Reginald Hill

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.

Chapter 17.

… the unlearned man knows not what it is to descend into himself or call himself to account.

SIR FRANCIS BACON Op. at.