countless occasions. He picks his teeth with it, pares his nails, even cuts his meat.’
‘Has Mr Soresby been seen in the library today?’
Richardson shrugged. ‘Why, as to that, he comes and goes so often that no one notices him most of the time. After all, he’s the library clerk.’
Archdale had edged closer. ‘Look here, sir,’ he said to Richardson. ‘This is devilish unpleasant. I can’t believe Soresby would be such a blockhead. And to leave his knife behind as well.’
‘We cannot be sure it was he,’ Richardson said, frowning. ‘Besides, who can trace the hidden springs of another human heart? When one hand commits a guilty act, the other hand may find a way to confess it. I am much obliged to you for bringing this to my attention, Mr Archdale, and I would not wish to keep you from your studies any longer. But may I ask you not to say anything of this to anyone until I have had an opportunity to interview Mr Soresby? There may be a perfectly innocent explanation.’
It was an unpleasant business, and Holdsworth was anxious to be gone as well. Taking a step towards the porter’s lodge, he said, ‘You have much on your mind, sir, and you will -’
‘No, pray stay, Mr Holdsworth,’ Richardson said. ‘May I trespass on your good nature and entreat a further favour? A matter as delicate as this needs such careful handling, such nice calculations. Your assistance would be invaluable. You see, on the evidence available to us, we have as it were
Richardson took Holdsworth’s arm and led him through the screens, the passageway that separated the lower end of the hall from the buttery and the kitchens, and into the open court beyond. Directly in front of them, beyond the railings, was Jerusalem Lane. On their right was the Master’s Lodge. In the north-east corner, at right angles to the Master’s Lodge and along the boundary of Jerusalem Lane, was Yarmouth Hall. Richardson led the way diagonally across the cobbled court to the building’s entrance, a heavy oak door adorned with fragments of cracked Perpendicular tracery and set between two buttresses.
‘It is a most inconvenient lodging for students,’ Richardson said, raising the latch. ‘It is very old and constantly in need of repair.’
He led the way into a dark hallway with a stone floor. Passageways led off to either side and a staircase wound up to the floors above.
The tutor held a handkerchief to his nose. ‘I fear the air is not as healthy as it might be,’ he mumbled. ‘This way, sir.’
He conducted Holdsworth up the stairs. Yarmouth Hall had been divided into three floors, each of which now contained half a dozen small chambers. Plaster was crumbling from the partition walls, exposing the lathes beneath. The floor was gritty with dirt.
‘At least there is this to be said for the place,’ Richardson said as they rounded the last bend of the staircase and climbed the final flight to the second floor. ‘The chambers are inexpensive, and these garrets are the cheapest of all.’
On the top floor, he knocked on the door at the far end of the corridor. Holdsworth heard footsteps within, and the rattle of a bolt. The door opened a few inches, and Soresby’s long, anxious face peered out at them.
‘Mr Soresby, good day to you. May we come in?’
The undergraduate stepped back automatically, his expression blank with surprise, and pushed the door wide. Stooping, Holdsworth followed Richardson into the little room. Richardson closed the door behind them.
The room was about ten feet long, running along the pitch of the roof, but no more than five or six feet wide. There was no fireplace. Soresby’s cap and gown hung on a nail beside the door. Because of the slope of the ceiling, it was possible to stand up only along the inner side. At the further end was an uncurtained and unmade bed; here, near the door, was a stained deal table, on which were a few books and, on a wooden platter, the end of a loaf and a few crumbs of cheese. Attached to the wall directly above was a small shelf holding a collection of a dozen books.
As they entered, Soresby retreated towards the bed. Holdsworth stopped when he was next to the window, a dormer that stood wide open. The window faced south, towards the college, but there was little to be seen except a blank wall, part of the Master’s Lodge next door. Holdsworth looked down. Unpleasant smells rose up to greet him. He was directly above the little yard where the privy and the wash-house were, and where the Carburys’ servants sometimes worked in the day. No one was about.
‘Mr Soresby, I regret to say we are not here on a pleasant errand,’ Richardson was saying.
The undergraduate, bewildered, looked from Richardson to Holdsworth. ‘I don’t understand, sir. Has there been an accident? Is my father -’
‘No, no,’ Richardson interrupted. ‘You may make yourself easy upon that score, at least. No, this concerns the library. Before I continue, is there anything you wish to tell me? You may find it is in your interest to do so.’
Richardson paused. Soresby shook his head.
‘Very well then. I have to inform you that there has been a burglary. A thief entered the library some time today, probably during or just after dinner. He forced the lock of a particular cupboard and stole a valuable book.’
Soresby seemed to shrivel into himself. ‘I’m heartily sorry -I -’
‘What? You admit responsibility?’
‘No, sir.’ The undergraduate’s face lost what little colour it had. ‘Of course not. I – I only meant to say I wish I had been there to prevent the loss. As library clerk -’
‘Yes, indeed, there may be a question of a dereliction of your duties,’ Richardson said. ‘But that does not concern me at present. What concerns me is the far more serious possibility that you yourself may be the thief.’
Soresby raised his hands as if to ward off a blow. He retreated from Richardson and the backs of his legs came into contact with the edge of his bed. Taken by surprise, he sat down suddenly.
‘It is clear that the person responsible not only knew which cupboard to open, but also which book to steal. In other words, the thief was intimately acquainted with the library.’
‘I beg of you, sir, pray do not entertain such a suspicion,’ Soresby cried. ‘I would never -’
‘I would be obliged if you would hear the accusation before attempting to defend yourself from it. As I was saying, after dinner Mr Archdale had occasion to go up to the library. It was he who discovered the theft. He also discovered the implement used to force the door of the cupboard. Very properly, he brought it at once to me. I may add that he recognized it and so did I.’
Richardson took the penknife from his pocket and held it out. Soresby, still seated, stared at it for a moment, then stretched out his hand as if he meant to take it. The tutor pulled his own hand away.
‘You acknowledge it is your knife?’
‘Of course it is, sir. I would know it anywhere – I have had it since I was a boy. It was my father’s.’
‘Very well.’ Richardson threw a glance at Holdsworth. ‘Then I must ask you again whether you stole the book?’
Soresby opened his mouth but could not speak. He shook his head violently, his ragged hair swinging from side to side.
‘I regret to say that the evidence against you is so strong, Mr Soresby, that I have no alternative but to search your room. And the necessity is as distasteful to me as it is to you, I am sure, but you will understand that in the circumstances I have no choice. If you are innocent, which is possible, though the evidence against you is black, then you will naturally wish to see your innocence established before the world.’ Richardson looked up at Holdsworth. ‘It is important to do these things according to the proper form, sir. You would oblige me infinitely if you would stand by the door and witness the search.’ He turned back to Soresby. ‘Pray stand beside Mr Holdsworth. And, before you do, would you be so good as to turn out your pockets?’
Soresby rose unsteadily to his feet. He turned out the pockets of his coat and his breeches, one by one. ‘I – I had noticed I had mislaid the penknife, sir,’ he said. ‘I had thought…’ His voice trailed away. He stood beside Holdsworth. He was trembling like a man with an ague. There was a loud crack as he pulled a finger joint.
