The School of English Murder (18 page)

‘Did he come to terms with this?’

‘Only by the Cassandra method. You know. “There’s something not quite right about it. It’ll come to no good.” That sort of helpful comment.’

‘Did he hate Rich?’

‘Probably in a grumblingly resentful sort of way rather than with a white heat. He’d certainly have liked to see him come a cropper. Let’s say that if Rich had been murdered, I’d have put Wally high up, but not necessarily at the top, of any list of suspects.’

‘Mr Rogers, why didn’t you sack Wally Armstrong?’

‘Because of Ned. Anyone else would have got rid of him years ago, but not Ned. “Poor fellow, poor fellow. Where else could he go?” That’s what he would have said if I’d suggested it. I never upset Ned if I could avoid it, so Wally stayed. Anyway, he did a perfectly good job in the prefabs.’

‘But he was a thorn in your flesh.’

‘Only a small one. Into each life a little rain must fall, and all that, Superintendent. I’m a realist, been around, you know.’

‘He was an embarrassment with the students — those you call the BPs, I mean — wasn’t he?’

‘Quite frankly, Superintendent, so was Ned, but I didn’t murder him either. These were minor headaches that I had well under control.’

‘It’s been suggested to me that Mr Armstrong would have liked to see you fail.’

‘He’d have been a fool to welcome that. He’d have lost several thousand a year out of the profit-sharing scheme.’

‘A price he might have been prepared to pay.’

Rich shrugged. ‘Perhaps. It’s all the same now, isn’t it?’

‘It’s not really, Mr Rogers. It was an open verdict on Mr Armstrong, you remember. In view of what happened to Mr Nurse, the balance of probability tips towards murder.’

‘You’re quite right, Superintendent. Forgive me, I’m not myself. What else do you want to know?’

‘Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to give me a complete rundown on the finances of the school.’

‘Certainly, Superintendent. Where shall we begin?’

23

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‘Got absolutely nowhere with Rich Rogers about Armstrong. —Wouldn’t you agree, Ellis?’

‘ ’Fraid so, sir.’

‘Ellis, if you persist in calling me “sir” tonight, I’ll have you transferred after Romford to Stolen Vehicles. Come on, practise. “ ’Fraid so, Jim.” Let’s hear it.’

Pooley gulped. ‘ ’Fraid so, Jim.’

‘Who am I?’

‘A friend of Robert’s.’

‘Good. Now where were we?’

‘Drawing a blank,’ said Amiss. ‘Have another drink and tell me all about it.’

Amiss watched the pair of them attentively throughout the meal. He had felt apprehensive before their arrival, fearful that he had been wrong in putting pressure on them to meet off-duty. Milton had been in excellent form when he arrived, but Pooley began the evening obviously very tense. Amiss admired the way in which Milton had met the problem head-on: it was the right way to deal with Pooley. Obediently, he had applied himself to relaxing, and to Amiss’s delight, after two or three glasses of wine, Pooley actually criticised Milton without tying himself in knots of embarrassment.

‘There’s something important you forgot to do last week, Jim.’

‘What?’

‘I only realised it on my way here tonight. In fact we’ve both been downright stupid.’

‘Well, get on with it, for God’s sake.’

‘It’s less than a month since someone assaulted Ned Nurse, and we completely forgot about it.’

‘So we did.’ Milton chewed meditatively on his steak. ‘How in God’s name did we manage to do that?’ He took a sip of wine, set down his glass, shrugged and said, ‘Well, sod it. I always knew I wasn’t infallible; I’m relieved to learn that you aren’t either, Ellis.’

‘So what’ll we do?’

‘Pick it up on Monday, obviously. We’ll have to interview all those buggers again looking for alibis for whenever it was.’

‘We?’

‘You and me. I just had a call to say the course is suspended for another week. Those were some Scotch eggs.’

Pooley’s face lit up. ‘We should crack it in that time.’

‘Let’s hope we do, Ellis. Let’s hope we do.’

‘I’ve got news as well, chaps.’ Amiss began to open another bottle of burgundy. The cork broke and he swore.

‘Give it to me, please,’ said Pooley. ‘I can’t bear watching you. You open bottles like a teetotaller, not an ex-barman.’

‘I wasn’t working in your sort of pub, Ellis. It wasn’t a “Dry white wine and my friend will have a Campari” kind of establishment.’

Pooley inserted the corkscrew in the remains, gave a fluid twist of the wrist, and extracted the half-cork with a triumphant flourish. ‘Smartass, ’said Amiss, holding out his glass for a refill. ‘I suppose you learned how to do that on the playing fields of Eton.’

Pooley looked at him in alarm.

‘Don’t panic, Ellis. Jim knew anyway: he told me the other evening.’

‘How long have you known?’

‘Don’t know. Ages ago. Saw your personnel file. I’ve kept it quiet. I may not be an inverted snob, but there’s lots of them about.’

‘They still go on about toffs in the canteen. Toffs and snobs. Toffs are people from my kind of background. Snobs are those who had a good education. It’s been bad enough getting accepted despite having been at Cambridge. The thought of the puerile jokes if they knew about Eton…’ He shook his head.

‘Sometimes I wish I’d been to university,’ remarked Milton suddenly.

‘Why didn’t you?’ asked Amiss.

‘My school head didn’t know much about universities: only two or three boys a year went. He advised me to apply to new universities. I loathed all of them on sight when I went for the interview, so though I was offered places at two of them, I turned them down. I just couldn’t face spending three years living in the middle of a wasteland.’

‘You old aesthete,’ said Amiss. ‘I never realised what a traditionalist you were.’

‘Anyway, all that’s by the way. What’s your news?’

‘I’m leaving on Monday morning with Ahmed to spend a week on a health farm.’

‘You’re what?’ Milton and Pooley asked in unison.

Amiss was enjoying their reaction. ‘You heard. Health farm. Rich rang me just before you came. Apparently the school doctor has put the fear of Allah into Ahmed. Told him he’s got to get away from London and be looked after properly for a week.’

‘What’s wrong with him anyway?’

‘He’s having heart palpitations and pains in his stomach. He was convinced he needed surgery. Doctor Moskal reckons it’s over-indulgence in the fleshpots, not that he’d have put it that way to Ahmed. I imagine he’s told him his condition has been caught in time and that complete rest in luxurious and expensive surroundings will cure him.’

‘So where do you come in?’

‘He can’t possibly go alone. His English isn’t bad but he’d never be able to handle an institution full of strangers. He needs a minder. And who is there to go with him except me? It’s got to be a man. Kenneth won’t let Gavs go alone and Rich can’t leave the school. So it’s me. I couldn’t say no.’

‘So we’ll be without our snoop next week, Ellis. It’s all down to you and me.’

‘Ahmed’s still on the list, dammit. I’ll go on snooping, but in a more specialist way than usual.’

‘He’s paying for you, of course?’

‘Certainly. From what Rich says, it’s going to cost something in the region of a couple of thousand quid, apart from what he’s paying for the course anyway. The place the doctor uses is right at the top of the market. You must have heard of it — Marriners.’

Pooley looked impressed. ‘I certainly have. It’s for the fattest of fat cats, literally and metaphorically.’

‘I’m actually looking forward to it a lot. I’ve always been curious to see inside one of those places, but I was never likely to be able to go.’

‘Speaking of money, Jim, we haven’t told Robert about Rich’s finances.’

‘Quite right. You tell him.’

‘The school’s turnover last year was close on two million pounds.’

‘You’re kidding.’ Amiss did a rapid calculation. ‘No, you’re not.’

‘Clear profit last year was three hundred thousand. Rich and Ned had about three-quarters of that between them.’

‘You mean over a hundred thousand each?’

‘That’s right. And the year before they’d made nearly as much.’

‘Good God.’ Amiss remembered Ned Nurse’s squalid house with incredulity.

‘They each owned fifty per cent of the business.’

‘When was the partnership set up?’

‘Surprisingly not until two years ago,’ said Milton. ‘Rogers says he wasn’t prepared to take a share of Ned’s property until he’d earned it.’

‘Ned got a very good deal, then, didn’t he?’

‘Certainly did,’ said Pooley. ‘In fact Rogers seems to have behaved very well. From everything that’s said about him, it would have been child’s play to persuade Ned to settle for a much smaller share.’

‘What did he do with his money?’

‘Gave a lot to some Greek archaeological trust, according to Rich. Otherwise left it in the bank. His current account stood at a hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds. Can you believe it?’

‘Of Ned, yes.’

‘And he’s left everything to Rich.’

‘Who’s loaded already.’

‘Exactly. And he hasn’t gambled it away or anything. We have corroboration that he’s very comfortably off.’

‘When was the will made?’

‘When the partnership was set up.’

‘Sensible.’

‘Precisely.’

‘And what’s more,’ interjected Milton, ‘Rogers says he’s going to spend most of what he gets from Ned’s estate on setting up scholarships in his name.’

‘It’s all cul-de-sacs, this case,’ said Amiss moodily. ‘It would be quite nice to be sure anyone was murdered. Sometimes I think we’re just wasting our time.’

‘We’re not,’ said Pooley, ‘I know we’re not. I’m certain Nurse was murdered.’

‘But why?’

‘Don’t know. Maybe because he found out something he shouldn’t. There’s something funny about that place.’

‘We know that. But nothing worth murdering to cover up.’

‘That remains to be seen,’ said Milton. ‘Now stop upsetting Ellis and go and make us some coffee.’

‘Goodnight, my children.’ Amiss put his arms round the shoulders of both his departing guests.

‘Let us know how the picnic goes,’ said Milton.

‘Sure, but I expect it to be uneventful. I think Galina’s stymied.’ Amiss opened the door.

‘And enjoy Marriners. Take a good book or three.’

‘I will. That too should be uneventful. But I’ll keep you posted. You’ll do the same for me, won’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Oh, Ellis, one last thing.’

‘Yes, Robert?’

‘Remember not to call Jim “Jim” when you’re on duty.’

‘If he does, I’ll have the whole canteen singing the Eton Boating Song.’

24

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Amiss was staggered by how much work went into creating a picnic that met Rich’s standards.

‘Not your sort of thing this, old man, is it?’

‘ ’Fraid I was never much good in the house. The mater despaired of me a long time ago.’

‘Tell you what, you just do the fetching and carrying. I’ll provide the little feminine touches.’

Since it was those that were the most time-consuming, Amiss had finished his part of the work long before Rich. He sat in the sun and had a welcome half hour with the Sunday newspapers. Rich joined him shortly after midday.

‘Any advice for me, Rich, on how to handle Ahmed?’

‘Keep your temper, that’s the most important thing. And expect trouble round every corner. Won’t be a rest-cure, this, I can tell you. Don’t think Ahmed’s cut out for the quiet life.’

‘Should I take him on country walks, that sort of thing.’

‘Some hope. Have you a car?’

‘No. It’s not worth keeping one in London.’

‘But you drive?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then hire a car tomorrow morning at the school’s expense, Bob. That way you’ll at least be able to get him out of Marriners’ hair if he gets fractious.’

‘Thanks, Rich. Sounds like a good idea.’ Amiss reached across and plucked a few hairs from the shoulder of Rich’s jacket. ‘Plutarch, I presume.’

‘Little devil. She’s moulting and her hairs get everywhere. I spend ages brushing them off my clothes.’

‘I’ve noticed the odd one still lingering: they’re very bright orange. Getting on well then, are you?’

‘We rub along, you know.’ Rich smiled. ‘I never thought I’d get fond of a cat, let alone that cat.’

The doorbell shrilled.

The company was different from the previous Sunday. Galina had decided against inviting Alessandro, Davina or Fabrice: Gavs and Kenneth had had enough of Ahmed, so had refused to come again. For the first couple of hours Galina, Karl and Marcello were supplemented by Amiss and three comely, bright and good humoured young women who had come at Rich’s request. It was not until Ahmed arrived and began to haggle with one of them over a price for the evening that Amiss realised they were call-girls.

To begin with Amiss put up such a popular performance as the life and soul of the party that he managed to deny Galina any opportunity to get him alone. Then, to his dismay, cocaine made its appearance. Amiss speculated frantically about whether his image allowed him to say he did not take hard drugs: he concluded it did not. Galina had the first snort and then took command. ‘Come on, Bobby. You must ’ave some. It ees very wonderful.’

‘Sorry, Galina, I’m on duty.’

‘Nonsense, Bob. One of us is quite enough. Go on, enjoy yourself.’ Amiss could have killed Rich.

‘Sorry, I really can’t. I had to stop doing coke: it has a funny effect on me — makes me very violent.’ I put that badly, he thought. Probably turns her on. ‘And then I always get sick.’ Lest she had failed to understand him, he vigorously mimed vomiting.

Her face fell. ‘You are disappointing, Bobby.’

‘Perhaps I can help,’ said Rich. He fetched from his pocket another small plastic container and took from it a lump of cannabis and some cigarette papers. ‘Here you are. Have some of this, Bob, I know you like it. Go on, roll yourself a joint.’