The School of English Murder (26 page)

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Authors: Ruth Dudley Edwards

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BOOK: The School of English Murder
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By the time Amiss had finished his expurgated account, they had finished the champagne and were half-way through the artichoke soup. ‘Funny those policemen going all that way to Marriners,’ said Rich. ‘I really can’t see what Ahmed’s death has to do with poor Ned’s. Or do they think there is a link?’

‘They don’t take me into their confidence. This soup is absolutely superb, Rich.’

‘I’m so glad. I won’t offer you any more, because I expect the soufflé to be ready and we must eat it straightaway.’ For a few minutes there was silence as he fussed around a little. ‘Pour some more Chablis, dear boy, if you’re ready.’

Amiss watched admiringly as a perfect soufflé was placed in the centre of the table. ‘Please help yourself, Bob.’

They chatted for a while in a desultory fashion, both of them being primarily concerned to do justice to the meal. The soufflé was followed by a medium-rare Chateaubriand accompanied by a half-bottle of Château-Latour. ‘I have to say,’ said Amiss, as with regret he finished the last morsel, ‘that I’ve eaten some superb meals since I started working with you, but this is the best yet.’

‘I’m so pleased, Bob. It’s just a small thank you for your great kindness to me when Ned died. Now have some crème caramel and then we’ll take our coffee inside to join Plutarch.’

Amiss was suspended in such a state of well-being after lunch that it took him a few minutes to stop thinking dreamily about food and drink and how nice a nap would be and start looking for opportunities to ask some pertinent questions. He moved in obliquely. ‘By the way, Rich, who have you got lined up for me next week?’

‘The same as before, Bob.’

‘You don’t mean Galina’s still here? I thought she was due to leave last week.’

Rich chuckled. ‘Sorry, old man. Though the good news is that she seems to be struck on someone in Gavs’s group. You might have an easy time.’

‘So it’s Fabrice, Galina, Gunther and Simone again, is that it?’

‘Possibly someone new in place of Fabrice. She’s still pretty shirty with him.’

‘I should think she’s still pretty shirty with me.’

‘You’re forgiven because of what happened last week. She’s dying to hear the details.’

‘No picnic today, then?’

‘Not for the want of trying on her side. The wretched woman is insatiable. But I got out of it by insisting it would be offensive to Ahmed’s memory.’

Amiss laughed: he picked up his port and took an appreciative sniff. ‘The picnics seem like a lot of trouble. Do you have them often?’ He tried to sound only half-interested. Rich shook his head. ‘Maybe every eight weeks or so.’

‘Aren’t you at all worried about being shopped for providing drugs?’

‘You mean someone telling the police. Who would? Any student would land not just the school but several other students in trouble. They’d be unlikely to do that to rich and influential people.’

‘Staff?’

‘The school would be closed down and they’d lose their jobs.’

‘I suppose it’s pretty watertight. Did Ned mind?’

‘Good Lord, Ned didn’t know. He wouldn’t have been happy with any infringements of the law. Me, I don’t see any harm in what we do. I only ever provide hash or coke, and I’d never offer them to people who weren’t used to them. It’s like the sex. I don’t see anything wrong with a bit of depravity as long as no one gets hurt. I’d never have anything to do with corrupting the innocent.’

‘Do the students ever want you to go further than you do?’

‘Bless you, of course. We get the occasional real degenerate, looking for kids and that sort of thing. Someone who’s picked up the wrong idea about our little operation. And I get some wanting to get us involved in drug smuggling. We’d be a very good front, with all that coming and going. There’s one chap’s been after me for ages. But I’ve been very firm. I won’t tolerate anything I call wrong-doing.’

Amiss took a considering sip and lit a cigarette. ‘Don’t any of these people ever get, well, heavy?’

‘Not really. Well, occasionally. But I’ve never had any real trouble. Always call their bluff. Finally told that nuisance of a Swede yesterday to get lost or I’d call the police. I would too. Since Ned died I’m not easily frightened.’

‘Has Ned’s death changed anything professionally, Rich?’

Rich shook his head. ‘Not really. I expect I’ll go on as before.’

‘On your own? Or will you get a new partner?’

‘Have you ambitions in that direction?’

Amiss laughed. ‘No. I enjoy the job but I don’t see myself making a career of it. But I thought maybe one of the others?’

‘I wouldn’t want to be in partnership with anyone who wasn’t simpatico. Frankly, and I probably shouldn’t tell you this, Cath wants half the business and I don’t want to sell to her. I’ve always put her off in the past by pleading Ned. I don’t know quite what to say now.’

‘You don’t find her simpatico?’

‘Too cold. And greedy. That’s why I was wondering about you.’

‘You’d better just stall for the moment. She must realise that you shouldn’t be making decisions while you’re still in a state of shock over Ned.’

‘I don’t think Cath understands that kind of thing.’ The phone began to ring. ‘That may be her. She’s been at me to have a meeting this afternoon.’

‘Don’t say no on my account. I’m leaving in a couple of minutes. Got to see a friend at four.’

Rich picked up the mobile phone beside his chair. ‘Hello, Rich Rogers… Hello, Cath… Not really. I’ve work to do at the school this afternoon… Oh, you will?’ He raised his eyes to heaven. ‘Oh, well, I suppose in that case, yes… say about five. But only a few minutes, please. I really am very busy… Right, bye.’ He jabbed at the off-switch. ‘See what I mean.’

‘She’s certainly persistent.’

‘And the more persistent she is, the less likely I am to want her as a partner.’

‘Ten to one the drug baron’s our Sven,’ said Amiss to Milton from a call-box at Knightsbridge tube station. ‘Two hypotheses. First is that Rich murdered Ned in order to inherit his cat. Second is that Cath murdered Ned so as to leave a vacancy for a partner.’

‘But she couldn’t have put the alcohol in his drink.’

‘Maybe she hired Ahmed to do it. Or Sven did.’

‘It’s an extraordinarily roundabout route. Why not invest in a different business?’

‘Christ, I don’t know. You know as much as I do. Maybe he’s stubborn. Oh, yes. Wally. Rich was a little vague about picnics, but I gather he usually has them at about two-monthly intervals, so that would fit. I suppose it’s just possible Wally stumbled on a picnic. Quite certainly he wouldn’t have been invited.’

‘I’ll brood on that. What are you doing now?’

‘Meeting Ellis to play squash. He’ll win of course — not being full of rich food and half-drunk.’

‘And then?’

‘Dropping by the school at Rich’s request to interrupt him and Cath. Then I’m going on to Ellis’s for an early supper. Or in my case a glass of water. He needs company at the moment.’

‘I know. Good luck with the hand-holding. I’ll call you there later and we’ll talk about how to approach Cath.’

‘Good luck with the cogitating.’

‘I don’t intend to do much of that. I’m off duty. Bye.’

Indeed Milton was fast asleep over the newspapers when the telephone rang with news of more death.

34

«
^
»

‘What’s the urgency, Cath?’

‘I want my future settled. I’ve been hanging on for ages, hoping to be able to get a stake in the business. I enjoy this job, but I don’t want to go on as an employee. I’m ambitious. What’s wrong with that?’

‘I’ve promised you that if I decide to sell a piece of the partnership, I’ll give the teachers a chance of buying in.’

‘But Gavs doesn’t want to and there isn’t anyone else.’

‘There’s Bob.’

Cath’s control held, but barely. ‘You can’t seriously mean that. He hasn’t been in the school five minutes. I think you’re treating me in a very cavalier fashion, Rich, if you’ll forgive me saying so.’

‘I feel the boot is on the other foot, my dear. You don’t seem to understand that I’m still shocked and grieved at Ned’s death. I don’t want to make any decisions at present. I’ll let you know when or if I do.’

‘But you always used to say that the only reason for not opening up the partnership was that it would be unfair to Ned.’

‘You took me very literally, Cath. Did it never occur to you that I might be using dear old Ned as an excuse?’

‘No, it didn’t.’ She gave a bitter laugh.

There was a long silence. Then Rich summoned up his courage.

‘Look, Cath. I promise you I’ll think about it seriously as soon as I’m feeling better. Now please excuse me? I’ve got some more paperwork to do, and then I’m going home to look after my sick cat.’

‘I thought it was dead,’ said Cath absently.

‘No, she’s recovered.’

‘Oh, good. All right, Rich. If you don’t mind, I’ll make a phone call or two from the lounge before I go.’

‘Of course. See you tomorrow.’

‘Yeah. Bye.’

‘It’s no good. You’ll have to think of another angle. Or find another business.’

Dispiritedly, as the angry voice accused her of not having tried hard enough, Cath turned in her chair and fixed her eyes on the Monet reproduction beside the door. She was thus perfectly placed to see squarely the grotesque figure that burst into the lounge and crashed something heavy on to her skull. She had time for only a gasp of terror before the second blow cast her into merciful unconsciousness. It was the sixth blow that killed her.

It was five forty-seven when Amiss found the two bodies. Retching from the sight of Cath’s shattered head, he lurched to Rich’s side and realised with a sob of gratitude that he was breathing and appeared uninjured.

He ran to the office telephone and managed to speak to Milton before staggering into the washroom to vomit. As he emerged five minutes later, uniformed police were pouring through the front door and Rich was beginning to move. By the time Milton arrived, Rich had been moved to the nearest classroom, where Amiss was ministering to him with tea and sympathy. Milton called him out into the hallway where he was issuing general instructions.

‘You get on with the forensic boys, Sammy,’ said Milton to Inspector Pike. ‘Get someone talking to the neighbours and get one of your lot to keep trying Ellis Pooley at home. Tell him to come immediately. Robert, I’m going to tell Rogers I’ve sent you home, but I want you to stay in the office. Sammy, make sure no one tells Rogers Robert’s still on the premises.’

‘Understood, sir,’ said Pike, a long-time fan of Milton, encourager of Pooley and friendly acquaintance of Amiss. Amiss, recognising from Milton’s tone that there was no point in arguing, retired despondently to his appointed quarters.

‘All I know,’ said Rich to Milton, ‘is that we finished talking about five fifteen. She said she had a few phone calls to make in the lounge. About a quarter of an hour later I packed up ready to go home, looking into the lounge to see if she was still there, and there she was with her head staved in and all that blood splashed round. I was terrified, I can tell you. I don’t know if it was horror or fear that made me faint. Next thing I knew, your chaps were all around.’

‘Are you suggesting that Miss Taylor let the murderer in?’

‘She didn’t need to. The front door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have turned the handle and walked in.’

‘But you heard nothing?’

‘Nothing. The office door was closed and it’s a longish way from the lounge.’

Milton went over and over the ground with him without getting very far. Rich maintained that they had been having a friendly discussion, albeit with a slight difference of opinion, about whether he would offer her a partnership. ‘But if anyone had a grievance it was her, not me, Superintendent. I wasn’t prepared to give her what she wanted, at least not now.’

When Pooley arrived, Milton was talking to Amiss in the office, darting in and out when called on by Pike. ‘The problem is simple,’ he explained. ‘Rogers says it must have been done by someone walking in from the street. Evidence in favour of that is that there is no blood on him and we can’t find a likely weapon. Evidence against is that the next-door couple were working in their garden, saw Rich and Cath come in and swear no one else did. I discount the faint — easily put on for Robert’s benefit.’

‘And could no one have got in or out the back way?’ asked Pooley.

‘Both the back door and the back gate are heavily bolted.’

‘You’d think if Rich had done it he’d have faked a back exit for the mythical assailant,’ said Amiss hopefully.

‘He couldn’t. There was a party going on in the back garden of the house on the other side and the door is visible from their terrace because of the slope in the gardens.’

‘It’s very hard to imagine we’ve got another mystery murderer coming in out of nowhere,’ said Amiss reluctantly.

‘Sven?’ asked Pooley.

‘Because he was cross with her for not becoming a partner? Forget it.’

‘Could Rogers conceivably have done it without getting his clothes spattered with blood?’ asked Pooley.

‘Almost certainly not.’

Pike looked in and called Milton outside for a consultation with the fingerprint teams. Amiss and Pooley sat thinking until he returned.

‘A waterproof cape?’ asked Amiss.

‘Where is it?’

Amiss shrugged.

‘He could have done it naked,’ said Pooley.

‘I thought of that one, Ellis. And it’s just possible. If he murdered her within, say, fifteen minutes of her arrival, he’d have had time to strip, kill her, mop himself down, and even dry his hair with the hair dryer.’

‘And do what with the blunt instrument?’

‘That’s our real problem. We’ve searched the house and garden and anywhere within throwing distance of the windows three times to date, and can’t find anything remotely suitable.’

‘Hidden safes?’

‘Rich says there’s only one and we’ve looked in that: it contains petty cash and a tiny amount of cocaine and marijuana.’

‘Gavs might know if there’s another.’

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