A Javelin for Jonah

“Well,” said Henry, “I don’t know either answer and I don’t really want to name names, but Barry has been brooding more than a bit since he knew of Colin’s accident. Then there’s Lesley. She and Barry between then could account for Jones, I think. He’s big, but he’s flabby and, apart from that, if Lesley really got busy with that sandbag thing at the end of the indoor jumping-rope and connected it with Jonah’s head, if you see what I mean…”

“She wouldn’t really commit actual bodily harm, though, would she? Girls don’t, you know.”

“Don’t they? She’s talked pretty wildly, anyway. Still, I noticed this morning that her two invalids are among us again and looking none the worse, so perhaps she has cooled off by now.”

“Here’s hoping,” said Hamish. “Well, I’d better leave you. I’ve promised some beginners a tutorial in the indoor pool, as I told you, and I don’t want them drowning one another before I get there.”

“You’re too conscientious by half,” said Henry.

“Look who’s talking!” said Hamish.

He found his beginners skirmishing about in the shallow end, ordered them out of the water and gave them a short demonstration of free-style swimming which was sardonically applauded. As he swung himself up out of the water a girl came out of one of the cubicles.

“I say, Jimmy,” she observed, “guess what!”

“My guess is that you’re late for class, but think nothing of it. I’m paid a great deal of money for putting up with little slackers like you,” said Hamish. “Get in, all of you—jump! No crawling down the steps.”

“No, but listen, Jimmy,” protested the girl.

“No time,” said Hamish. “Get in, all of you, and take hold of those crawl-boards you see at the shallow end. Arms at full stretch. Free-style kick, and count One, Two, Three, One, Two, Three, until I tell you to stop. Like this.” He dived in again and demonstrated. There was more sardonic applause as he heaved himself out on to the side.

“No, but, listen, Jamesy,” persisted the youngster, “it’s so peculiar. You must come. You must. It might be terribly important.”

Hamish looked at her and decided that she was in earnest.

“If you’re pulling my leg, young woman, ”he said, “you’ll be in trouble.”

“No, really! You must come. I’ve found something horrid in my cubicle.”

“Oh, Lord!” thought Hamish, following her along the warm tiles. “How big is it?” he asked, thinking of Jones. However, had it been Jones, she would probably have screamed the place down, he reflected.

“Well, it’s not big, exactly,” said the girl. “More kind of long and thin, actually.”

“Can you carry it?”

“Oh, well, yes, but I don’t like the idea of touching it.”

“Very well. Get into the water with the others.”

“Oh, but it’s my find! I want to show it you.”

“Get into the water, or I’ll throw you in at the deep end and leave you to drown.” He made a threatening gesture which sent her screaming away. Then he entered the cubicle, which was electrically lighted. The girl was right in two respects.

The object which was standing in one corner of the tiny room was certainly portable. It was a javelin. It was also important, for the binding at the hand-grip was dark red and looked sticky.

Hamish did not touch the javelin. He came out of the cubicle and went to the telephone in the instructor’s dressing-room. He asked for Henry.

“Look,” he said, “can you come over to the indoor pool?” Having received Henry’s assurance, he went back to his squad of learners and worked them hard until Henry appeared.

“What’s up?” Henry asked. “Drowned somebody?”

“No. Come and see whether you see what I and that little horror Cynthia have seen. If you do, the matter may be very awkward.”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t mean anything. Does anybody in the College know a butcher?”

“A butcher?”

Hamish led him to the cubicle and showed him the javelin.

“It struck me,” he said, “that one of our bright young lads might have amused himself by doing a bit of horror- faking, that’s all. What I’d like to know is how he got hold of the javelin.”

“There are a dozen in the sports cupboard.”

“None of them has an inscription, though, has it?” He indicated some chased lettering on a small silver plate affixed to a ring just below the binding of the grip on the javelin. “In my opinion, this belongs to Medlar. It must be the javelin which has disappeared from his collection. We both checked and it isn’t any longer among the trophies.”

“We’d better have him over, then. He ought to be in on this.”

While Hamish went back to the swimmers, Henry brought Gascoigne over and showed him the javelin. “And I wouldn’t touch it,” he said. “Fingerprints, you know.”

“Poppycock!” said Gascoigne. “Fingerprints have no value unless they are on record at a police station. However, I have no intention of touching the messy object. My opinion is that some practical joker has been