A Javelin for Jonah (6 page)

“I’ve tried the changing-rooms,” he said, when they met. “It was a pretty long shot, but I just thought they might have shut him up in one of those big cupboards. I hadn’t a key, but I walked all the way round and hammered and shouted. I didn’t get any reply, but, of course, if he was shut away like that, he might have passed out, I suppose.”

“Oh,” said Henry, “I shouldn’t think he would. All those cupboards have ventilation holes in the doors. He wouldn’t suffocate. No, if you didn’t get any reply, he isn’t there. It would be too obvious a hiding-place, anyway. Besides, the groundsman has a cupboard and a locker there. He’d have found him and let him out before this. Well, have you any other ideas? You’re nearer in age to the students than I am. Where would be a likely place to start? What are they likely to have thought of?”

“The whale’s belly,” said Hamish. “You know, Henry, I seem to think that must be more than merely a
fanciful
way of describing Jones’s prison. Can’t you think of any place which might fit the reference? To my mind, under the ground seems likelier than above it. Isn’t there a cellar, or something of the sort, attached to this house?”

“A cellar…” Henry considered the suggestion. “There’s a wine-cellar, but nobody except Gassie and the butler have access to that.”

“Well, it’s not an old enough house to have a priest’s room or secret passages, so there’s no problem there.”

“I’ll tell you what there is, now I come to think of it,” said Henry. “There’s the underground installation for the central heating. I wonder whether they can have thought of that? It’s known to the College as the stoke-hole. That might fit the bill if they could get hold of the key.”

“How does one get to it?”

“Well, there’s a kind of janitor who looks after it. Access to it is by what looks like a half-door, with a tiny round-headed window, in the wall round by the kitchens, It’s down a steep step. I went in once with Jackson—that’s the janitor fellow—and he showed me round. I believe you may have hit on the very place, although I’m surprised the students should have known how to gain access to it. Well, one thing: if Jonah is down there he’ll be all right. It’s warm and dry, and there must be plenty of ventilation because Jackson has a sort of cubby-hole down there and uses it quite a lot in winter weather, he informed me. There’s an armchair—basket-work, with cushions—and a primus stove and a food cupboard—all modern conveniences, so to speak.”

“Well, shall we go and take a look?”

“Have to wait until I can get the key off Jackson tomorrow morning before we can get in, I’m afraid, but we could go to the doorway and speak. I don’t suppose the door is soundproof, so at least we may be able to establish whether Jones is there or not.”

“Could Jones have been down there for a couple of days without Jackson finding him, though?”

“Oh, yes. Jackson wouldn’t go down there in this weather. Let’s make a recce and take a butchers.”

As they had keys to the front door, they let themselves out that way and walked round the side of the mansion towards the kitchen regions. When they were under the pantry window, Henry switched on a torch and played the spotlight from it over the surrounding brickwork. A couple of yards further on, Hamish saw the round-headed glass in the half-door which Henry had mentioned. They pushed at the door and tried to rattle it, but it was well-fitted and did not budge. Hamish descended the step, knelt on the narrow stone doorsill, put his lips close to the key-hole and called out Jones’s name, but there was no response. Then Henry tried. His voice boomed back at him, but that was all.

“There’s no supervision in the halls of residence, is there?” asked Hamish, as Henry stood up.

“No, and to those I
do
have a key. We shan’t be popular if we go invading them at this time of night, though. Much better wait until the huts are empty tomorrow morning. Not that I think they’ll have hidden him there. Servants go in to clean up and make the beds and collect the laundry, you know, and there’s an odd-job fellow who empties waste-paper baskets and cleans boots and shoes.”

“The servants could be squared, perhaps.”

“By penniless students?”

“Well,
scared
into keeping quiet, then.”

“Possibly. All right, we’ll take a look round while the chaps are having breakfast. Is there anywhere else you can think of?”

“Well, he would hardly have been hidden in the room of one of the girls, but what about trying the attics?”

“The girls’ rooms?” said Henry thoughtfully. “You know, you may have hit on something there. It’s quite clear that the women students are in on the rag. It’s also fairly certain that they’re nervous about it. It’s true that most of the lasses hate old Jonah like poison, but there are one or two types who might take a pop at him and think the fun and games worthwhile. His prowess with Bertha may have given the hussies— and we’ve got our share of them—a bit of a kick.”

“Isn’t there the same objection, though?”

“How do you mean?”

“The servant problem.”

“No, as it happens, there isn’t. The girls are supposed to make their own beds and keep their rooms tidy.”

“What about their laundry, though?”

“They wash and iron their own bits of frippery and just chuck their bed-linen and so forth outside their bedroom doors every Thursday morning. I believe Miss Yale does an occasional inspection of rooms, but she always gives warning of her visits, so the girls are never taken on the hop. I really think, you know, James, that I’ll go and rake her out and suggest she does a round-up. If there’s anything scandalous going on, I think we should nip it in the bud.”

“I should think Miss Yale would nip
us
in the bud, if we go disturbing her at one o’clock in the morning.”

“Not she. Come along. Let’s chance it.”

Miss Yale’s large bed-sitter had a fanlight over the door and they could see that her light was on. Henry tapped and they waited. There was no invitation to them to enter, but after a few moments Miss Yale opened the door.

“Oh, it’s you two,” she said. “Come in. Sorry to have kept you waiting, but thought I’d better hide my chunk of porn in case it was one of the hussies. What can I do for you? If you’re looking for Jonah, try elsewhere. I haven’t got him.”

“How did you guess we were looking for Jonah?” Henry enquired, closing the door behind himself and Hamish.

“Spotted you snooping round the house. No luck, I suppose?”

“We’ve tried the changing-rooms and the stoke-hole,” said Hamish, “but haven’t found him.”

“I suppose you’ve tried his own room to make sure they haven’t trussed him up and bundled him into his own wardrobe or somewhere?”

“We wondered,” said Henry, with some diffidence, “whether, while we do that, you could make sure that none of your young ladies is giving him her hospitality.”

“Think it’s likely?
I
don’t. I’ll go the rounds, if you like, but it won’t be any help. Good thing I hadn’t gone to bed. You push along to Jonah’s quarters, then, and I’ll give the girls’ rooms the once-over. They are three to a room, so it won’t take me all that long.”

“Not much privacy for the girls, then,” said Hamish, when they had inspected Jones’s two splendid rooms and had assured themselves that he was not in residence or captivity there.

“Oh, they can curtain all the rooms into cubicles, I believe,” said Henry. “They probably like it quite well. Lots of delinquent girls are definitely gregarious, curiously enough. In fact, I would say that our young women are far more homogeneous than the men.”

Miss Yale returned at the end of twenty-five minutes.

“Nothing doing,” she reported. “A few cases of incipient lesbianism, but nothing more. They get lonely, you know, and as they can’t co-habit with the men, what can you expect? After all, they’re in prison here, poor little stinkers.” With this sympathetic pronouncement she said goodnight and closed her door.

“Now for the attics,” said Henry. But in the attics they drew blank once more. “Well, we shall have to give it up for tonight,” he added at last, “but in the morning I’ll inspect the halls of residence, just to leave no stone unturned, and get keys to the changing-rooms. I’m beginning not to like the look of things, and that’s a fact.”

W
ell,” said Henry on the following morning, “there seems to be nobody in the stoke-hole, or anywhere else we thought of. If Jones doesn’t turn up at lunch I shall speak to Gassie and get him to utter threats.”

“What sort of threats?” asked Hamish.

“That is up to him. Expulsion of ringleaders, I suppose, although I do hope it won’t really come to that. The threat may be sufficient to bring them to their senses.”

“Who
are
the ringleaders?”

“One can do no more than guess, at this juncture. After all, there are those among us who have grievances, are there not?”

“Yes, but the chief sufferers from Jones’s machinations are still in hospital.”

“How do we know they’re the chief ones? There may be others. In fact, we know there are.”

“Good Lord! You don’t suppose Barry or Lesley would be a party to a student rag, do you?”

“No, of course not. Anyway, we’ll hope to goodness Jones shows up at lunch, that’s all.”

Jones was not at lunch. Henry, looking worried, left his seat at the high table, got out his car and drove to the village to make certain that the missing man had not decided upon a snack and a drink at the public-house which was his frequent haven. He drew blank, as he had expected to do, returned to College and caught up, as best he could, with his meal.

The students were unusually quiet. Such talk as went on was in undertones. There was an air of conspiracy about the place.

“Have you been to see Gassie? Does he know that Jonah is still missing?” Hamish asked when Henry had re-seated himself at the high table.

“I’m going to see him directly after lunch. I’m beginning to hope that the students will have freed Jones and that he’s decided to sling his hook, after all. There
was
that rumour, you know, that he had resigned.”

“I thought it had been scotched, and by Medlar himself.”

“I know. And, of course, Gassie, I feel certain, would be loth to ask Jonah to go. I have an idea that, apart from being his brother-in-law, Jones has some special reason for having earned Gassie’s gratitude. What it is I don’t know and should never attempt to find out, but, shortly before you came, Miss Yale and I made representations to him to get rid of the mischievous, unpleasant fellow. Some of the women students had tackled us about his little ways, you know. It was then that Gassie told me privately that he owed Jones a living and could never sufficiently indulge him for something he had done for him in the past. Personally, I cannot visualize Jones’s doing anything for anybody unless he had to, but one never knows, of course, and therefore one should not judge, I suppose.”

He was about to rise from the table to pronounce the customary Latin grace when Richard, flushed and sweating, came up to the high table and said,

“Would you make an announcement, Harry boy?‘

“Now?” asked Henry.

“Well, everybody seems to be here except Gassie.”

“And Jonah,” said Henry, glancing towards Jones’s vacant chair.

“Well, that’s it,” said Richard. “They shoved Jonah down the stoke-hole. We’ve just been along to get him out. He isn’t there. They didn’t leave him any more grub after yesterday, so you might ask the chaps who’ve moved him whether they’ve fed him or not. Nobody wants the poor poop to starve to death.”

“I think you’d better speak to Mr. Medlar,” said Henry formally, “but, as he isn’t at lunch, I’ll make an announcement if you like.” He rose and tapped on the table. “Look,” he said to the students, “a joke’s all right, but it might be as well to produce Jonah and let him eat. No questions will be asked, provided he makes his reappearance immediately this meal is over.
Benedicam dominum. Amen
.”

There was a stir among the students and a girl called out, “Nobody here knows where Jonah is. There were six of us in it. We’re prepared to give you our names. Nobody else is involved. We intended to let him out last night after dinner, but when we went along he wasn’t there.”

“He was there up to tea-time yesterday,” said a boy, leaving his place and walking round to stand beside the girl. “I spoke to him and told him all the reasons why we’d dealt with him, and I let him know when he’d be released. He couldn’t possibly have freed himself. He cursed me pretty much, but he was perfectly all right, I’m sure of that. And none of us knows what happened to him.”

“The people concerned must come to my room,” said Henry.“ Come now, at once, please, before you go on to the field.”

The six students who entered Henry’s lecture-room consisted of the youth and the girl who had spoken in hall and four other young men. Henry civilly requested them to be seated and they took the three desks in front of his dais and the three immediately behind these.

“Well, now,” he said, “who wants to speak first?”

“Ladies first,” said one of the men.

“Kathleen, isn’t it?” said Henry. “Right. Fire away.”

“Well, we’re the committee,” she said. “We had a mass meeting after Colin got hurt. There was a lot of feeling about it.”

“A vote was taken,” said one of the boys, “and it was decided that something must be done about Jonah.”

“So various people got up and made suggestions,” put in another youth, “and the one that got the most votes was this belly-of-the-whale thing because it seemed appropriate and it sort of appealed to people.” He turned to a young man behind him. “Go on. Your turn. We’re all in on this.”

“Right, then. Well, it seemed a committee—an action committee—was called for, and the six of us were voted on to it. We only wanted one girl because of the rough stuff, Jonah being a gorilla when forced to defend himself.”

“It was a free vote,” said another boy in the second row, “but volunteers were called for who would be willing to serve, and there was a big response from the men.”

“Less from the girls, of course,” said the last to speak, “but that’s only natural. So everybody voted and the six of us were in. It was thought better not to have more than five men, because otherwise we’d only get in each other’s way.”

“And the lady? What was her part to be?” asked Henry. Hamish, who had accompanied him with some idea of helping him if the students got out of hand, admired his attitude of grave and non-committal interest.

“Well, rather important,” said the girl. “Somebody had to get the key out of Jackson’s cottage, so while Bill, John and Julian got Jackson out of the way by asking him to come and hold the stop-watch while they did a five thousand metres run…”

“Nearly killed us, incidentally,” put in Bill, “but we knew we’d better allow Kath a quarter of an hour to do her stuff, and even more if we could manage it…”

“So we strolled over to the track with Jackson. He’ll always hold the watch if he’s off duty and there’s no coach or one of the chaps or girls available,” said John. “And we took our time about changing down, and putting our spikes on, and warming up, and all that…”

“You shouldn’t have changed down until you’d warmed up in your track suits and were ready to begin the race,” said Henry. “You know that.”

“Oh, that’s all right, Harry boy,” said Julian. “We’ll remember. Well, then we stationed Jackson and started off, telling him to watch the lap times. That was just to give him something to think about, because his cottage, although a long way off, stands in the open and is visible from the running-track, and we didn’t want him to notice what Kath was up to.”

“It was my job to get busy on Mrs Jackson and get her out of the cottage, too, while Benjy and Shaun sneaked the stoke-hole key,” put in Kathleen, “that was the tricky bit. She’s a simple soul, like Jackson himself, though, so I asked her whether she’d counted her chickens that morning, because I was pretty certain I’d heard a fox bark in the night.”

“She fell for it all right,” said Benjy, “and the key, with its label, was hanging just inside the back-door next to the roller towel. We’d prepared a substitute key, of course—my Jewish intelligence thought of that; it was the key to my cupboard in the changing room, as a matter of fact, so I knew it wouldn’t be missed—we’re always losing them—and there we were.”

“Your film, Harry boy, was a godsend,” said Julian. “As soon as you announced when it was to be, we put Exercise Key in motion and the five of us waited to find out whether Jonah was going in to see the film, although we guessed rightly that he’d take the time off; so when he went round to the staff garages for his car, we collected him and took him along to the stoke-hole and bunged him in.”

“You’ve forgotten one thing, haven’t you?” asked Henry. The five men looked stolidly at him. The girl caught her breath and said, “No, I don’t think so. That’s the way it went, but now…”

“Now you can’t find him. Did you ever return the key to Jackson?”

“Of course not. We needed to hang on to it because we knew we were going to let Jonah out last night, as I told you in hall,” said Kathleen, “but when we went along, he wasn’t there.”

“I don’t see why you feel so worried. Somebody else must have let him out,” said Henry.

“How could they, when we’ve got the only key?” demanded Bill.

“How do you know you’ve got the only key? It is most unlikely that there would be only one key to such an important place as the stoke-hole, as you fellows call it. A nice pass we should all come to during the winter, if the one and only key happened to get lost. Of course there are other keys. There must be.”

“Well, supposing there are, and somebody got hold of one, what happened to Jonah? That’s what we’re worried about,” said Kathleen. “You see, he doesn’t seem to be anywhere about the place and yet his car is still here.”

“Oh?” said Henry, who had not thought of this. “Sure it’s his car? Oh, well, yes, you’d know, I suppose, although I
don’t
know how you expected to acquire access to any of the staff lock-ups.”

“Easy,” said John. “We followed Jonah, on the day of the film, round to the garages and when we’d got him impounded, we frisked him and pinched the key to his lock-up. That’s where we first thought of putting him, only we thought he’d make enough row for someone to hear him.”

“Well, you’d better give me the key.”

John walked up to the dais and handed the little key to Henry, remarking as he did so, “You needn’t worry, Harry boy. We couldn’t have gone joy-riding or anything. There’s only enough petrol in the car to get as far as the village. He hadn’t tanked up.”

“Probably intended to do that at the pub,” said Julian. “Here’s the key to the stoke-hole. You’d better have that as well.”

“Well, I’ll look into the matter with Gassie,” said Henry.

“No names, no pack-drill, of course. That’s understood.”

“What’s
really
worrying them?” asked Hamish, when the students had departed.

“My guess would be that the grape-vine has failed them. They honestly don’t know where Jonah is. That’s what’s the trouble, I fancy. This particular half-dozen have nothing more against him than lots of the others. I think they’re dead scared that someone
has
really laid for him, you know. What’s more, I think they must have something to go on. That’s why they’re in such a panic.”

“You don’t really think some misguided person has gone too far, do you?” asked Hamish. “Or could it be—yes, it would have to be—more than one? Jones, I mean—”

“Yes, I see what you mean,” said Henry, looking anxious. “It’s true that Jones is a powerful fellow. He’d have gone berserk when they let him out, so they may have—”

“Richard is the heftiest chap in the place, but I don’t think he had anything to do with it,” said Hamish. “He’s a guileless soul and I’m sure would have given himself away long before this if he’d had a hand in any lethal kind of rough stuff. Besides, he’s never had any particular cause to dislike Jones, has he?”

“No, but he’s a chivalrous sort of young thug, and might well take up the cudgels on behalf of somebody else,” Henry argued. “I happen to know, for example, that he has a great admiration for Lesley. If he considered her wronged, he might go to all lengths on her behalf, and we know that he came to Joynings with a reputation for violence. Still, as you say, he is a transparent person and would easily have been detected by those six we saw just now if he had released their prisoner and spirited him away—or something worse.”

“That’s the rub, isn’t it?”

“The fact that Jones has disappeared again? Yes, indeed it is.”

“When are you going to speak to Medlar?”

“I wondered whether we ought to institute another search before I do that. Jones—or his body—must be somewhere about. I think I will organize parties to comb the woods.”

“Well, I’ve at least an hour to spare before I need go to the pool. My squad can’t swim until they’ve digested their lunch. And that’s another thing. Don’t you think we ought to put our best athletes on some sort of a diet? My lot eat the same sort of food as everybody else. I’d like to see more steak and fewer fatteners.”

“I’ll look into it, but I’m not sure whether it would be popular to segregate the stars from the also-rans in that sort of way. Both sides might envy the other, don’t you think? I know Gassie is the pot-hunter of all pot-hunters, but I’d rather keep the lid on the pot—no awkward pun intended—than have it boil over on a question of food. Still, I’ll certainly bear it in mind, if you think it’s a good idea.”

“So, about this business of combing the woods; how do we get it organized?”

“If you’ll get Miss Yale to find out whether the women want to take part, I’ll go round the halls and collect a couple of dozen volunteers from among the men.”

“Suppose the first to volunteer are the chaps who actually know where Jones is?”

“I think we must chance that. They themselves may be relieved to have him found. The rag, if that’s all it is, has gone much too far by this time, and even the most vindictive must have realized it. If you are willing to help…”

“I’m sure Martin and Jerry will come, too.”

“Oh, good. Get hold of them, then, before you go to Miss Yale.”

Hamish found Miss Yale, Lesley, and a couple of women students still at after-lunch coffee in Miss Yale’s quarters. She refused point-blank to organize a band of searchers from among the women students. “The woods are out of bounds for them,” she said significantly.

Hamish was on his way back to the tennis courts, which had been chosen as the meeting-place for the volunteer searchers while they got their briefing, when he was waylaid by one of the servants.

“If you’re not busy at the moment, sir, the Warden would like you to see him.”

“Oh, in that case, go out to the tennis courts, Maisie, and, when Mr. Henry turns up, tell him I’ve got to see the Warden and will join him as soon as I can, but not to wait for me.” He could not think of any reason why Medlar should want to see him, but, accustomed and schooled to polite and instant obedience to authority, he climbed the magnificent staircase and passed along the balustraded gallery to the Warden’s study.

“Oh, James, my dear fellow,” said Gascoigne, when the young man presented himself, “did you ever get that cataloguing done?”

“Certainly, sir. The book is hanging in its case from a hook in the ante-room. There were several items which had not been listed in the previous catalogue, so I added them in what appeared to be the appropriate places. I hope that accords with your wishes?”

“Thank you, my dear fellow, thank you. Well, if you are sure that you have listed everything, I wonder whether we might check the items against your catalogue? Not that I think you will have missed anything, but just as—well, just as a check, so to speak.”

“There is a good hour before I am due at the pool, sir. The swimming squad have to digest their lunch, so, if it would be convenient for you, I could check with you at once.” (It would take a quarter of an hour, he thought, for Henry to collect volunteers.)

“That is extremely good of you, James. Let us begin, then. I cannot think it will take us very long. It is very kind of you to give up your time to my hobby.”

Hamish had noticed, as the term went on, a growing cordiality in the Warden’s manner towards him. He was not conscious of having done anything special to win Gascoigne’s approval and could only conclude that the man must have got wind of his close association, through his mother, with Dame Beatrice Lestrange Bradley. However, he murmured a polite and modest disclaimer that he was showing kindness to the Warden and followed him into the ante-room, where Gascoigne switched on the light and picked up the new catalogue which Hamish had written in Italianate script picked out with suitable, picturesque rubrics.

“Charming! Charming! Really, my dear James, you must have spent a great deal of your leisure-time on this extremely beautiful manuscript,” said Gascoigne.

“A pleasure, sir, I assure you. If you will read aloud, I will identify the objects as we come to them. I think I can remember where I placed each one.”

“Methodical in the extreme, James. By all means let us begin.”

One item, and one only, was missing from the tally.

“Strange,” said Hamish. “I know the javelin was here when I made my list. I remember noticing it particularly. I even remember exactly where I placed it.”

“Strange,” said the Warden. “Even the maid who dusts and polishes is only allowed in here under my own direct supervision. I suppose you have never inadvertently left the key in the lock when you vacated this room?”

“I have only been in the room twice, except for the time when you yourself introduced me to your museum at the beginning of term, sir, and you will remember that I handed you back the key each evening after I had made my list. I can assure you that the key was never otherwise out of my possession.”

“Of course not. Well, no doubt we have students here who are quite capable of picking a lock. Whoever it was must have had hopes of getting his hands on something of intrinsic value, I suppose. There are solid silver cups among the collection. In his disappointment at finding that everything valuable (in that sense) had been placed in the safe, I suppose he impounded the javelin as an act of defiance. A strange item to choose, but some of the people here are not very well-balanced, I’m afraid. If they were, the chances are that they would not be here, of course. Oh, well, I must look into the matter, I suppose. What a nuisance it all is!”

“Have I your permission to go, sir? I am due down at the pool fairly shortly.”

“Oh, by all means, my dear fellow. I may say, James, that I am delighted with the way you have taken to your duties here.”

“Thank you, sir. They are very pleasant ones.”

“You would not think of changing your plans and joining us on a permanent basis, I suppose?”