Reginald Hill: An Advancement of Learning

It was almost possible to sense the switchboard girl’s disapproval of Dalziel’s free movement round the college.

He replaced the receiver and looked solicitously at Franny.

“Now, Mr. Roote, we’ve got a doctor coming to have a look at that bump on your head. Is there anything you’d like to say before he turns up?”

Pascoe expected some flip obscenity, but strangely the youth seemed to be considering the suggestion carefully.

“I could have got rid of the letter,’ he said inconsequentially. ‘ didn’t think you’d be so quick.”

“We’re lightning when roused,’ said Dalziel.

“I wish I’d read it now. Then I’d know what — not that it matters. I’m rather tired of it all. It’s about time I went off on a new tack. And Sam’s probably said it all.’ He laughed. ‘ was a great one for words, Sam. Ideas. But not so hot on action.”

“Perhaps you should try words for a change.”

“You may be right, lovey. Anyway, what the hell. We’ll see. There’s an old police proverb, isn’t there? He who talks last serves longest? I’ll tell you what, Superintendent. You’d better get used to me as a picture of misguided innocence. I’ll bring character witnesses.” He’s nervous, thought Pascoe. Somewhere deep down inside him there’s a little bit of fear fluttering. He doesn’t like to sit and wait. He likes to be doing, doing, doing. He likes to feel the initiative to action lies with him.

Dalziel obviously caught this feeling too. He looked uninterested, glanced at his watch.

“Well, we’ll just get the doctor to look at you. Then we can talk later at the station.”

He opened the door and stepped into the sickroom.

“Any sign of that doctor?” From the window the matron said, ‘ think that his car is coming down the drive now. Come along, everybody. I can’t have you all hanging around here. What will the doctor think?”

They began to move reluctantly, Halfdane sticking close to Marion Cargo, Landor patting Miss. Scotby’s elbow reassuringly, Disney walking backwards as though from a royal presence.

“Superintendent.”

The voice stopped them all. It was Franny standing at the office door.

Behind him Pascoe hovered, ready to pounce.

“Murderer!’ hissed Disney magnificently.

“Mr. Dalziel. When Mr. Saltecombe comes, may I be there when he opens his letter? I’d like to see it.”

Something about his intonation bothered Pascoe.

“I bet you would,’ said Dalziel. ”t worry. You’ll find out what’s in it soon enough.”

Disney snorted and left. Marion, looking ill after the strain of the evening, went out with Halfdane’s arm supporting her waist, followed by Scotby and Landor.

Pascoe watched them all go, vaguely disturbed. Roote had sat down again and was whistling softly to himself. Pascoe looked at him with great dislike.

When the doctor arrived he was accompanied by Constable Shattuck. Pascoe turned over his supervisory duties to him and went and joined Dalziel at the sickbay window, looking down at a sizeable group of students hanging round the entrance to the block.

“Landor’s talking to them. Not very successfully,’ grunted Dalziel.

A car coming up the drive had to bleep its horn to clear a path through the students. It was a silver-grey Capri.

“Halfdane,’ said Dalziel. Pascoe wondered how he knew. ‘ bloody cars.”

They watched it out of sight through the main gates.

“Get the doc. to have a look at you,’ said Dalziel and obediently the sergeant went through into the other room. Behind him he heard Dalziel picking up the telephone.

Roote had been pronounced perfectly fit, Pascoe’s rib had been strapped, though the doctor didn’t think there was a break, and Dalziel was just putting his shirt back on for the second time when Henry Saltecombe turned up.

“I couldn’t believe it when they told me this morning. Sam! I’ve been just walking up and down the beach all day.”

He seemed genuinely upset.

There’s a letter for you here, Mr. Saltecombe,’ said Dalziel sympathetically. ‘ have reason to believe Mr. Fallowfield wrote it. I would like you to open it in my presence, read it, and then permit me to read it. It may be relevant to my enquiries and the coroner too will want sight of it.”

Henry seemed to turn even paler.

“From Sam?”

“Yes. Sergeant, just hold that door firmly closed, will you?”

Pascoe took a tight hold of the handle of the office door behind which Constable Shattuck was watching over Roote.

Henry unsealed the envelope awkwardly, tearing it diagonally across the face. There were three handwritten sheets inside. He read them silently, once, twice.

“Here,’ he said handing them to Dalziel and turning away. Dalziel read slowly and methodically, then passed them over to Pascoe.

“Mr. Saltecombe,’ he said. ‘ word in your ear.”

They muttered in a corner as Pascoe read the letter.

“Well, that’s that,’ he said to Dalziel who shook his head warningly.

“Fetch Roote through,’ said the fat man.

Pascoe tapped on the door and Shattuck opened it.

“Bring him out,’ he said to the constable.

Franny stood framed in the doorway.

Henry took a step forward from his corner.

“You bastard,’ he said. ‘ slimy bastard! I hope they jail you for ever.”

Franny did not seem taken aback.

“So you’ve read it,’ he said, looking at Dalziel who held the letter in his hand.

“Francis Roote,’ he said. ‘ will be taken to the Central Police Station where you will be charged with the murders of Alison Girling and Anita Sewell. You are not required to say anything now, but anything you do say will be taken down and may be used in evidence. At the station you will be given an opportunity to contact your legal adviser.” The murders?’ said Franny disbelievingly. ‘ you can’t do that. Not… look, he must say… what does he say?”

He stepped forward to make a grab at the letter. Shattuck’s arms enfolded him from behind in a comfortable embrace.

“He just mentions you, Franny,’ said Dalziel softly. ”s a lot about you.”

The? Just me? The fool! The bastard! What did he… why… ” “Why not, Franny?’ asked Dalziel. ‘ not?” “Is it a bluff?’ he asked. ‘ it? What’s it matter anyway? Now. Just sit down and listen to this.”

He began talking rapidly. After a couple of minutes Pascoe jumped up, looked at Dalziel and motioned to the telephone. Dalziel standing by the window shook his head and pointed out.

Down the drive moving very sedately came a silver grey Capri. Behind it was a police-car.

Franny was still talking when the door burst open and Halfdane rushed in.

“What the hell’s all this?’ he snarled. ”re in trouble, real trouble, Superintendent. You’ve never known trouble like it… “

Dalziel ignored him completely. Holding Fallowfield’s letter before him like a cross held out to a vampire he went towards the pale slight figure standing between two policemen in the doorway.

“Marion Cargo,’ he said. ‘ am arresting you on suspicion of complicity in the murders of… “

He didn’t finish. She fainted beautifully into the arms of the policemen.

Only the ironic applause from Roote disturbed the beauty of the performance.

It took them forty-eight hours to even begin to tie the loose ends together. But by the end of that time they had done all that was necessary to do in the college. There had been little time to talk to anyone in the college about events and Cockshut was desperately trying to find some aspect of things which would give him another excuse for action. Pascoe was pleasantly relieved that they were going to get away before this blew up. He glanced at his watch now. He had promised Ellie that he would call in before he went. But Landor had come into the study while they were packing up and Dalziel seemed to be in the mood to offer explanations and assessments.