No Winding-Sheet

‘Ring them and say we’ll settle with them before the end of the week. It will take me that time to arrange to pay them the money.’

Mr Burke, a black-haired, blue-eyed man with a chin as blue as close-shaving of his face could make it, presented himself and greeted the inspector as an old friend.

‘Rodney is a pushover for his A-level English,’ he said. ‘Maths less certain, but stands a fair chance if he’s lucky with the questions, I’m told.’

‘That’s very gratifying, sir, but I haven’t come up about Rodney. You will know, I’m sure, that there is some anxiety about the non-appearance of Mr Pythias this term.’

‘Lord, yes. Speculation is rife. All sorts of rumours are flying around.’

‘How do you mean, sir?’

‘I’ve heard all shades of opinion expressed, from murder with intent to rob down to (from a graceless lad in the fourth year whose form master repeated it in the staff-room) “The Old Python has done a bunk with the boodle.” ’

‘Could there be any substance in such an opinion, sir?’

‘From what I know of Pythias, there is not a miserable milligram of weight in it, and I cautioned the staff about retailing jokes of that kind. Still, there it is. These things are bound to be said when a man disappears without leaving any tracks and was carrying a considerable amount of ready cash. Some of the money was in the form of cheques, but quite a lot was in big coarse banknotes. I told Pythias at the time that, if only he’d mentioned the matter, I would have found somebody to take on his dinner duty or seen to it myself so that he could get to the bank that Friday morning, but he said he hadn’t thought of it and that the money would be put away safely.’

‘So he didn’t seem perturbed to have a large sum of money, some of it easily negotiable, in his charge?’

‘Lord, no. He said he had only got to bung it in a night safe as soon as he’d had his tea and I’m sure that’s what he intended to do. He said Mrs Buxton — that’s his landlady — didn’t like him to keep tea waiting, as she always cooked him a bit of fish on Friday evenings, so he would go home to tea and then park the cash.’

‘So you talked to him quite a bit, sir, on that breaking-up Friday afternoon?’

‘Only casually, during the afternoon break. There were the usual jokes from the others to the effect that he would be worth robbing, of course, but there was nothing in that.’

‘And he seemed perfectly normal, so far as you could judge?’

‘Oh, yes, absolutely normal. Just smiled at the jokes, that’s all.’

‘Was he popular with the boys, sir?’

‘Neither popular nor unpopular, like most of us. He was an experienced teacher and nobody took any liberties, but I don’t think the boys either liked or disliked him; they simply accepted him for what he was, a man capable of doing his job and getting them through their exams.’

‘And the staff, sir?’

‘Much the same. He had no close friends on the staff, but I’m sure he had never got up against anybody. He wasn’t the quarrelsome type.’

‘You wouldn’t know anything about the friends he proposed to visit for Christmas, sir?’

‘Not a thing. We’re a friendly, co-operative lot in the staffroom, but we know almost nothing of one another’s private lives. Wives turn up to the school play and on sports days and are introduced to the rest of the staff or not, as the case may be and as opportunity offers — which isn’t often, because we are all so busy on these occasions. I imagine it’s the same at most schools — friendly atmosphere in the staffroom, but little or no contact once we’re off the premises.’

‘And I have little opportunity, either,’ said the headmaster, ‘to meet the staff’s visitors. There are always the mayor and mayoress and, of course, the hordes of parents, who, like the poor in the Bible, are always with us, especially on these occasions.’

‘Well, if that’s all Mr Burke can tell us… ’ said the inspector.

‘Afraid it is,’ said Burke. ‘Anything more, Headmaster?’

‘Oh, no, no. Sorry to have interrupted your lesson.’ When Burke had gone, Mr Ronsonby said to the inspector that he hoped ‘this worrying business’ could be kept dark, at any rate for the time being, ‘There is no problem about the money,’ he said, ‘It will be made good. I hope, therefore, that it won’t be necessary to put emphasis on Pythias’s disappearance.’

‘You can rely upon our discretion, sir, but I can’t go bail for the press. Somebody will have leaked things to them, I’m afraid. There is bound to be speculation among your scholars, too, and that will soon reach the parents.’

‘Perhaps I can find a way of dealing with that situation. I will make an announcement at tomorrow’s assembly that Pythias is ill, but that I fully expect him to be back in school before the end of term. Surely we shall know something about him by then.’

‘It’s to be hoped so, sir. We shall do our best to trace his movements after he left his lodgings last December, but it may be a long job unless we strike lucky, especially as you want to avoid publicity as much as possible.’

‘Gone missing, with all that money on him?’ said the sergeant who had accompanied Routh. ‘Looks a pretty open case to me, sir, though we could hardly say so to the headmaster.’

‘I know, nor he to us. We couldn’t expect a headmaster to foul his own nest, but the man and the money have both disappeared and there’s been no report of any violence. I think you had better go round and lean on that landlady. She knows more than she’s said, I’ll be bound. There’s a husband. Find out where he was and what he was doing on that Friday night. His wife told me he works as a van man for Foster’s the furniture removers. Later on we may have to see what they’ve got to say about him.’

‘There were some cheques as well as money, it seems, sir. Wonder whether they were made out to the tour people or to Pythias himself?’