Reginald Hill

“It was odd,’ said Pascoe. ‘ was quite happy to warn Cargo that we still had the letter, that’s why he came into the sickbay and asked about Saltecombe. But the minute he thought the letter wasn’t dangerous to her … ” “Yes,’ said Dalziel. ‘ saw her face then. And I remembered she was right on top of us when I told you I was going up to the Common Room. Also I had a sense of two other people being over me when I got clobbered up there. So when I saw Halfdane’s car making off, I wondered if she might not be in it also. So I put out a call. Poor lad. I feel sorry for him.” You sound it, thought Pascoe, remembering Halfdane’s face ravaged with shock and disbelief. You bloody sound it.

Landor shook his head in perplexity.

“It’s hard to believe … it has hurt us all in more ways than we realize, I think. When will it all be over?’ he asked.

“When someone decides we’ve got to the truth,’ said Dalziel.

“But you just said you have their statements, their confessions?”

“Which are very contradictory. It looked as if Cargo was going to crack completely at first, but she pulled herself together in the end. She’s too clever to go back to absolute denial - we’ve dug up all kinds of circumstantial evidence to tie them in together. We can prove they spent that Christmas together, for instance, so it would be foolish of her to deny it. But she’s hurling all the mud back at Roote that he’s slinging at her.”

“And who do you believe?”

Dalziel shrugged.

“Roote, I think. Mainly because he seems to have been motivated by something less or more than mere self preservation all the way through.

I don’t know whether this makes him a more or a less horrifying character. This is the way I read the story, though God knows if we’ll ever get the real truth.

“Roote and Fallowfield arrive together on that Friday in December.

Fallowfield’s a bit of a weirdo, king of the kids, one of your modern nothing-istoosacredorwayoutto-try philosophers who go down big with some youngsters. There was probably more than a touch of the queer there too. Anyway, they’re spending part of the Christmas vac together and Fallowfield, who probably persuaded Roote to apply for admission here when he knew he himself was being interviewed, drives them both up.

Roote has his interview. Is accepted. Even at eighteen he seems to have had a way with women, of all ages. He runs into Marion Cargo, practically the only student left in the place. She’s hanging on because she’s going skiing with Girling, remember. She’s three years older than he is, though I doubt if she was anything like as experienced. Perhaps enough to make things easy for him, though he’s obviously a very smooth operator anyway. By Monday, after a weekend of considerable delight, she is thoroughly infatuated. He asks her to spend Christmas with him - he was joining a party of friends, we’ve got all the details and the prospect pleases. But Girling has to be told. Just how much she was being the mother-figure and just how much she fancied her chances with Cargo for a romp in the snow, we’ll never know.”

Landor pursed his lips in distaste. Dalziel scratched his belly-button voluptuously and went on.

“Cargo gave me some story about Disney intervening: Disney denies it absolutely, though there’s probably just a speck of truth in it, enough for Cargo to build on. Anyway she goes along and tells Girling the trip’s off. Girling is furious, flies into a rage, cancels the bookings instantly, a kind of see-if-I-care gesture. Later that afternoon, after the governors’ meeting and Fallowfield’s appointment, Girling sends for Cargo again. Perhaps to plead with her, perhaps she has got wind of what’s going on and wants to put the bubble in, perhaps Cargo herself let something slip. Anyway, Roote is summoned to the presence also. When he arrives there is a full-scale fight going on. I’ve no doubt he quite enjoyed it. Anyway, his version is that finally Girling slapped Marion’s face in her fury. The girl retaliated by pulling her hair. It was a wig and it came off. Roote says he fell about laughing. Quite beside herself with rage, Girling flew at Cargo’s throat and she pushed her away so that she fell into the fireplace and cracked her head open on the sharp corner there.”

Dalziel pointed dramatically across the room. Landor stirred uneasily.

He had obviously forgotten that these events took place in this very room.

“Accidental death,’ he said. ‘ suppose that’s … “

“Well, it might be. But Cargo denies it and says Roote came up behind and struck the old woman on the head with the poker. I’m sure a compromise will be reached eventually.

“At this point, Fallowfield seems to have walked in. Whatever the truth of the matter he was given the accidental death story, I should think.

And the way a man with his kind of mind would see it, he had a choice between ruining or protecting the careers and futures of two young people, one of whom he obviously thought was very special. It’s remarkable how stupid you bloody intellectuals can be,’ he snorted.