and by some aural osmosis the message eventually reached the other end of the room.

Thank you,' said Landor. ' this is not a formal meeting so there will be no minutes either read, or taken. But as far as possible I suggest we stick to our usual modes of procedure. Most of you will know, by sight at least, Superintendent Dalziel. He has kindly agreed to come along today to put us in the picture, as it were. Everyone here will be aware of the double set of tragic circumstances which have necessitated his presence in the college. However, it is often difficult to separate truth from rumour and the better informed we are, the better informed the student body will be. Superintendent Dalziel."

Dalziel stood up heavily and viewed his audience. Up until this moment he had had no real idea of what he was going to say. Now, faced by this polite blank of faces, he reacted to their common denominator (bloody clever bastards, all of ', he thought mockingly) by selecting a role Pascoe would have recognized with an inward groan. The blunt, unsubtle policeman.

"I'll be brief,' he said. ' things first. The remains found in the college garden on Wednesday have been identified as those of Miss. Girling, the former principal of this college. We are treating it as a case of murder." He paused. One or two shifted slightly in their chairs. Miss. Disney's face was a mask of stoically-borne grief.

"Yesterday, Thursday, the naked body of a student, Anita Sewell, was found in the dunes by the golf course. She had died of asphyxiation as a result of having her face forced down into the sand some time late on Wednesday night or early Thursday morning. She had not been sexually assaulted. This too we are treating as murder." He paused again. Now there was a general shifting of position. Several cigarettes were lit. Halfdane leaned over to Henry Saltecombe and said something. The older man nodded vigorously. A man recognized from Pascoe's description as George Dunbar was smiling faintly with the complacent look of one to whom this was all very old stuff. He couldn't spot Fallowfield at all, but the pretty woman sitting between Marion Cargo and Halfdane (triumphantly?) was possibly Pascoe's old mate.

Miss. Disney opened her mouth to speak. He let the first syllable get out, then continued, overriding her without a glance in her direction.

"I've told you nothing you won't read in the newspapers. Probably have read already. But it's often useful to have it from the horse's mouth, so to speak."

A slight ripple of laughter.

"You're the people who ought to know. You're the ones who can reassure the students here."

"You haven't really given us much to reassure them with, Superintendent.' It was Halfdane. ' don't you propose to talk to them direct? After all, they're just as important as we in this institution.

Perhaps more so."

A couple of mutters of agreement. More indignant snorts.

"I can't talk to them all at once. Not without turning it into a rally.

In any case, you're the ones who are paid to talk to these youngsters.

You're their teachers."

Halfdane started up again indignantly, but Dunbar beat him to it.

Tell me, when did you find out it was Miss. Girling in the garden?" This was confirmed on Wednesday evening,' said Dalziel. '?"

"I just wondered how half the college seemed to have this information on Wednesday afternoon?"

Dalziel nodded for the want of anything else to do.

"You mean, staff?"

"I mean students."

There was a confirmatory murmur from half a dozen places in the room.

"You surprise me,' said Dalziel. ' Miss. Girling died nearly six years ago, I should have thought it unlikely that any student could have known anything about it."

The implications of the stress were caught immediately, but Dalziel was not impressed by this display of sharpness of wit. Anyone with half a mind must have realized days earlier that he'd be interested in the old-established members of staff.

Landor obviously decided he must take back control of the meeting.

"Thank you, Superintendent. I know we will all assist you in every way we can. What is important I think is that we carry on as normal, and I know that you will be eager to assist us in this." "Of course,' said Dalziel, still standing. ' our work comes first.

Let's be clear about that. Disruption of your work is unfortunate.

Disruption of mine amounts to obstruction of the law."

Again the raised eyebrows bit, the exchange of glances, the pursing of lips. Henry Saltecombe stood up waving his pipe apologetically, scattering warm embers over his neighbours.

"One question,' he said. ' you think these two dreadful businesses are connected in any way? Or is it merely some terrible coincidence?" Pascoe had asked this. Dalziel wondered how he was getting on at the airport. Even if he got nowhere, he'd get there thoroughly. He would probably have made a damn sight better job of this side of the business as well. He might have some understanding of these people. Dalziel tried not to despise them because that could easily lead to underestimation of ability (criminal, of course), and misinterpretation of motive. But six months' holiday a year and a working life centred on reading books ... I The scientists he could go along with to some extent, but surely someone, some day, was going to sort out the rest!

"As a policeman, I distrust coincidence,' he replied.

"And I, as a historian,' said Saltecombe. Those about him smiled. He must have made a funny, thought Dalziel.

The woman who might be Pascoe's friend now rose with a suddenness that suggested she had been hurled by a spring through a stage trapdoor.

"What I'd like to know is how we're expected to maintain hard fought-for personal relationships with our students in an allegedly democratic institution when we permit the civil authorities to so blatantly take control of our decision-making. I would remind the principal that his loyalties ought to be to the college and its members,' she rattled out at a great rate, then sat down as abruptly as she had risen.

Miss. Disney swelled visibly, as though someone was pumping air into her body through some inimaginable orifice, but she took too long about it and it was Miss. Scotby who stood up, arrow-straight, and spoke first.

"I would suggest that Miss. Soper thinks less about personal relationships and more about pastoral responsibilities."