Cat Sitter Among the Pigeons

Chapter 12

NEW LAMPS FOR OLD

Miss Bulstrode had another faculty which demonstrated her superiority over most other women. She could listen.

She listened in silence to both Inspector Kelsey and Adam. She did not so much as raise an eyebrow. Then she uttered one word.

“Remarkable.”

“It's you who are remarkable,” thought Adam, but he did not say so aloud.

“Well,” said Miss Bulstrode, coming, as was habitual to her, straight to the point. “What do you want me to do?”

Inspector Kelsey cleared his throat.

“It's like this,” he said. “We felt that you ought to be fully informed - for the sake of the school.”

Miss Bulstrode nodded.

“Naturally,” she said, “the school is my first concern. It has to be. I am responsible for the care and safety of my pupils - and in a lesser degree for that of my staff. And I would like to add now that if there can be as little publicity as possible about Miss Springer's death - the better it will be for me. This is a purely selfish point of view - though I think my school is important in itself - not only to me. And I quite realize that if full publicity is necessary for you, then you will have to go ahead. But is it?”

“No,” said Inspector Kelsey. “In this case I should say the less publicity the better. The inquest will be adjourned and we'll let it get about that we think it was a local affair. Young thugs - or juvenile delinquents, as we have to call them nowadays - out with guns among them, trigger happy. It's usually flick knives, but some of these boys do get hold of guns. Miss Springer surprised them. They shot her. That's what I should like to let it go at - then we can get to work quietlike. Not more than can be helped in the press. But of course, Meadowbank's famous. It's news. And murder at Meadowbank will be hot news.”

“I think I can help you there,” said Miss Bulstrode crisply, “I am not without influence in high places.” She smiled and reeled off a few names. These included the Home Secretary, two press barons, a bishop, and the Minister of Education. “I'll do what I can.” She looked at Adam. “You agree?”

Adam spoke quickly.

“Yes, indeed. We always like things nice and quiet.”

“Are you continuing to be my gardener?” inquired Miss Bulstrode.

“If you don't object. It puts me right where I want to be. And I can keep an eye on things.”

This time Miss Bulstrode's eyebrows did rise.

“I hope you're not expecting any more murders?”

“No, no.”

“I'm glad of that. I doubt if any school could survive two murders in one term.”

She turned to Kelsey.

“Have you people finished with the Sports Pavilion? It's awkward if we can't use it.”

“We've finished with it. Clean as a whistle - from our point of view, I mean. For whatever reason the murder was committed - there's nothing there now to help us. It's just a Sports Pavilion with the usual equipment.”

“Nothing in the girls' lockers?”

Inspector Kelsey smiled.

“Well - this and that - copy of a book - French - called Candide - with - er - illustrations. Expensive book.”

“Ah,” said Miss Bulstrode. “So that's where she keeps it! Giselle d'Aubray, I suppose?”

Kelsey's respect for Miss Bulstrode rose.

“You don't miss much, ma'am,” he said.

“She won't come to harm with Candide,” said Miss Bulstrode. “It's a classic. Some forms of pornography I do confiscate. Now I come back to my first question. You have relieved my mind about the publicity connected with the school. Can the school help you in any way? Can I help you?”

“I don't think so, at the moment. The only thing I can ask is, has anything caused you uneasiness this term? Any incident? Or any person?”

Miss Bulstrode was silent for a moment or two. Then she said slowly:

“The answer, literally, is: I don't know.”

Adam said quickly:

“You've got a feeling that something's wrong?”

“Yes - just that. It's not definite. I can't put my finger on any person, or any incident - unless -”

She was silent for a moment, then she said:

“I feel - I felt at the time - that I'd missed something that I ought not to have missed. Let me explain.”

She recited briefly the little incident of Mrs. Upjohn and the distressing and unexpected arrival of Lady Veronica.

Adam was interested.

“Let me get this clear, Miss Bulstrode. Mrs. Upjohn, looking out of the window, this front window that gives on the drive, recognized someone. There's nothing in that. You have over a hundred pupils and nothing is more likely than for Mrs. Upjohn to see some parent or relation that she knew. But you are definitely of the opinion that she was astonished to recognize that person - in fact, that it was someone whom she would not have expected to see at Meadowbank?”

“Yes, that was exactly the impression I got.”

“And then through the window looking in the opposite direction you saw one of the pupils' mother in a state of intoxication, and that completely distracted your mind from what Mrs. Upjohn was saying?”

Miss Bulstrode nodded.

“She was talking for some minutes?”

“Yes.”

“And when your attention did return to her, she was speaking of espionage, of Intelligence work she had done in the war before she married?”

“Yes.”

“It might tie up,” said Adam thoughtfully. “Someone she had known in her war days. A parent or relation of one of your pupils, or it could have been a member of your teaching staff.”

“Hardly a member of my staff,” objected Miss Bulstrode.

“It's possible.”

“We'd better get in touch with Mrs. Upjohn,” said Kelsey. “As soon as possible. You have her address, Miss Bulstrode?”

“Of course. But I believe she is abroad at the moment. Wait - I will find out -”

She pressed her desk buzzer twice, then went impatiently to the door and called to a girl who was passing.

“Find Julia Upjohn for me, will you, Paula?”

“Yes, Miss Bulstrode.”

“I'd better go before the girl comes,” Adam said. “It wouldn't be natural for me to assist at the inquiries the inspector is making. Ostensibly he's called me in here to get the lowdown on me. Having satisfied himself that he's got nothing on me for the moment, he now tells me to take myself off.”

“Take yourself off and remember I've got my eye on you!” growled Kelsey with a grin.

“By the way,” said Adam, addressing Miss Bulstrode as he paused by the door. “Will it be all right with you if I slightly abuse my position here? If I get, shall we say, a little too friendly with some members of your staff?”

“With which members of my staff?”

“Well - Mademoiselle Blanche, for instance.”

“Mademoiselle Blanche? You think that she -”

“I think she's rather bored here.”

“Ah!” Miss Bulstrode looked rather grim. “Perhaps you're right. Anyone else?”

“I shall have a good try all round,” said Adam cheerfully. “If you should find that some of your girls are being rather silly, and slipping off to assignations in the garden, please believe that my intentions are strictly sleuthial - if there is such a word.”

“You think the girls are likely to know something?”

“Everybody always knows something,” said Adam, “even if it's something they don't know they know.”

“You may be right.”

There was a knock on the door, and Miss Bulstrode called “Come in.”

Julia Upjohn appeared, very much out of breath.

“Come in, Julia.”

Inspector Kelsey growled.

“You can go now, Goodman. Take yourself off and get on with your work.”

“I've told you I don't know a thing about anything,” said Adam sulkily. He went out, muttering “Blooming Gestapo.”

“I'm sorry I'm so out of breath, Miss Bulstrode,” apologized Julia. “I've run all the way from the tennis courts.”

“That's quite all right. I just wanted to ask you your mother's address - that is, where I can get in touch with her?”

“Oh! You'll have to write to Aunt Isabel. Mother's abroad.”

“I have your aunt's address. But I need to get in touch with your mother personally.”

“I don't see how you can,” said Julia, frowning. “Mother's gone to Anatolia on a bus.”

“On a bus?” said Miss Bulstrode, taken aback.

Julia nodded vigorously.

“She likes that sort of thing,” she explained. “And of course it's frightfully cheap. A bit uncomfortable, but Mummy doesn't mind that. Roughly, I should think she'd fetch up in Van in about three weeks or so.”

“I see - yes. Tell me, Julia, did your mother ever mention to you seeing someone here whom she'd known in her war service days?”

“No, Miss Bulstrode, I don't think so. No, I'm sure she didn't.”

“Your mother did Intelligence work, didn't she?”

“Oh, yes. Mummy seems to have loved it. Not that it sounds really exciting to me. She never blew up anything. Or got caught by the Gestapo. Or had her toenails pulled out. Or anything like that. She worked in Switzerland, I think - or was it Portugal?”

Julia added apologetically: “One gets rather bored with all that old war stuff, and I'm afraid I don't always listen properly.”

“Well, thank you, Julia. That's all.”

“Really!” said Miss Bulstrode, when Julia had departed. “Gone to Anatolia on a bus! The child said it exactly as though she were saying her mother had taken a 73 bus to Marshall and Snelgrove's.”