“It’s a college, not one of Her Majesty’s ships,’ observed Douglas ironically. ‘ think he’s deliberately delaying things. The longer he spins things out, the more likely it is the girl will jack everything in.”
“But he’s admitted he slept with her!”
“He’s not a doctor, Captain. She’s over age. No, the real thing here is this question of maliciously trying to get her out of the college. If that’s proved, then he’s had it. Perhaps he’s hoping she’ll have a change of heart.” “And will she?’ asked the captain. ”m not prejudging, mark you.
Nothing’s proved. She may yet turn out a liar. But could she have a change of heart?”
Douglas considered, then shook his head.
“No,’ he said. ‘ haven’t really been able to make her out yet. She’s a very reserved girl in many ways. But, true or not, something very powerful drove her to make these accusations in the first place. And it’s my reckoning that it would take something even more powerful to stop her now. I can’t imagine what. But certainly more powerful than any blandishments of Fallowfield. I reckon it was just about here.”
He turned off at right-angles and began to climb through the heather up the dune.
“Give us a hail if you don’t spot it,’ said the captain. I’ll save my old legs an unnecessary walk.”
“Right,’ said Douglas.
At the top of the dune, he paused. There was a narrow parapet of scant, wiry sea-grass, then the dune fell steeply away in a bank of fine white sand. He stood staring out across the white-flecked sea for a moment. A few gulls wheeled and hung in the turbulent air.
“Any luck?’ shouted the captain.
“Not yet,’ said Douglas. ‘ might be a bit farther. It wasn’t a bad hit.”
On the seaward side of the dunes, wind and waves had scooped out a series of semicircular bays which provided ideal situations for bathing parties. Usually in the summer there were some students around, but the chill edge of the wind seemed to have kept them all away today.
Or nearly all. Douglas walked a little farther along and looked down into the next bay. He drew in his breath sharply. Lying on her side in the white sand was a girl. She had her back to him and seemed to be asleep. She was also naked.
His ball lay gleaming, challenging, a few inches from the smooth curve of her young buttocks.
Absurdly his mind began wrestling with the difficulty his next shot presented. Should he awaken her and ask her to move? Or perhaps he could claim a drop without penalty.
But the non-golfing part of his mind was beginning to notice other things. There was no pile of clothes nearby, for one thing. And there was an awkwardness about the sprawl of her limbs and a strange stillness about the whole body which he did not like.
“Shall I come up and help?’ called the captain.
Douglas did not reply but, laying down his golf-bag, he jumped into the bay, half-falling, and reaching the bottom in a slither of sand. Down here out of the cut of the wind, it was quite warm.
But the coldness of the girl’s skin as he gently touched her shoulder told him she felt nothing of this. He knew at once she was dead.
And as he turned her over and looked down into her stiff contorted face, he knew he had been right.
It had taken something very powerful indeed to stop Anita Sewell from carrying on along her chosen course.
Chapter 8
The parts of fifteen are not the parts of twenty; for the parts of fifteen are three and five; the parts of twenty are two, four, five and ten. So as these things are without contradiction and could not otherwise be.
Now there was twice as much work and more than twice as much activity.
Pascoe had visible evidence that he had been right to feel that old bones didn’t produce the same sense of urgency as a fresh corpse. It was Kent’s finest hour. For the second time in a quarter of a century he had been in the right place at the right time. (The first occasion had given him the promotion momentum which had brought him to his present eminence.) He had come across Pearl and Jessup in earnest conference by the fourteenth fairway. By the time Dalziel arrived everything needful had been done, down to a list of those who had played a round that day, and a methodical search of the dunes and the beach was taking place.
All Pascoe wanted to do was to re-immerse himself in his (so-far, unproductive) researches into the last movements of Miss. Girling. But Dalziel didn’t seem in the mood for demarcation disputes.
These are distinct and separate enquiries, sir?’ said Pascoe hopefully.
“If you mean, is there any connection, the answer’s yes,’ snapped Dalziel. Two bodies in the same place means a connection to me. It might be accident; but coincidence is like the bastards we pull in, assumed innocent till proved guilty. And we do that by finding two distinct and separate killers. Right?”
“I suppose so,’ said Pascoe.
“Anyway, how are you getting on? Any progress?”
“Precious little. I was just getting into it when news of the girl came in. I’ve got an outline of the day here. Look. Mostly from Miss. Scotby’s old diary of events. She hoards them. The students had gone down the previous Friday. There was a staff meeting on the Monday morning and a governors’ meeting in the afternoon. Now Miss. Girling was catching her flight at 11.30 p.m. or thereabouts. She was evidently a believer in starting the vacation as soon as humanly possible. Anyway, Miss. Scotby saw her after the meeting, about 5 p.m. and she says she waved to her as she drove out, presumably on her way to the airport, about an hour later.”
Dalziel grunted. ‘ didn’t leave herself much time. It’s well over a hundred miles.”
That’s what I said. But Scotby says she thinks the governors’ meeting may have been arranged late in the term, after Girling had made her holiday plans. The ink confirms this.”
“Ink?”
“It’s not the same as the stuff she used for the other major events. So she deduces she noted the meeting later.”
Dalziel rolled his eyes. The whites were quite revolting without the little brown pupils to hold the attention.
“So what are you doing now?”
Pascoe was ready for this.
“What I’d like to do is check at the airport. The big question is, did she get that far or not? They may still have records. And at the other end, Austria, too.” “All right,’ said Dalziel. ‘ remember, it’s taxpayers’ money, lad.” “It’s the taxpayers’ bodies as well,’ said Pascoe, but only after Dalziel had gone out of the door.
His destination was the golf clubhouse where Kent had set up a temporary HQ. He found the inspector gazing dreamy-eyed at a large gilt-framed photograph of Harry Vardon in mid-drive.
“Look,’ he said. ‘ had his jacket on. And a tie.”
“Was he playing here today?’ asked Dalziel.
“No. Of course not.’ Kent returned to earth. ‘.”
“Anything new?”
“Nothing much. The p.m. report won’t be through for a while yet, but I’m sure they’ll confirm what the doctor said. Death by asphyxiation. Her mouth and nostrils were full of sand.”
He grimaced at the memory.
“Next of kin?”
“Her parents. They live in Newcastle. They’ll be on their way.”
“Have you seen Mr. Landor? I couldn’t find him at the college and they said he might have come up here.”
“That’s right. He’s through there.”
