Reginald Hill

Already reporters were beginning to pester. Soon it would be anxious parents. Dalziel had already arranged with the local exchange that one of the college lines was to be kept completely free for his own incoming and outgoing calls.

“I’ve called a staff meeting for first thing tomorrow morning,’ said Landor. ‘ the staff are informed, it helps to cut down student rumour.” “Good idea,’ said Dalziel, uninterested. ‘ least I’ll know where the bugg … they are.”

“I wondered if you could perhaps spare five minutes. Just a statement, you understand. It could help.”

Dalziel laughed shortly and rudely, but stopped before translating the noise into words. It might not be a bad idea to see this lot as a group.

“Right,’ he said. I’ll try. Now listen, Principal, I’d like to get hold of … “

There was a knock at the door, Landor opened it. Outside stood Halfdane with Marion Cargo coming up behind him.

“Oh, you’ll do,’ said Dalziel. Halfdane, aware now of Miss. Cargo’s presence, stood back and indicated that she could go in first. She shook her head.

“Both of you!’ snarled Dalziel impatiently. Together. And if one of you is superfluous to requirements, I’ll decide.” Landor smiled wanly at his colleagues and left.

“I’m Arthur Halfdane,’ began Arthur. ‘ wondered if Sergeant Pascoe … “He’s away. Working. He has a full-time job. You’ll have to make do with me.”

Dalziel’s supporters claimed his rudeness was calculated; others, impressed by his record, were willing to concede it might be intuitive; Pascoe asserted it was merely digestive.

Whatever it was, Halfdane didn’t like it.

“No thanks,’ he said icily. I’ll wait till later.” “Please yourself,’ said Dalziel indifferently, looking at the young man’s long hair with distaste. ‘ presume you’re not withholding information relevant to our enquiries?”

“No. I merely wanted to ask something.”

“Oh. And you, Miss. Are you giving or just asking?”

Marion Cargo was obviously not reacting very strongly to external stimuli. The expression on her classical features was brooding, inward-looking. She would never have won a run-of-the-mill beauty competition, but she had a fascinating face and a figure which invited speculation.

Halfdane, who had no further reason to stay, made no move to go but looked at the girl with open admiration. Dalziel was suddenly conscious of his paunch, his bald patch and his shortsightedness.

He scratched his right thigh viciously.

“I’m asking, I’m afraid, Superintendent. It’s about Miss. Girling.”

Another! groaned Dalziel inwardly.

“Miss. Disney screamed it was Miss. Girling when those bones were dug up.

It just seemed absurd, and I thought it was just the result of this when I heard the students talking about it later. They, the ones I heard, were certain it was Miss. Girling.” Again, thought Dalziel. Interesting.

“But now Mr. Dunbar says he’s seen you and you confirmed it was. But I don’t see how … “

There was real pain on her face, Dalziel was surprised to see.

“You knew Miss. Girling then?’ Dalziel asked gently.

“Yes. Of course. She was very very kind to me. And it’s worse because of the statue somehow. If it was her, that is. But I don’t see how it could be?”

Dalziel turned on what Pascoe called his vibrantly sincere voice, with matching expression.

“Nor do we yet, my dear. But I’m afraid there’s no doubt. It was Miss. Girling’s body. I’m sorry.”

The girl shook her head in bewilderment. Halfdane began to usher her to the door.

“Come on, Marion,’ he said. ”ll buy you a cup of tea.” “One moment,’ said Dalziel. ‘ did you mean about the statue? Why was it worse because of the statue?”

Halfdane looked disapproving but halted, his arm supplying quite unnecessary support to Marion Cargo’s waist.

“It was my statue,’ she explained. ‘ designed it. I never thought … But who would want to kill her?”

Now there were tears in her eyes and Halfdane’s arm was not altogether unnecessary.

“We’ll find out, my dear. Never fret.”

The girl seemed to pull herself together and even managed a watery smile.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that it all seemed so long ago. Dead. And then it came back. That’s all. At the time it seemed like the end of everything.

And when Miss. Scotby didn’t get the job and we knew everything would be changed from the way Al wanted, I never thought I’d want to see the place again. But you’ve got to keep moving. I’m glad things are going forward instead of standing still.”

Dalziel nodded approval of this plucky-little-trouper philosophy but his thoughts were elsewhere.

“Miss. Scotby applied for the Principalship, did she?’ he asked.

“Oh yes. She was hot favourite. There was even a sweepstake and we thought whoever got The Scot was home and dry. But Mr. Landor ran home an easy winner.”

She was quite recovered now and disengaged herself from Halfdane with a small smile of thanks.

“Thank you,’ said Dalziel. ‘ good day to you both.”

He closed the door behind them and stood still for a moment, something Pascoe had suggested about the statue and something Marion Cargo had said almost coming together. But not quite.