“You can do nothing there,’ he said brutally. ‘ can’t work miracles either.”
The ambulance moved away, siren wailing once more.
“Now show me.”
Without a word she turned and went back into the building. Dalziel paused only to speak to Roote who was standing looking after the disappearing vehicle with a concentration of thought so intense that Dalziel had to speak to him twice.
“Get these people out of here,’ he said curtly. ‘ them out of the offices. Get them back to bed. There’ll be plenty of opportunities for this foolishness. Now isn’t the time.” “Yes,’ said Roote distantly. ‘. I will. I will.”
Dalziel looked at him doubtfully but now the youth seemed to wake up and before Dalziel had followed Sandra through the door he was already shepherding students towards the dormitory blocks.
Sandra had disappeared when he finally got into the building.
“Miss. Firth! Sandra! Where are you?’ he shouted up the stairs.
“Up here.”
Here was a small laboratory whose frosted glass door opened on to the long corridor which led away from the landing. An even smaller storeroom-cum-office opened off the laboratory itself and it was here that Sandra took him, pointing to the small desk shoved against the wall beneath the window and the institutional plastic and metal chair which stood beside it.
“He was sprawled over the desk,’ the girl said. ‘ thought he was asleep. I thought… “
For the first time, Dalziel looked closely at the girl and realized just how shocked she was.
“Sit down, for a minute, love,’ he said in his best kindly voice, spoiling it a little by snapping, ‘, not there!’ as the girl uneasily felt for the chair in the storeroom. He led her back into the lab where the best that could be managed was a rather tall stool. Taking a beaker off a shelf, he sniffed it, rinsed it thoroughly and filled it with water.
“Here, sip that.”
She took it gratefully.
“Now,’ he said, ‘ the hell were you doing up here anyway?”
She drank the water as though she had a heavy thirst and handed back the beaker.
“More?’ he asked. She shook her head.
“I just got fed up,’ she said suddenly. ‘ was up in the general office.
The place was packed, everyone being very jolly, and permissive and just a little bit hysterical. It was like those scenes you sometimes see on the old newsreels during the war — everybody in a shelter, all united and smiling through, you know what I mean. And then there were the organizing ones, hammering away at the typewriters, producing lists and schedules, like the revolution had come or something, instead of just a crummy little demo in a crummy place like this years after everyone else had had theirs. So I just helped myself to a bunch of keys and went for a walk.”
“I see. Why here?”
“Why not?” “Well,’ said Dalziel thoughtfully, ”s not the first place you’d come to, or the most comfortable, or attractive, I shouldn’t have thought.”
“Anyway, what’s it matter? I came. It was eerie. I suppose I felt brave, being here all by myself. I came up the stairs in the dark — ‘
“Was the lab door locked?”
“Yes. But I had a master key for all the rooms in this block. So in I went, this other door was a bit ajar, I peered in. I’d got my night eyes by then and I could see quite clearly. I just took one look and ran outside. There’s a phone in the corridor. I knew the girl on the switchboard, so she gave me a line though she wasn’t supposed to, not according to the planners. And I asked for an ambulance.”
Dalziel digested the information for a while.
“Was he dead?’ he asked finally.
“I don’t know. He was very still. And when I touched his hand he felt — funny.”
“You didn’t say you touched him.”
“No, that was when I went back in, to see if there was anything I could do. But I couldn’t think of anything, and I was scared, so I went and stood in the corridor till I heard the ambulance coming.”
“You’ve been very brave indeed,’ said Dalziel sincerely. ‘ you mind having another look inside?”
“No. Of course not.”
She slid off the stool and followed him back into the room.
“Now you say he was sprawled out over the desk? Good, good,’ he said.
“Now, did you touch anything in here?”
“Well, yes. I mean I had to. I touched him, Mr. Fallowfield, just once.
And I moved the chair back when the ambulance men came. And I touched the light switch.”
“But you didn’t remove anything? A piece of paper or anything at all?”
“No!’ she said with some indignation.
“I have to ask,’ he said. ‘ for instance he had tried to kill himself, and left a note it would be wrong of anyone to remove it, even if it was addressed to some specific person. You follow me?”
“I’ve overtaken you,’ she said, recovering her spirits now. ‘ I haven’t taken anything.” “Good-oh,’ said Dalziel making a minute examination of the room but touching as little as possible. He ended up on his hands and knees peering under and around the desk.
There was a clatter of feet on the stairs and Pascoe came into the laboratory, halting outside the storeroom and looking down at his superior’s proffered backside with an impassive face.
Dalziel stood up, dusting his elbows and knees. In his hand he held a broken hypodermic syringe which he wrapped carefully in his handkerchief, ignoring Sandra’s questioning gaze.
“What’s going on outside?”
There’s still a lot of people standing around, chatting, but the revolutionary spirit seems to have evaporated for the time being.”
He caught Sandra’s eye and grinned sympathetically. She looked away.
“Is this where he…?”
“Whatever happened to Mr. Fallowfield probably happened here,’ said Dalziel carefully. ”ll want this room sealed off until the lab boys can have a look at it. I’d better have your keys I think, Miss. Firth.”
She passed them over without demur and he locked both the storeroom door and the laboratory door behind them. On the stairs they met one of the uniformed men from the car. He looked apologetic.
“I know you said wait, sir, but after the ambulance… well, we thought one of us should take a walk down. It might have been for you.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, lad. As you’re so keen, you can bloody well stay here. No one gets into this block without my say-so. Right?”
They made their way back towards the old house, ignoring the groups of students and of staff with fine impartiality. Once back in the study, Dalziel gestured towards the phone.
“Is that thing OK?”
Pascoe lifted the receiver and listened.
“Yes. There’s an outside line.”
“Get the hospital. Find out what’s what.”
Outside the door they heard voices raised in heated discussion. The door was suddenly opened and a little, balding man strutted in, pushing past Landor.
“Superintendent Dalziel? We met briefly the other day, you’ll recall.
I’m Douglas Pearl and I’m here to represent… “
“Pearl?’ bellowed Dalziel, successfully bringing the little man to order; then more quietly, ‘. Well, Mr. Pearl, the swine you wish to cast yourself before have rushed off elsewhere.”
“Mr. Dalziel! I must protest… “
“So must I. You weren’t asked in here. Well, what is it, Pascoe? Spit it out, man.” “He’s dead,’ said Pascoe slowly, replacing the receiver. ”s dead. On arrival.”
The words engendered a silence which spread through the room and out into the hallway beyond.
“How?’ asked Dalziel, no respecter of respect.
