Faintley Speaking

presence. The headmistress was tall, spare and extremely well dressed. She gave an immediate impression of stonyhearted efficiency, her armour, Mrs Bradley supposed, against a world less sensitive than herself.

‘Good morning,’ she said, looking from Mrs Bradley, small, alert and elderly, to Laura, big, well-built and youthful.

‘I have come for some information about the late Miss Faintley, who, I believe, was on the staff here,’ Mrs Bradley began.

‘Miss Faintley’s case is in the hands of the police and they have already been to the school, I understand. May I ask for what purpose you require information about Miss Faintley?’

‘Certainly. I am consulting psychiatrist to the Home Office, and there are certain aspects of Miss Faintley’s case which I find interesting and which the police are willing that I should investigate.’

‘Yes, I see. Won’t you sit down? Excuse me just a minute.’ She went out of the room and closed the door behind her.

‘Gone to her secretary’s room to use the other phone and dig up our reputations,’ prophesied Laura. ‘Sensible woman, that. Tactful, too. Don’t want to hurt our feelings.’

‘No. And now you’d better leave me alone with her, I think.’

‘Right,’ agreed Laura cordially. ‘I’ll go and stroll round the games field. It comes to me with a blast like the crack of doom that I shall find myself on the staff here very shortly!’ She cocked an inquiring eye at Mrs Bradley. ‘Is that what you were thinking as we came home?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ her employer answered. ‘It depends upon what I learn about Miss Faintley to-day.’ She waved Laura out into the sunshine and took stock of the room while she awaited Miss Golightly’s return.

This was somewhat delayed. When the head teacher reappeared she apologized briefly for leaving her visitor alone so long.

‘It wasn’t that I doubted you at all, of course, but I get such a number of what I can only feel are casual callers, that I don’t really want to waste time on those who don’t matter.’ She smiled to take the sting out of this home- truth, but Mrs Bradley expressed entire agreement, and plunged straightway into business.

‘This, of course, is a co-educational school,’ she said. ‘May I ask whether the late Miss Faintley had any particular friends among the men on your staff?’

‘So far as I am aware she had not. In fact, as soon as I received the news of this dreadful business I sent to Mr Rankin, my first assistant, to ask him the very same question. His reply is here. It came by the next morning’s post.’

‘What made you send to him, I wonder?’

‘I wanted to be prepared for eventualities. I was naturally deeply shocked to learn what had happened, and I realized that the school was bound to be involved. I have noticed that when a woman is found murdered for no apparent reason, the police ask first whether she had any men friends. I have also noticed,’ she added tartly, ‘that the dead woman never seems to have heard of such creatures as men!’

‘Indeed, yes,’ agreed Mrs Bradley. ‘And Mr Rankin’s letter?’

‘Ah, yes. Here it is.’ Miss Golightly produced a letter post-marked Torquay. Mrs Bradley thanked her and opened the envelope.

‘I am most upset,’ Mr Rankin had written in a plain, unscholarly hand, ‘but can offer no suggestions. Our unfortunate colleague had no entanglements, so far as I am aware, but you will appreciate that her private life was a little outside my scope. As her death occurred on holiday there is every chance that the excitement will soon die down. It would be very bad for the school if it did not. But I really think we need not worry too much, particularly as it all took place such a distance away from Kindleford.’

‘It did not take place at such a very great distance away from Mr Rankin’s holiday address,’ said Mrs Bradley. Miss Golightly looked at her very sharply.

‘I hope you are not thinking along those sort of lines,’ she said firmly. ‘I assure you that Mr Rankin is the best of husbands and fathers, and is the last man on earth to entangle himself on holiday, or at any other time, with the women teachers!’

Mrs Bradley nodded. ‘I was merely remarking on a coincidence,’ she said. ‘What can you tell me about a boy of thirteen named Street? He attends this school, I believe.’

‘Street? Mark Angus Street? Why, certainly he does. His father is an accountant, and quite comfortably off as our parents go. Mark is an intelligent but somewhat indolent boy. We are hoping he will wake up later and do well. He is between thirteen and fourteen and in the A stream of his year. What did you wish to know about him?’

‘He stayed at Miss Faintley’s hotel in Cromlech. He was taken by her (at her suggestion) to visit the cathedral city of Torbury, but he lost trace of her there and was present when her body was discovered by my secretary at the top of Cromlech Down.’

‘Really? I had no idea of this!’

‘No, the boy’s name was kept out of the papers. He was not the person who actually discovered the body, and it seemed much better not to involve him.’

‘That was extremely thoughtful. Have you seen the boy?’

‘Yes, indeed. My secretary and I were staying at the same hotel as the Streets and Miss Faintley herself, although I never saw Miss Faintley alive.’

‘Oh, I see! No wonder you are interested in the case.’

‘Yes.’

‘That would seem to make a difference, Mrs Bradley, of course. I wonder how best I can help you?’

‘By allowing me to ask you one more question. I don’t think for a moment that you will be able to answer it, and it is highly confidential, if you don’t mind.’