A Javelin for Jonah

11

Medley Relay

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But if you are right,” said Gascoigne, “what on earth can have been the effect on those poor children?” He sounded genuinely distressed. “I know who and what they are. Not one of them is what Jerry calls a hard case. Kathleen was an unconvicted shoplifter, sent here by worried parents. I would put her down as a kleptomaniac except that she has pilfered nothing since she has been here. Bill and Julian were expelled from their respective schools for smoking ‘pot’, and John had a nervous breakdown after he and a younger brother had what was reported as a sportive wrestling-match and the brother tumbled over a high balcony and was killed.”

“And John was sent here to recuperate?” asked Dame Beatrice.

“That may seem strange to you,” admitted Gascoigne, “but it made a change of environment for him and, of course, he is not allowed to go back to his home, which was the scene of the accident, until he leaves the College for good. That is my invariable rule and I hoped it had been the salvation of the unfortunate lad.”

“And the other two?”

“Are equally to be accorded sympathy. Benjy was unlucky enough to fall foul at school of a ring of young Jew- baiters. He ran away after having set fire to one of the school dormitories. Nothing got into the papers, but I knew his mother and she persuaded me to take the boy into my care. Shaun, of course, was mixed up in the Belfast troubles. He may have committed, or connived at, murder over there. He was hurt in a street battle, went to hospital and then an uncle in Eire took charge of him and shipped him over here to an elderly great-aunt. She had heard of us and wrote to ask whether we would be willing to take him.”

“The fees here are heavy, of course,” suggested Dame Beatrice.

“Yes,” agreed Gascoigne briefly. He paused and then added, “The great-aunt is the widow of an American millionaire, so there was no difficulty.”

“Now that you have mentioned these students’ names, I remember their case-histories,” said Dame Beatrice. “Of course, you admit that there are three potential murderers among them.”

“Shaun, perhaps. The other two?”

“The wrestling-match between the brothers may not have been an innocent affair at all, but a deadly struggle. As for Benjy, arson is a crime not far removed from murder if there are people in a house where an incendiary gets to work.”

“And you really think these students discovered Davy’s body?” asked Gascoigne, avoiding the inferences.

“I am sure of it. They discovered it, removed it to the long-jump pit and buried it. They acted, as I have pointed out, in sheer panic. I do not think the stabbing could have produced very much blood, but, of course, I have not seen the body. However, my theory is that what blood there was the students cleaned up. In plain words, I believe they did all that they could to hide the fact that Mr. Jones was killed in the place to which they themselves had assigned him. Judging, you see, from their case-histories, three out of the six had good reason to panic when they found that they had a murdered man to account for.”

“But if they did not do it, who did?”

“I have several theories. In the course of time, one of them will fit the facts.”

“What about the weapon?”

“Ah,” said Dame Beatrice, “that is an interesting question. I think the students must have found the weapon when they found the body. They cleaned the point of it—that heavy metal point which had replaced the original head of the javelin—and replaced the weapon in the locked cupboard. Then one of them (John is the most likely) was so much troubled about the whole affair that he risked going into your trophies cupboard, using Miss Yale’s key, purloined your own javelin, daubed it with red paint and placed it where one of the swimmers or divers was bound to find it.”

“But why? Why?”

“In order to do what he could to assist the course of justice, I assume. These students knew that Mr. Jones had been stabbed with a javelin and, as for John, your notes tell me that he had already suffered a nervous breakdown after he had caused the death of his brother, and I think his conscience (if one can call it that) or, possibly, some theory he had formed as to the identity of the murderer, drove him to make a gesture which clearly indicated by whose hand the murder was committed.”

“He did not think very clearly,” said Gascoigne sourly, “if he thought that I had killed poor Davy, but, oh, dear me! I have never attempted to find out exactly what goes on in their minds. That is Henry’s job. It is sufficient for me to make sure that they are kept busy and happy. But the javelin which did the mischief? How comes it that Henry, Martin and Miss Yale (all of whom have a hand in training that particular squad) did not notice the alteration in the implement?”

“How many students were members of that particular group?” asked Dame Beatrice, as though she was avoiding answering the question.

“I could not say. I should need to ask Henry.”

“In any case, I do not think the javelin was altered very long before the murder was committed, otherwise the difference would have been noted and would have received comment. Tomorrow I will talk to Mr. Henry about it. I have learned, by the way, that in addition to his official position as Dean, he is also your partner.”

“Yes, that is so. It is by his own wish that his name is not on the College prospectus as such.”

“May I ask whether he receives a salary in addition to a share in the profits?”

“Yes, his salary represents the bulk of his emoluments. He has very few shares in the enterprise.”

“Would he like more?”

“Dame Beatrice, I am at a loss to interpret the meaning of your questions.”

“They may be impudent, but they are not impertinent, I assure you.”