Gaudy Night (14 page)

“The Warden’s secretary—Miss Parsons—lives at the Warden’s Lodgings. The Bursar’s and the Treasurer’s secretaries both live out, so they can be crossed off.”

“Miss Parsons been here long?”

“Four years.”

Harriet noted down the names of Mrs. Goodwin and Miss Parsons.

“I think,” she said, “for Mrs. Goodwin’s own sake we’d better have a second check on those newspapers. Not that it really matters; because, if the poison-pen knows that the papers are being checked, she won’t use those papers. And I suppose she must know, because of the care taken to collect them.”

“Very likely. That’s just the trouble, isn’t it?”

“How about people’s private newspapers?”

“Well, naturally, we couldn’t check them. We’ve kept an eye on the waste-paper baskets as well as we can. Nothing is ever destroyed, you know. It’s all thriftily collected in sacks and sent to the paper-makers or whoever it is that gives pence for old papers. The worthy Padgett is instructed to examine the sacks—but it’s a terrific job. And then, of course, since there are fires in all the rooms, why
should
anybody leave evidence in the W.P.B.?”

“How about the gowns that were burnt in the quad? That must have taken some doing. Surely more than one person would have been needed to work that.”

“We don’t know whether that was part of the same business or not. About ten or a dozen people had left their gowns in various places—as they do, you know—before Sunday supper. Some were in the Queen Elizabeth portico and some at the foot of the Hall stairs and so on. People bring them over and dump them, ready for evening Chapel.” (Harriet nodded; Sunday evening Chapel was held at a quarter to eight and was compulsory; being also a kind of College Meeting for the giving-out of notices.) “Well, when the bell started, these people couldn’t find their gowns and so couldn’t go in to Chapel. Everybody thought it was just a rag. But in the middle of the night somebody saw a blaze in the quad, and it turned out to be a merry little bonfire of bombazine. The gowns had all been soaked in petrol and they went up beautifully.”

“Where did the petrol come from?”

“It was a can Mullins keeps for his motor-cycle. You remember Mullins—the Jowett Lodge porter. His machine lies in a little outhouse in the Lodge garden. He didn’t lock it up—why should he? He does now, but that doesn’t help. Anybody could have gone and fetched it. He and his wife heard nothing, having retired to their virtuous rest. The bonfire happened bang in the middle of the Old Quad and burnt a nasty patch in the turf. Lots of people rushed out when the flare went up, and whoever did it probably mingled with the crowd. The victims were four M.A. gowns, two scholars’ gowns and the rest commoners’ gowns; but I don’t suppose there was any selection; they just happened to be lying about.”

“I wonder where they were put in the interval between supper and the bonfire. Anybody carrying a whole bunch of gowns round College would be a bit conspicuous.”

“No; it was at the end of November, and it would be pretty dark. They could easily have been bundled into a lecture room to be left till called for. There wasn’t a proper organised search over College, you see. The poor victims who were left gownless thought somebody was having a joke; they were very angry, but not very efficient. Most of them rushed round to accuse their friends.”

“Yes; I don’t suppose we can get much out of that episode at this time of day. Well—I suppose I’d better go and wash-and-brush-up for Hall.”

Hall was an embarrassed meal at the High Table. The conversation was valiantly kept to matters of academic and world interest. The undergraduates babbled noisily and cheerfully; the shadow that rested upon the college did not seem to have affected their spirits. Harriet’s eye roamed over them.

“Is that Miss Cattermole at the table on the right? In a green frock, with a badly made-up face?”

“That’s the young lady,” replied the Dean. “How did you know?”

“I. remember seeing her at Gaudy. Where is the all-conquering Miss Flaxman?”

“I don’t see her. She may not be dining in Hall. Lots of them prefer to boil an egg in their rooms, so as to avoid the bother of changing. Slack little beasts. And that’s Miss Hudson, in a red jumper, at the middle table. Black hair and horn rims.”

“She looks quite normal.”

“So far as I know, she is. So far as I know, we all are.”

“I suppose,” said Miss Pyke, who had overheard the last remark, “even murderers look much like other people. Miss Vane. Or do you hold any opinions about the theories put forward by Lombroso? I understand that they are now to a considerable extent exploded.”

Harriet was quite thankful to be allowed to discuss murderers.

After Hall, Harriet felt herself rather at a loose end. She felt she ought to be doing something or interviewing somebody; but it was hard to know where to begin. The Dean had announced that she would be busy with some lists, but would be open to receive visitors later on. Miss Burrows the Librarian was to he engaged in putting the final touches to the Library before the Chancellor’s visit; she had been carting and arranging books the greater part of the day and had roped in a small band of students to assist her with the shelving of them. Various other dons mentioned that they had work to do; Harriet thought they seemed a little shy of one another’s company.

Catching hold of the Bursar, Harriet asked whether it was possible to get hold of a plan of the College and a list of the various rooms and their occupants. Miss Stevens offered to supply the list and said she thought there was a plan in the Treasurer’s office. She took Harriet across into the New Quad to get these things.

“I hope,” said the Bursar, “You will not pay too much attention to that unfortunate remark of Miss Burrows’ about the scouts. Nothing would please me more, personally, than to transfer all the maids to the Scouts’ Wing out of reach of suspicion, if that were practicable; but there is no room for them there. Certainly I do not mind giving you the names of those who sleep in College, and I agree, certainly, that precautions should be taken. But to my mind, the episode of Miss Lydgate’s proofs definitely rules out the scouts. Very few of them would be likely to know or care anything about proof sheets; nor would the idea of mutilating manuscripts be likely to come into their heads. Vulgar letters—yes, possibly. But damaging those proofs was an educated person’s crime. Don’t you think so?”

“I’d better not say what I think,” said Harriet.

“No; quite right. But I can say what I think. I wouldn’t say it to anybody but you. Still, I do not like this haste to make scapegoats of the scouts.”

“The thing that seems so extraordinary,” said Harriet, “is that Miss Lydgate, of all people, should have been chosen as a victim. How could
anybody
—particularly one of her own colleagues—have any grudge against
her?
Doesn’t it look rather as though the culprit knew nothing about the value of the proofs, and was merely making a random gesture of defiance to the world in general?”

“That’s possible, certainly. I must say, Miss Vane, that your evidence today has made matters very complicated. I would rather suspect the scouts than the S.C.R., I admit; but when these hasty accusations are made by the last person known to have been in the same room with the manuscript I can only say that—well, that it appears to me injudicious.”

Harriet said nothing to this. The Bursar, apparently feeling that she had gone a little too far, added:

“I have no suspicions of anybody. All I say is, that statements ought not to be made without proof.”

Harriet agreed, and, after marking off the relevant names upon the Bursar’s list, went to find the Treasurer.

Miss Allison produced a plan of the College, and showed the positions of the rooms occupied by various people.

“I hope this means,” she said, “that you intend to undertake the investigation yourself. Not, I suppose, that we ought to ask you to spare the time for any such thing. But I do most strongly feel that the presence of paid detectives in this college would be
most
unpleasant, however discreet they might be. I have served the College for a considerable number of years and I have its interests very much at heart. You know how undesirable it is that any outsider should be brought into a matter of this kind.”

“It is, very,” said Harriet. “All the same, a spiteful or mentally deficient servant is a misfortune that might occur anywhere. Surely the important thing is to get to the bottom of the mystery as quickly as possible; and a trained detective or two would be very much more efficient than I should be.”

Miss Allison looked thoughtfully at her, and swayed her glasses to and fro slowly on their gold chain.

“I see you incline to the most comfortable theory. Probably we all do. But there is the other possibility. Mind you, I quite see that from your own point of view, you would not wish to take part in an exposure of a member of the Senior Common Room. But if it came to the point, I would put more faith in your tact than in that of an outside professional detective. And you start with a knowledge of the workings of the collegiate system, which is a great advantage.”

Harriet said that she thought she would know better what to suggest when she had made a preliminary review of all the circumstances.

“If,” said Miss Allison, you do undertake an inquiry, it is probably only fair to warn you that you may meet with some opposition. It has already been said—but perhaps I ought not to tell you this.”

“That is for you to judge.”

“It has already been said that the narrowing-down of the suspects within the limits mentioned at today’s meeting rests only upon your assertion. I refer, of course, to the two papers you found at the Gaudy.”

“I see. Am I supposed to have invented those?”

“I don’t think anybody would go as far as that. But you have said that you sometimes received similar letters on your own account. And the suggestion is that—”

“That if I found anything of the sort I must have brought it with me? That would be quite likely, only that the style of the things was so like the style of these others. However, I admit you have only my word for that.”

“
I’m
not doubting it for a moment. What is being said is that your experience in these affairs is—if anything—a disadvantage. Forgive me. That is not what
I
say.”

“That is the thing that made me very unwilling to have anything to do with the inquiry. It is absolutely true. I haven’t lived a perfectly blameless life, and you can’t get over it.”

“If you ask me,” said Miss Allison, “some people’s blameless lives are to blame for a good deal. I am not a fool, Miss Vane. No doubt my own life has been blameless as far as the more generous sins are concerned. But there are points upon which I should expect you to hold more balanced opinions than certain people here. I don’t think I need say more than that, need I?”

Harriet’s next visit was to Miss Lydgate; her excuse being to inquire what she should do with the mutilated proofs in her possession. She found the English Tutor patiently correcting a small pile of students’ essays.

“Come in, come in,” said Miss Lydgate, cheerfully. “I have nearly done with these. Oh, about my poor proofs? I’m afraid they’re not much use to me. They’re really quite undecipherable. I’m afraid the only thing is to do the whole thing again. The printers will be tearing their hair, poor souls. I shan’t have very much difficulty with the greater part of it, I hope. And I have the notes of the Introduction, so it isn’t as bad as it might have been. The worst loss is a number of manuscript footnotes and two manuscript appendices that I had to put in at the last moment to refute what seemed to me some very ill-considered statements in Mr. Elkbottom’s new book on
Modern Verse-Forms.
I stupidly wrote those in on the blank pages of the proofs and they are quite irrecoverable. I shall have to verify all the references again in Elkbottom. It’s so tiresome, especially as one is always so busy towards the end of term. But it’s all my own fault for not keeping a proper record of everything.”

“I wonder,” said Harriet, “if I could be of any help to you in getting the proofs put together. I’d gladly stay up for a week or so if it would do any good. I’m quite used to juggling with proof-sheets, and I think I can remember enough of my Schools work to be reasonably intelligent about the Anglo-Saxon and Early English.”

“That would be a tremendous help!” exclaimed Miss Lydgate, her face lighting up. “But wouldn’t it be trespassing far too much on your time?”

Harriet said, No; she was well ahead with her own work and would enjoy putting in a little time on
English Prosody.
It was in her mind that, if she really meant to pursue inquiries at Shrewsbury, Miss Lydgate’s proofs would offer a convenient excuse for her presence in College.

The suggestion was left there for the moment. As regards the author of the outrages. Miss Lydgate could make no suggestion; except that, whoever it was, the poor creature must be mentally afflicted.

As she left Miss Lydgate’s room, Harriet encountered Miss Hillyard, who was descending the staircase from her own abode.

“Well,” said Miss Hillyard, “how is the investigation progressing? But I ought not to ask that. You have contrived to cast the Apple of Discord among us with a vengeance. However, as you are so well accustomed to the receipt of anonymous communications, you are no doubt the fittest person to handle the situation.”

“In my case,” said Harriet, “I only got what was to some extent deserved. But this is a very different matter. It’s not the same problem at all. Miss Lydgate’s book could offend nobody.”

“Except some of the men whose theories she has attacked,” replied Miss Hillyard. “However, circumstances seem to exclude the male sex from the scope of the inquiry. Otherwise, this mass-attack on a woman’s college would suggest to me the usual masculine spite against educated women. But you, of course, would consider that ridiculous.”

“Not in the least. Plenty of men are very spiteful. But surely there are no men running about the college at night.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that” said Miss Hillyard, smiling sarcastically. “It is quite ridiculous for the Bursar to talk about locked gates. What is to prevent a man from concealing himself about the grounds before the gates are locked and escaping again when they are opened in the morning? Or climbing the walls, if it comes to that?”