A Question of Proof (22 page)

‘Last time you treated us to that observation it referred to a capacity for murder,’ Wrench pointed out sourly. Every one began simultaneously talking about something else, and breakfast was finished
to
an accompaniment of inconsequential chatter. When it was over, Nigel drew Griffin and Evans aside. ‘There are one or two things I want to get clear about yesterday. You’ll be able to tell me, Griffin, how is the umpiring arranged – I mean, is it the regular thing for umpires to change in the middle of the game?’

Griffin gave him a long, steady look. ‘I see… Yes. We generally do as we did yesterday; take it in spells.’

‘When did Tiverton ask to be relieved?’

‘He didn’t. I suggested it at tea. He’s got a bit of a gammy leg – the war, you know – and can’t do with standing about for too long.’

‘Was it your own idea to run in for water when Mrs. Vale fainted, Michael?’

‘Of course, what else could I do? They’d removed all the tea things from the tent.’

‘Nobody else suggested it too, I mean?’

‘Well, I think somebody did say “fetch her some water,” as a matter of fact. But I should have gone anyway.’

‘Who was it?’

‘I really have no idea. I was not in a state to notice.’

Nigel left them and went into the common room. Tiverton, Wrench and Sims were there. ‘I want to get it quite clear what every one’s position was immediately after the murder,’ Nigel said. Each of them explained. ‘And it was when you were bending over Mr. Vale that you noticed Mrs. Vale had fainted and told Evans to get some water?’ Nigel was looking impartially at the
three
of them; it was difficult to know to whom the question was addressed.

‘
I
never said that,’ said Tiverton at once.

‘I thought it was you who made the suggestion, Sims,’ said Wrench.

‘I don’t think so. I may have, of course. I mean, it’s the natural thing to say. Perhaps I did. Everything happened so suddenly. Yet, I don’t seem to remember.’ Sims shook his head in a puzzled way.

Nigel asked a few more questions, then left them. He next walked into the day room, detached Stevens II from a circle of boys loudly discussing the demise of their late headmaster, and brought him out on to the field.

‘Stevens,’ he said, ‘are there any hiding places in the school which no one would be likely to know about?’

‘I say, sir, do you want to hide somewhere?’

‘No; I mean places where you could hide a thing, quite a small thing?’

Stevens considered. ‘Well, sir, I suppose there are some. But I think they’d be pretty easy to find. We’ve played that game sometimes, but we always found the thing very quickly. It’s a bare sort of place. I wish there were some secret passages or something.’

‘Mm. I was afraid so. By the way, do you ever have fire alarms here – practice ones?’

‘Rather. Jolly good sport. There’s a whopping great bell, just outside No.1 dormitory. When it rings every one has to hurry out of school and form up in the
yard
– that’s in the daytime. At night we form up in the dormies instead, and the masters come in and we slide down those chute things. We made somebody ring it once as a test for the Black Spot, but there was a frightful row; he got tanned, and Percy said anyone who did it again would be expelled because if people kept on doing it there might be a fire one day and no one would take any notice because they’d think it was another joke and every one would be burnt to a crisp,’ Stevens recited breathlessly.

‘That’s rather a pity,’ said Nigel slowly, ‘you see I wanted it rung today. Oh well, it can’t be helped.’

Stevens’ eyes twinkled. ‘I’ll ring it, sir.’

‘Will you really? That’s awfully decent of you. I want it done five minutes before lunch. And you’re going to be caught.’

Stevens stared at him. ‘Caught? What do you mean, sir?’

‘Mr. Griffin is going to catch you. That’s part of the plot. But don’t worry about that. I’ll see it’s all right. And don’t tell anyone.
You
must swear not to tell anyone until Mr. Griffin catches you.’

Stevens bound himself by the most bloodcurdling of the Black Spot oaths, and was then sent in to fetch Smithers. Nigel did not expect that the boy would be able to tell him anything very important, but he wanted to clear up loose ends before making his dispositions for the final attack. He was more certain than ever that his theory of the case was the only possible one, but he had no more material proof of it
than
when he first formed the theory. There was just the chance, a hundred to one chance, a very long shot indeed… But then, the weapon. It made no difference to his theory where it was found or indeed whether it was found at all, but it piqued him; his total and abject failure to imagine how the murderer had disposed of it. Smithers aroused him from his reverie.

Michael and Griffin, strolling towards school from the far side of the field, saw the meeting between Nigel and Smithers. They saw the two walking slowly along the path towards them, the boy talking up into the man’s face and holding with shy affection on to his sleeve. They saw Nigel walk slower, and then suddenly stop quite dead as though he had seen a cobra in front of him; his head jerked forward; Michael was near enough to see that his face was lit up. It did not look like astonishment or satisfaction; it seemed to be a mixture of the two. Michael hurried towards them. He felt certain that something very important had happened; also, he had just remembered again the noise he had heard in the night, and thought Nigel might as well know about it. As he approached, he heard Nigel saying, ‘… tell the superintendent. It’s all right. I’ll explain to him.’

Smithers moved away. ‘
You
look as if the angel Gabriel had appeared in person to you,’ Michael said.

‘An angel in disguise, as they say. I’ve just been getting the inside dope on the Wemyss killing. This is going to make Armstrong look pretty blue. The
trouble
is, he’ll never believe that I had guessed it long ago –’

‘Good Lord, you don’t mean that Smithers –?’ interrupted Michael.

‘Oh no, he is not the perpetrator of the dastardly outrage. It took a good deal more brains than that poor lad is blessed with. Well, I must run along and tell the superintendent that this is where he gets off.’

‘Just a minute. It’s probably unimportant, but something happened last night –’

It was Nigel’s turn to interrupt, ‘You heard the door of your sitting-room open, perhaps.’

‘Oh, it was
you
, was it?’

‘No. Unless I walk in my sleep.’

‘Then how the deuce –?’

‘Elementary, my dear Watson. I’ll explain later. By the way, Armstrong may conceivably arrest you and Hero this morning. But don’t let it impair your appetite. We’ll have you out again before the evening.’

Nigel walked off towards the school, leaving Michael gaping in an unbecoming manner. ‘Your friend seems in good spirits,’ said Griffin, who had just come up. ‘Yes, he’s just told me that I shall probably be arrested before lunch.’ It was Griffin who gaped now. After a bit, he said wistfully, ‘I suppose you wouldn’t like someone to give that policeman a sock in the jaw, would you?’

‘Not just at present, thanks very much all the same…’

Nigel went through into the private side of the house and discovered Armstrong in the morning-room, gazing complacently at an object laid before him on the table. Nigel moved closer to inspect it. It was a thin length of steel, which had been filed to a point at one end.

‘Is this a dagger that I see before me?’ he asked.

‘That’s right, Mr. Strangeways.’ The superintendent beamed. ‘Found it in Mr. Evans’ room, resting on top of the picture rail. Pearson swore it wasn’t there last night. Reckon he didn’t look properly, myself. I didn’t half tell him off. That was a good guess of yours, sir.’

‘Pretty obvious. The murderer has been trying to incriminate Evans all along. He fetched the thing in the night from wherever he’d hidden it and stuck it up there.’

An almost theatrical expression of skepticism appeared on Armstrong’s face.

‘Evans thought he heard his sitting-room door being opened last night,’ continued Nigel.

‘Sez he!’

‘You’re very skittish this morning, superintendent. I shall always know now what the early bird looks like when he has caught the worm.’

‘Well, sir, mustn’t waste any more time. I’m sorry; very painful for you, sir. Got the warrant here,’ he tapped his side pocket, ‘going to arrest them now and get it over.’

‘Sez you.’

The superintendent, who had half risen from his chair, lowered himself back into it with great deliberation.

‘Now what
is
it, Mr. Strangeways? Here am I just about to arrest a friend of yours for murder, and there are you grinning fit to split your face. If you’ve really got something, hadn’t you better come across with it?’

‘I’m going to bring in a boy called Smithers, and I want you to promise not to ballyrag him. He’s been withholding valuable information, but quite unintentionally. If you start blustering at him, he’ll probably dry up altogether. He’s very sensitive, though he doesn’t look it.’

Armstrong tried to look hurt. ‘Come sir, you know I never bully witnesses.’

Nigel rolled his eyes mutely up to heaven. Then he went out and returned with Smithers. The boy sat down stiffly in a straight-backed chair, casting an apprehensive glance at the superintendent.

‘All right,’ said Nigel, ‘he won’t eat you; he’s quite a nice man really.’ Armstrong passed his finger round the inside of his collar. ‘Now then,’ Nigel went on, ‘the superintendent would like to know what you told me just now. Start where you went upstairs.’

‘Well, sir, just before the sports I went up to see Mr. Wrench. I’d just finished an impot, you see. He wasn’t in his room, so I waited a minute or two.’

‘And then?’ said Nigel encouragingly.

‘I looked out of the window. You can see the hayfield
from
it. I saw Wemyss in the haystack,’ he broke off lamely.

‘Well, what about it? We all know he was in the haystack then. He’d just been murdered,’ said Armstrong impatiently.

‘Oh, n-no,’ stammered the boy. ‘I mean he was there, of course. You see he waved to me.’

‘He WHAT?’ bellowed the superintendent, starting out of his chair. Smithers bit his lip. He looked as if he were going to cry.

‘That’s all right, old man,’ said Nigel. ‘Mr. Armstrong is just a little surprised, that’s all.’

‘Did I hear you say he WAVED to you?’ asked the superintendent, making a herculean effort to control his seething emotions.

‘Yes, sir. I s’pose he heard me opening the window or something. He was sitting up against the side of the haystack, and he waved his hand.’

‘Just after morning school Wemyss hinted to Smithers that he was going to be tried for the Black Spot Society – a gross breach of confidence by the way, but Wemyss wanted to crow over Smithers. Smithers said he didn’t believe the Black Spot would ever think of having a worm like Wemyss for a member, or words to that effect. So Wemyss told him it was a deadly secret, and he (Smithers) would be murdered if he let out anything about it. That’s why Smithers held his tongue when you asked if any boy knew what Wemyss was doing after school,’ amplified Nigel.

‘And when did you leave Mr. Wrench’s rooms?’
asked
the superintendent, in an ominously quiet voice.

‘Immediately after that, sir. I only got on to the field just in time for the first race.’

Seeing that Armstrong was blowing up for a hurricane, Nigel dismissed the boy with a nod. Armstrong beat his clenched fist slowly against the table. ‘That means Wemyss was not murdered till after two-thirty,’ he said incredulously.

‘Your deduction is inexpungible.’

‘Gawd! Now we’ve got to start all over again. Look here, sir, was this your great idea?’ Armstrong said suspiciously. ‘Yes; believe it or not, I’d decided some time ago that Wemyss hadn’t been killed when you thought. But I had no proof till this morning.’

‘Well, hadn’t you better tell me exactly when he was killed, and by whom?’

Nigel looked down his nose. ‘I think not. I need one thing to prove my case. If I don’t get it, I shall have no more material proof than you have against Evans and Mrs. Vale – a sight less, in fact. We can do you a very nice variety of suspects, though. Wrench running out on to the field, so he says, when the pistol went off; he might have taken the haystack en route. All the masters were on the field during the sports and they’ve all got nice alibis for after the sports. All of them except Griffin were near enough to Vale to murder him during the cricket match. You’re going to have a jolly morning’s work.’

The superintendent groaned. ‘For all that, sir, Mrs.
Vale
and Mr. Evans are my choice for the second murder. And if they did the second, one of them presumably did the first,’ he said doggedly.

‘So you’re going to arrest them still, are you?’

‘Ah, that’s another matter.’

Nigel blinked at Armstrong in a friendly way. ‘You know, I wish you would. I half promised Evans you would, in fact.’ Armstrong gaped. ‘You see,’ Nigel went on, ‘the murderer wants them hung. Every one is expecting you to arrest them. If you don’t, the murderer will know you’ve found some new evidence, and I’m rather afraid he may get impatient and have a shot at doing them in himself.’

Armstrong hesitated. ‘That’s only your theory, sir.’

‘Please. You can’t do any harm by arresting them. And we don’t want any more murders for a day or two.’ Nigel spoke lightly, but there was a strong compulsion in his look. ‘Don’t you see,’ he added, ‘it will put the murderer off his guard too. Knowing they are in prison, he may get careless and give something away when you question him on your new lines.’

Armstrong extricated his huge bulk from the chair. ‘Very well, sir, as you say, it can’t do any harm.’

‘That stiletto affair, what do you make of it?’ asked Nigel.

‘It’s queer, sir. An ordinary carpenter’s tool, you can see for yourself, with the end filed to a point. Wiped clean, of course; no fingermarks or traces of blood. Pearson is inquiring which of the masters used the carpenter’s shop here and whether any tools are
missing
. Anything strike you about it – the weapon, I mean?’ Armstrong gave Nigel a sly look.