“It’s early to say with certainty,’ replied Pascoe. ‘ they’re pretty sure it’s a massive overdose of heroin.”
Chapter 15
There is no greater impediment of action than an overcurious observance of decency.
Sunday morning dawned fine; had been dawning fine before most people in the college got to bed. The scent of the sea was in the air, evocative, invigorating; but it was obviously going to become over-warm later.
Pascoe thought he was probably the first person out of bed, but he gave all the credit for this to the makeshift arrangement of blankets and narrow mattress on which he had finally slept in the study. It was an unnecessary precaution, he was sure, but Dalziel had been adamant. Sheer jealousy, thought Pascoe gloomily.
He decided no harm could be done by having a quick shower and shave. He felt disagreeably grubby and dull witted.
When he returned, he saw that he was no longer alone in the world. Ellie was standing outside the main door of the old house and he felt a gush of pleasure that she had come so early to see him. Then he saw that she was pinning something to the door. A notice. He came up behind her without being observed and coughed gently. She jumped very satisfactorily.
“Oh,’ she said. ”s you.” “Good morning,’ he said reading the notice. It was typewritten and had obviously been run off from a stencil on a duplicating machine.
We the undersigned members of staff dissociate ourselves completely from the high-handed and provocative actions of the police force last night
’”
It was dated and signed by about ten people. Some of them were only names to Pascoe, but others he recognized. Halfdane; Marion Cargo; and Ellie herself.
“That’s a bit unnecessary, isn’t it?’ he said.
Ellie shrugged.
“Halfdane’s idea, I’ve no doubt. You must have got even less sleep than I did.”
“It had to be done quickly. We thought if the notices were there for the students to see first thing this morning, it might help to cool things down.”
Pascoe laughed without humour.
“Cool things down! You’ve got to be joking! People like Cockshut will be delighted when they see this. It’s carte blanche for anarchy.”
“Piddle diddle,’ said Ellie lightly. ‘ are an old reactionary now, aren’t you? You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be young.”
He looked at her coldly.
“Don’t try to kid me, Ellie,’ he said. ”re no political animal.
You’d better watch yourself. It’s very easy for single women in places like this to mistake sentimental maternalism for radical idealism. But I don’t think you’re as far gone as that, though there’s always the danger. Then what is it you’re after? Pretty boy Halfdane’s approval?”
She slapped his face, almost dispassionately.
“You can go to jail for that,’ said Dalziel’s voice behind them. The fat man shouldered his way between them and read the notice.
“Bloody cloud-cuckoo-land,’ he said. ‘ all live in bloody cloud-cuckoo-land. Come on in, Sergeant. We’ve got a real job to do.”
Jesus wept! thought Pascoe as he went inside, not looking back at Ellie, what strange allies we find ourselves lined up with! Dalziel, Disney, Dunbar, Scotby, all the oldies, all the wrong reasons, but facing in the same direction.
“Bloody students,’ groaned Dalziel, once they got inside. ‘ social reform and young idealism on the surface, but give ‘ half a chance and they’re just young criminals.” “Protest is hardly criminal,’ said Pascoe mildly.
“Not protest, no. But I’ve just been talking to Landor. The stuff that’s missing from the admin, block! I warned ‘. Mostly small stuff, but a typewriter’s gone. And some bright spark broke open all three college posting boxes last night and tore up half the mail. Isn’t that criminal?
And the kind of thing they’ve scribbled around the place and left in typewriters for sixteen-year-old typists to find doesn’t bear repeating.”
He shook his head in what seemed like genuine bewilderment. Pascoe felt an impulse to cluck sympathetically but checked it. Dalziel’s gloom changed into a huge yawn.
“To hell with ‘,’ he yawned. ‘ doesn’t want us officially, so we’ll just stick to our brief. Now, the question is, do we still have a case to investigate or don’t we?”
“Pardon?”
“A good suspect for one, possibly two murders goes and gets himself killed. Very convenient, saves the state a lot of money, us a lot of bother. I want to be convinced he did at least one of ‘, preferably both. So convince me, Sergeant.”
He settled himself comfortably in his chair, picked up the phone, dialled, and said, ‘ Dalziel, love. Breakfast for two in the old study. Kippers are fine. ‘.”
“The only thing we’ve got that connects Fallowfield with Miss. Girling,” said Pascoe, ‘ the coincidence that he was interviewed on the nineteenth of December. Presumably he was offered the job on the spot, accepted, shook hands all round, collected his gear and headed for the station.”
“Or he might have had a car?”
“That makes it worse. If he did knock old Girling on the head while he was here, presumably he drove her car a hundred miles to the airport leaving his own here. How did he pick it up without being noticed?”
“Good point. Check with whoever keeps details of expenses paid. They might still have a record of whether he got his train fare or a car allowance.”
“In any case, why? As far as we know, he had no previous acquaintance with the woman. How do you work up a motive in a few hours, especially to kill a woman who’s just offered you a job? No, I think he’s a non-starter there, sir. It’s the mouldy-oldies who were here at the time who are our best bet.”
“You’re not helping much, lad,’ said Dalziel sadly. ”ll have to stick with it. The other one looks better though.”
“Yes, sir. But it still puzzles me why he would publicly accept her allegations that he had seduced her when he patently hadn’t.”
“But he obviously wasn’t going to agree he had fiddled her marks to get her out of the place.” “No,’ said Pascoe thoughtfully. ‘ might be a motive there. He didn’t give a damn about his reputation, but he wasn’t going to lose his career so easily.”
“Still, why did she send him that note? And why above all did he never deny they had been lovers?”
“And who wrecked his flat? And why?”
They were silent for a moment.
“That’s the trouble with you bloody intellectuals,’ said Dalziel finally. ‘ want answers, and all you give is a lot of bloody questions.”
“Henry Saltecombe took Anita’s note to Fallowfield,’ said Pascoe inconsequentially. ‘ he’s got a porkpie hat.”
That’ll really make them sit up in court,’ said Dalziel. ‘ in!”
It was breakfast, brought, to Pascoe’s surprise, by Elizabeth Andrews.
“Hello, love,’ said Dalziel. ‘, eh? The fairest fruit of the sea.”
Obviously encouraged by his tone and studiously avoiding Pascoe’s eyes, the girl planted the tray on the desk
