‘So it wasn’t Pythias who sent the cheques to the bank,’ said Detective-Sergeant Bennett.
‘Unless he got somebody else to address the envelope,’ said Routh. ‘I think it’s time we dropped this case. If Ronsonby won’t charge Pythias with the theft of the money and then bunking off with it, there’s really nothing we can do.’
7
A Question of Water-Lilies
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Except for the continued absence of Mr Pythias, the Easter term settled into its usual routine. The junior geography master became the senior geography master and received the extra allowance attached to this improvement in his status and a ‘supply’ teacher was appointed to cover the vacant position.
The cheques had been paid into the school-journey fund and it was generally assumed that they had been sent to the bank by Mr Pythias and that somebody else had addressed the envelope for him. Mr Ronsonby, with his wife’s grudging agreement, had subscribed the rest of the money and had told nobody else about this. He was convinced at last that all his confidence in Mr Pythias had been misplaced and he said as much to Mr Burke.
‘Well, everybody here is of the same opinion,’ said Burke. ‘Is the school journey still on?’
‘Yes, of course it is.’
‘Ah!’ said Mr Burke, guessing the truth but thinking it better not to say so, since he had no intention of offering to share in the payment to the travel agents. ‘Oh, well, before anything else comes about, I suppose we have to plan the official opening.’
‘Yes. I shall call a staff meeting on Friday and see what suggestions are put forward. Have you yourself anything in mind?’
‘I suppose we shall include the things we show the parents on open days, but the governors will expect a little more than that. It’s a nuisance it has to come in the summer term. I don’t want the sixth too much involved. GCE begins immediately after Whitsun.’
‘Yes. Still, they are our top boys and must make a showing. I shall persuade the governors to fix a date for the opening as early in next term as possible and then the GCE candidates will have to wire in and memorise and revise for all they’re worth. The challenge may stimulate them.’
‘One can only hope so,’ said Mr Burke. ‘I don’t think we’ve ever had such a weak set of candidates for years. And all this picking and choosing of subjects! Give me the old Matric in which you had to pass in five compulsory papers.’
‘It was hard on those who had no aptitude for maths or science.’
‘I believe in the good all-rounder. Balance is everything. What’s the use of a good bowler if he’s got butter- fingers in the field and gets out first ball when it’s only a long hop or a full toss?’
‘We could do with Pythias,’ said the headmaster, whose summer game was tennis, not cricket. ‘He used to get some very advanced work from his geography classes, something which made an excellent and most impressive display. The man was an artist, nothing less. Oh, well, he’s far away by now and has probably changed his name.’
‘Detective-Inspector Routh has just come in. Are you free?’ asked Margaret Wirrell, coming in.
“I’ll go,’ said Burke.
‘I was just saying to Burke that Pythias has probably taken another name,’ said Mr Ronsonby when Routh was shown in.
‘Another name, sir?’
‘Oh,’ said Mr Ronsonby, trying to speak airily, ‘you know what a hot-bed his native part of the world has always been. Pythias was at college over here and, except for his name, nobody would know that he wasn’t an Englishman, but who knows what affiliations he may have had with his own country? I have never thought Pythias was a likely surname, but he has never offered any other.’
‘I think, sir, you had better forget those sort of doubts. A man is entitled to call himself what he likes so long as he has no criminal intentions in so doing. I agree that, if Mr Pythias has absconded with the money, he may well have changed his name, but I see no reason why we should assume his guilt until we get more evidence of it than we’ve got at present. I am afraid, sir, the chances are that Mr Pythias is dead.’
‘I would sooner believe that Pythias is dead than that he has absconded with what, in these times, is a relatively small sum of money,’ said Mr Ronsonby, ‘but what else can I believe? If he is dead we should have heard by now, surely?’
‘Well, I’ve done my best and so, by all accounts, have you, sir, to trace him to Springdale. We’ve both failed, but there might be some substance in your idea that, if he has absconded, he has also changed his name. It would also mean that, if he was staying with friends there, they also have English names, for I could find no Greek ones in Springdale. I suppose you don’t feel able to lodge a formal complaint against him for absconding with the money? We can’t go any further unless you do, although I may tell you that the case interests me. My view is that sooner or later we’re going to find ourselves with a murder enquiry.’
‘Murder? Good gracious me, Inspector! Think what that would do to my school! You know, Inspector, further to what I could see you regarded as my wild and fanciful notion that Pythias may have mixed himself up in Greek politics, perhaps those of a subversive nature, I am wondering whether he could have been kidnapped when he left Mrs Buxton’s house on that Friday night and spirited away. He could be in a Greek prison by now. Does Buxton travel with a mate? It would take two of them to kidnap a grown man.’
‘Oh, yes, sir. It needs two of them to load up and unload the furniture van. I’ve seen the mate and he endorses everything Buxton says about the time they knocked off on that Friday. I don’t think we shall get any further with the Buxtons.’
‘Well,’ said Mr Ronsonby, ‘I’m beginning to feel sure in my own mind that Mr Pythias has been caught up in
