Having pressed the two sets of switches, each set just inside one of the two swing doors which led from the secretary’s corridor into the hall, he crossed the hall again and stepped out into the quad.
So far as he could see, nothing in it had been altered. While construction work was still going on, it remained a large rectangle of rough earth with the heaps of debris from the demolished farm building still rendering it the eyesore of which the headmaster had complained, and still in the middle of it was the hole in which, presumably, the debris would one day be buried. At one side of the hole there was the heap of dirt and gravel which had been excavated.
Picking his way, the caretaker went over to the hole. It was a gaping, untidy affair with slightly sloping sides down which the winter rain had seeped to leave a messy little quagmire at the bottom.
Sparshott switched on his powerful torch and peered down into the hole. A few bits of brick and concrete appeared to have been thrown in, but whether by the workmen or by the recent intruders it was not possible to say. Otherwise, nothing seemed to have been touched. Sparshott wondered whether his appearance on the scene had interrupted nefarious doings, but, short of the visitors having intended to heave chunks of brick at the library, the hall or the corridor windows, it was difficult to determine any possible reason they could have had for choosing to invade the quad.
Puzzled and somewhat worried, Sparshott returned to the hall, closed the doors which opened on to the quad, crossed the floor, switched off the lights and closed the swing doors to the corridor. Here he switched on his torch again, tested the lock on the secretary’s office, crossed the vestibule and tested the headmaster’s door, tried the big stockroom in which the television sets were kept when they were not in use, but found nothing either puzzling or disturbing. That the intruders had been up to some kind of mischief seemed clear enough, but whatever had been intended did not appear to have been carried out.
Sparshott had made representations more than once to the headmaster (and the headmaster, he knew, had passed them on to the education committee) that, while the building was so vulnerable, a nightwatchman ought to be employed ‘on account I can’t be about all days
As he and the limping dog traversed the long corridor which led to the open back of the building, he half wondered whether the two men would be lying in wait for him. He gripped his torch more firmly. They had not been carrying anything, but, then, there was nothing in the hall or the quad worth stealing. He wondered whether they could have been two of the young workmen up to some sort of lark, or even two of the biggest schoolboys — there were some hefty young fellows in the football team — working off a dare.
Nobody interfered with his egress from the building, but, all the same, he was upset and he said as much when he returned to his wife. She, admirable woman, had come downstairs and was making a cup of tea.
‘There was two of them,’ he said. ‘Up to some sort of mischief, I reckon, and I don’t like it much. It’s too easy for people to get in while there’s no back doors. Mr Ronsonby was going away for Christmas this evening, but I’ve got Mr Burke’s phone number, so I’ll try to get him first thing in the morning and make my report. It’s the first time we’ve had interlopers, so far as I know, but it only needs somebody to start this sort of thing and we’ll be in trouble. I can’t be on guard twenty-four hours a day. I’ve told Mr Ronsonby I reckon we need a nightwatchman as well as me, and he quite agrees, but, so far, he says the committee won’t stand for the extra expense. Once a couple of TV sets and half a dozen of them new typewriters have been whipped, maybe they’ll think again.’
His wife, attending to the dog’s paw, pointed out that it was morning already, so at half-past eight Sparshott telephoned the deputy head. Mr Burke promised to come round as soon as he had had his breakfast.
The workmen were on Saturday overtime, so Sparshott next accosted the builders’ foreman and asked him to find out whether any damage had been done to the fabric or anything belonging to his work party sabotaged in any way.
‘I reckon it was a couple of the bigger lads up to mischief,’ he said, ‘not as we gets trouble of that sort, not as a general rule. But I got Mr Burke coming in half an hour or so, and if there’s anything to report, I’d be glad to have notice of it to tell him, it being my responsibility, if you get my meaning.’
There was nothing to report except what Sparshott himself had noticed. The quad was a little tidier than it had been when the workmen had seen it last, and some of the broken stone, the litter of roof slates and the heap of damaged bricks which had resulted from the demolition of the farm outbuilding had been tossed into the hole, as Sparshott himself had already seen.
Mr Burke turned up at half-past nine. He received Sparshott’s report and then said briskly, ‘Well, I’ve got a full list of the school equipment in my room. We had better check to find out whether anything is missing.’
‘I doubt if it is, sir. Nobody that barged into me wasn’t carrying anything. By the look of the quad, sir, I reckon it was just a couple of louts getting up to their larks. Couldn’t have been a couple of our own bigger boys, could it?’
‘It doesn’t sound like anybody in the upper school to me. Any boys capable of exercising the violence you say was used on you could only have been sixth-formers or two members of the first eleven. However, let us do the rounds and see whether there is anything more we can find out. Have you contacted the police?’
‘Thinking it might be boys, no, sir.’
‘Thank goodness for that. Oh, well, I’ll get my list and then we can check and find out whether anything has been taken. The two TV sets are locked up in the big stationery cupboard near the headmaster’s room, so, unless the lock has been forced, they should be all right. Fortunately the orchestra were allowed to take their instruments home with them, so no problems there.’
‘The big stockroom seemed all right last night, sir.’
They began with the secretary’s office. It was still locked, but Sparshott had a master key. Her desk was locked, too, and they left it untouched. Next came the room where all the stationery stock was kept. It also was still locked, as Sparshott had claimed. Burke, as senior master, had the key to it. He opened up and assured himself, with the caretaker as witness, that the television sets were there and that nothing had been disturbed since he himself had supervised the stowing away of the sets the day before.
From here the two men went up by the front staircase, opened the door of the staffroom, which was on the first floor, made a brief survey of the staff lockers and then Burke led the way along the corridor to the commercial room. Here were the typewriters, each hidden under its protective dustcover.
Burke took off every cover and made certain that all the typewriters were present and undamaged. Another thought had occurred to him while he was doing this.
‘I suppose it couldn’t have been a couple of evening-school students who hustled you?’ he asked.
