Death at the Jesus Hospital by David Dickinson Read Free Book Online Page B

didn’t say how he came by this information, mind you. The rogue must have been skulking in the public bar – the staff here use the lounge, always have.’ The Inspector gave the globe another spin. ‘I’ll have to interview the rest of them tomorrow and maybe the nextday, though I don’t have much hope of anything very useful. The headmaster insisted I interview every single pupil, probably so they can tell their parents. You’ll be wanting to see the body, my lord, down at the hospital in the town.’
    Powerscourt wondered how many years these maps had been on the walls. The colours were going. Central Canada, he observed, had faded to a dull pink while the two coastlines at opposite ends of the country were still red. ‘Have you ever seen anything like that mark on his chest before, Inspector?’
    ‘I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,’ replied Inspector Grime, ‘not even up here in the wilds of Norfolk.’
     
    Later that evening Powerscourt met the headmaster in his study. Davies had his feet on his desk and was nursing a very large glass of whisky.
    ‘I don’t normally drink in the term time at all, but that governors’ meeting was terrible,’ he said, grimacing at the memory. ‘They virtually accused me of having carried out the murder. There’s one very old governor who was at the school about the beginning of the last century, and he’s been on the governing body for years, certainly far longer than I’ve been headmaster here. Discipline, he always goes on about discipline. In his day, I expect, a boy was flogged for anything at all, shoelaces not properly tied, running in the corridor, that sort of thing. He claimed lack of discipline caused the bursar’s death, though he couldn’t explain how.’
    Powerscourt saw that the headmaster’s study was more or less what you would expect in a place like this. There was an enormous desk, virtually guaranteed to intimidate nervous new teachers or schoolboy criminals. The walls were lined with school photographs. There was an oar from the First Trinity Boat Club, the rowing arm of Trinity College, Cambridge, behind the headmaster’s desk. Powerscourt noticed that a recently appointed bishop of the Church of England and a junior member of the cabinet had rowed onthe Cam with the headmaster. There were bookshelves, one shelf full of a volume called The Future of the Public Schools , written by the headmaster himself. A selection of vicious-looking canes were prominently displayed next to the oar to strike fear into the hearts of malefactors.
    ‘Peabody says Gill was frightened in the last few weeks of his life. Did you notice that too, Headmaster?’
    It was just like being in the army, Powerscourt remembered. You called a man by his title, not by his name, as if function was the sole criterion in addressing your fellow man.
    ‘I thought he looked a bit under the weather. But remember, Powerscourt, there are a lot of people to look after here. I’m not the matron or the father confessor to the staff or anybody else.’
    ‘May I ask you a difficult question, Headmaster? I apologize for troubling you but time is important in murder cases. What precisely was the link between the school and the Silkworkers Company down in London?’
    ‘I wish they’d stay in London, those people, and not come up here and give me a hard time during governors’ meetings ,’ the headmaster said wearily. ‘The Silkworkers look after the endowments of the school. Always have, always will, I expect. The chairman of the board of governors is always one of theirs, as are four of the other school governors. It’s like one of those cabinets packed with the prime minister’s relations in Lord Salisbury’s time. The family, or in our case the Silkworkers, call the shots. It would be very difficult to push through a policy they didn’t approve of. Silkworkers appointed me, they’ll probably appoint my successor.’
    ‘I have heard that there may be changes afoot