“How the hell could you fix that?” interrupted deBries.
“Don’t worry about that,” said Reinhart. “I have a contact.”
“A Portuguese lady who teaches there part-time,” explained Munster.
“Hmm,” said Reinhart. “Anyway, all three of them-the two school janitors and Miss Bellevue-recognized the two I mentioned, but nobody appeared to have seen the letter from Majorna at all.”
“And what conclusion do you draw from that?” asked Van Veeteren.
“The Devil only knows,” said Reinhart. “None at all, I suppose. But perhaps it’s worth noting that they recognized those envelopes, even if they didn’t remember who they were addressed to, but that they didn’t even remember the letter from Mitter.”
“Not much of a point to note,” said deBries.
“I agree,” said Reinhart.
Van Veeteren sighed and looked at the clock.
“How come we haven’t got any coffee? Rooth, would you mind. .?”
“I’ll get some,” said Rooth, as he vanished through the door.
“Carry on!” said Van Veeteren, taking a Danish pastry.
“Okay,” said Munster. “We were hard at it all day
Tuesday-Reinhart and I, Jung and Heinemann, and we interrogated eighty-three persons in all. Seven were absent, but Jung paid them a visit yesterday. Two members of the staff have been on study leave for three weeks, and I think we can forget them. I met most of these characters in connection with the investigation a month ago, and I can assure you that it wasn’t exactly a case of ‘How nice to see you again!’ not for any of the parties concerned.”
“We don’t get paid for being liked,” said Van Veeteren.
“Did you find a murderer?”
“No,” said Munster. “Quite a few who probably ought to be behind bars, but nobody who was a candidate for this murder.”
“Any. . suspicions?” Van Veeteren wondered.
“Not as far as I’m concerned,” said Munster.
“Same here,” said Heinemann. “No suspicions at all.”
Jung and Reinhart shook their heads.
“Hardly to be expected, anyway,” said Reinhart. “Any damned idiot can keep a straight face when there are ninety of them to be interviewed!”
“No doubt,” said Van Veeteren. “Let’s concentrate on the main points: the alibis and date of appointment.”
“What has the date of appointment got to do with it?”
asked Rooth.
“I think the murderer has been employed by the school for quite a short time,” said Van Veeteren.
“Why?”
“It’s just a feeling I have. Nothing rational, nothing that would stand up in court. Anyway, let’s get on with it!”
Jung handed the papers he’d had on his knee to Munster.
“All right,” said Munster. “This is going to be mainly jug-gling with figures, but if we can exclude eighty-nine out of ninety, all we need to do then is to pick the bastard up, I suppose.”
“Speaking of what will stand up in court. .” said Rooth.
“Ninety persons, in other words the whole lot of them, maintain that they are innocent,” said Munster.
“You don’t say?” ventured deBries.
“Eighty-two say that they have an alibi for that Thursday night when Mitter was murdered, the remaining eight went home immediately after school and were alone all evening and all night.”
Van Veeteren made another note.
“We have checked up on sixty-one of the eighty-two.
Checked up and eliminated. Of the twenty-one doubtful cases, we can probably exclude about fifteen. That leaves eight, plus six who either don’t have an alibi or have a particularly ropey one. If we have counted correctly, and we think we have, that leaves fourteen persons, and possibly the odd one more, who might have been able, hypothetically, to murder Mitter.”
Munster paused. Rooth stood up and started serving more coffee. DeBries cleared his throat. Reinhart took his pipe from his mouth and leaned forward. Van Veeteren dug out the remains of a Danish pastry with a pencil.
“Fourteen persons,” he said thoughtfully. “Do you have a list of them, Munster?”
Jung handed over another sheet of paper.
“Yes,” said Munster.
“Have you checked which of them have an alibi for the first murder?”
“Yes,” said Munster. “Six of them have watertight alibis for the Ringmar murder.”
“How can there be so many in that category?” interrupted deBries. “We’re talking about half an hour, or forty-five minutes at most, in the middle of the night. . ”
“Conferences,” said Reinhart. “Four of them were at the same conference three hundred miles away from here.”
“And the other two were in Rome and London,” explained Munster.
“Eight left,” said Van Veeteren. “How many of them are women?”
“Five,” said Munster.
“Three left. Is that right?”
“Yes,” said Munster. “At Bunge High School, there are only three men who don’t have an alibi for both murders.”
Rooth took a handkerchief out of his pocket, and sat with it in his hand.
“Good,” said Van Veeteren. “How many of those have been appointed within the last few years?”
Munster paused for three seconds.
“None,” he said. “The youngest has been working there for fourteen years.”
“Shit,” said Van Veeteren.
34
“There’s something that doesn’t add up.”
“Quite a few things, I’d have thought,” said Munster.
Coming from Munster, that was definitely cheek, but Van Veeteren let it pass. He suddenly felt weary. . An exhausted ox sinking into a swamp. Where the devil did all these images come from? Something he’d read in a book, presumably. He stared listlessly at his notes. What the hell was it that was wrong?
Perhaps everything, as Munster had implied?
Or was it just a detail?
Munster sighed and looked at the clock.
“What shall we do now?” he asked. “Check the alibis more carefully?”
“No,” said Van Veeteren. “It’s obvious that we could smash one or two of them, but we’re not allowed to keep pestering the Bunge crowd: specific orders from above. The parents’
association have threatened to keep the children at home if we turn up anymore. Suurna has phoned Hiller seventeen times.”
“Hmm,” said Munster. “In that case, I don’t see what. .”
“Go and fetch Rooth again,” said Van Veeteren.
Munster stood up.
“But leave me alone for half an hour before the pair of you turn up.”
Munster opened his mouth and intended to say something, but the chief inspector swiveled around on his
