Tom Brown's Body

Issacher dropped his eyes, and there was a pause.

'I don't make a book during term,' he said slowly, his expressionless eyes on hers as soon as he raised them.

'Oh, nonsense!' said Mrs Bradley briskly. 'Tell all, and I'll go bail for you. But, in telling all, be truthful and succinct. We have no more time to lose than you.'

'Very well,' said Issacher slowly, 'I'll tell everything.' He paused again, glanced round at the expectant faces, and then burst out with some suddenness, 'Yes, Merrys and Skene did break out at night! Yes, they did go to the Dogs, but they did no good! Yes, Mr Conway was murdered, but it was nothing to do with me! Yes, I did make a book on whether they would be found out and when! Yes, I made another book on which of the masters did the murder! So what?'

'Go and play the piano, Issacher,' said the Headmaster, still speaking mildly, 'and return to us when you are calm and can speak in a proper manner.'

'And ask Mr Poundbury to spare us a word,' said Mrs Bradley. She wagged her head sorrowfully at Issacher's retreating back.

'Jewish, I suppose?' said the major. 'Artistic race. Wonder who scooped the pool? Whether they'd be found out or not, eh? Not a bad flutter. Intelligent idea.' He developed it, whilst Mr Wyck pretended to make more notes and Mrs Bradley actually did make some. Mr Poundbury was then shown in by the butler. 'Is Issacher in your House?' demanded the major, as soon as the butler had gone. 'Boy's got brains, but he wants a sound thrashing. You'd better see to it.'

'Alas, no, he is not in my House. I wish he were. I can't find a boy to play Hamlet to save my life,' said Mr Poundbury. 'And there's Mr Loveday, who cares for nothing but Roman Baths, and Miss Loveday, who cares for nothing but ferreting out other people's business, with a boy like that on their hands. A genuine talent wasted, wasted, wasted! He is even fat enough for Hamlet – 'too, too solid flesh' you know. Oh, by the way, did you send for me, Headmaster?'

'Mrs Bradley sent for you,' replied Mr Wyck. 'If you have no objection, I should be obliged if you would answer her questions, keeping closely to the point, if you follow me.'

'I have only one question to put to Mr Poundbury,' said Mrs Bradley, 'and I wish to put it in front of the governing body. Mr Poundbury, what can you tell us about Mr Conway?'

'I?' said Mr Poundbury, surprised. 'Do I know him? – Oh, Conway! I'm so sorry! Of course! Conway! What do you want me to tell you?'

'Anything which comes into your head.'

'I scarcely know where to begin,' said Mr Poundbury, smoothing his very sparse hair from his scholarly brow. 'I suppose I had better begin at the beginning. When was that? Let me think, Oh, yes, I know. No, I don't . . . What exactly am I talking about?'

'Hadn't we better have our meeting first?' muttered one of the governors, a bishop. 'My train –'

'You are telling the governors all about Mr Conway,' said Mrs Bradley firmly to the witness. 'We should like to hear what you had against him. That is all.'

'Had against him? Oh,' said Mr Poundbury, 'I know! You are thinking of my wife. But I wouldn't rake up past history, if I were you. She's got over it, of course. People do. Not easily, but they do. Yes, yes, there's no doubt of that. They do, do, do. ... What do they do? Oh, yes –' He glanced down at his heavily-bandaged right hand.

'And have you got over it?' Mrs Bradley enquired. Mr Poundbury shook his head.

'I could have murdered him,' he said simply. Then the meaning of these words seemed to dawn on him. 'Oh, I'm so sorry! Of course, he was murdered, wasn't he? I'd forgotten that again for the moment. Well, I must be going, I'm afraid. My wife will get you anything you – Oh, no, of course not. How foolish of me. Really, I do apologize! What did you want me to tell you?'

'You've told us what we wanted to know,' said Mrs Bradley.

Mr Poundbury nodded, said, 'Good night, boys. Lights out at ten sharp,' and went out, looking benign. Mr Wyck looked enquiringly round the table.

'An able man,' he said, forestalling criticism. 'Easily the best Classical scholar on the Staff, and with a curious and acceptable gift of coaching the backward boys. No trouble with discipline, either, strange to say. His wife runs the House, of course,' he added to Mrs Bradley. 'She is a gifted person, and is very beautiful. I think you will have to meet her. And, by the way, Poundbury is not usually quite so absent-minded. His wife –'

'What's this tale about her?' demanded the major, 'Nothing scandalous, I hope? Can't have that sort of thing with the boys around. Impressionable age, you know. Once saw that 'Young Woodley' thing they put on. Makes you think a bit. I say, you don't think he murdered Conway, do you?' he added suddenly. 'I should call him absent-minded enough to be capable of anything.'

'I don't think absent-mindedness in murderers is a sign of capability,' said Mrs Bradley. 'But I would say that a beautiful wife is excuse enough for anything. An old-fashioned idea, perhaps.'

'But what's this funny stuff about her and Conway?' persisted the major.

'You had better ask her,' said Mr Wyck.

'I didn't think of it in time,' said the major.

'And now, Wyck?' said the chairman. The governors hitched up their chairs. The Headmaster looked at the assembly, glanced at his notes and then gave a short, clear account of what had happened and what steps had been taken after the discovery of Mr Conway's body by Mr Kay and Mr Semple.

'And there is more evidence to be disclosed at the resumed inquest,' he added, 'but you will all appreciate that I am not at liberty to distribute facts which the police do net want advertised.'

'If I had anything to do with the conducting of this case,' said the major, 'I should want to know a great deal about that boy Issacher.'

'Poor Issacher! I am afraid he's had an unsatisfactory life, and then, even the best of Jews are upset by the troubles in Palestine, I believe. I don't like the boy as a boy; I'm sorry for him, though. Conway was no friend of his,' said Mr Wyck, thoughtfully. 'I always had a suspicion that he baited the lad. If I'd been certain, Conway would have gone. I won't have that sort of thing. As you know, Conway was held under 18B for a bit at the beginning of the war. They had to release him, of course, and very soon, but you will remember that I was not very much in favour of his appointment.'

'How long had Mr Conway been a master here?' Mrs Bradley enquired.

'Oh, for four years and the fraction of this term that he was with us,' said Mr Wyck. 'I didn't want him, as the governors, I know, will agree, but we were all glad enough to get a master at that time, as you can imagine. As the alternative was to employ a young woman – highly qualified and very charming – from Newnham, I was persuaded to agree to his appointment. But I didn't like it, and I wish now that I had plumped for the girl. At least she wouldn't have been murdered, although' – he smiled sardonically, an expression which gave his face a Satanic and startling charm – 'although I think she might have committed suicide after a bit.'

'That's all very well,' said the major, 'and you may remember I was as dead against Conway's appointment as you were. But what I say is this –'

'You were against appointing the girl, too,' put in Mrs Forrester, the only woman governor. 'You said she wouldn't be able to manage boys.'

'Neither would she!' retorted the major. 'And talking of that –'

'I don't think we had better,' put in the chairman firmly, 'otherwise we shall never get through. Now, Wyck, what further steps are you proposing to take?'

'I should explain first what further steps I have already taken,' said Mr Wyck. 'I have taken the step of inviting Mrs Lestrange Bradley to watch the School for a few weeks. Some boy or boys know something of this unhappy business. That is a fact which must be faced.'

'Just so, sir,' put in the Superintendent, before the major could reaffirm his faith in boyhood generally and in the boys of Spey in particular. 'We have some evidence already that one of the master's bicycles had been used on the night of the crime.'

'Good heavens, man!' exploded the major. 'Think what you're saying!'

'I am well aware of what I'm saying, sir,' returned the Superintendent, with the indulgence often shown by large men to smaller ones, 'and please don't think that we have the slightest suspicion, let alone evidence, that any of the young gentlemen of the School are connected in any way with the crime.'