Anthem for Doomed Youth (20 page)

Then, why all the way to the maze? To delay discovery of the body, Daisy supposed. It might not have been found till it started to smell. Her nose wrinkled at the thought.

All the same, they would have risked getting lost in the maze – unless they’d visited it so often they knew every twist and turn. Perhaps they’d even drawn up a plan of it, so as to find their way easily to the privacy of the central space. Tesler was a scientist, after all, and scientists were always drawing diagrams, weren’t they?

Or the whole business might have taken place in Bridge End Garden in the first place. If Tesler and Miss Bascombe had lingered after closing time and seen Harriman spying on them … No rounders bat available though. Daisy couldn’t think of anything they might have found or taken with them that could be used as a weapon. It hadn’t even been umbrella weather.

All sheer speculation
, she thought with a mental sigh. She had built a house of cards on the couple’s obvious
inquietude
at the beginning of Meeting and Miss Bascombe’s present state of nervous tension. Doubtless they were on edge because of some minor disagreement.

While Daisy had been constructing her fragile edifice
of wild theories, Miss Bascombe was babbling away rather feverishly to Sakari’s sceptical ear about the importance of physical exercise. As Daisy’s house collapsed under the weight of her own scepticism, they reached the Sanatorium.

Miss Bascombe opened the door and ushered them in. ‘Ring the bell,’ she said, ‘and Sister will come. I do hope the girls are all right. Are you staying in town? To make sure they … haven’t caught anything really serious, I mean.’

‘We’ll be staying on at the Rose and Crown for a couple of days at least.’

‘Oh. That will … be nice for them.’ She scurried away without giving them a chance to thank her for her guidance.

‘I wonder why Miss Priestman sent a teacher to escort us,’ said Daisy, ‘rather than one of the children.’

‘Perhaps she feared that we might talk about Harriman. A teacher would be more discreet than a pupil about anything she overheard. Now, Daisy, you were very silent all the way here, and I bore with the young woman’s chatter to allow you to think in peace. Have you at last worked out who killed Harriman?’

‘Don’t expect miracles! No, all I’ve done is demolish a theory or two.’

‘I knew it!’ said Sakari triumphantly. ‘Later you will tell me, and we shall stick the shards back together. We cannot allow Inspector Gant to reach a solution before us.’

Daisy laughed. ‘If I hadn’t met Gant, I’d say you were being excessively optimistic. As it is, it seems as likely – or unlikely – that we’ll solve it as that he will.’

Against the wall stood a small table with a brass bell and a vase of stiff orange marigolds, their somewhat acrid smell faintly medicinal. Daisy tapped the bell.

Nothing happened.

After waiting for a few moments, Sakari sat down heavily on a chair, one of two on either side of the table. ‘I must take the weight off my feet. Perhaps the young woman is correct about the desirability of regular physical exercise.’

‘I’m sure she is.’ Daisy glanced about the entrance and spotted a door with a sign:
SISTER
. ‘Shall I ring again or knock on the door?’

‘Patience, Daisy. Perhaps she is busy elsewhere and cannot hear the bell.’

‘In which case, I’ll have to go and look for her. No, listen. I can hear voices in her room.’

She was about to go over and knock when the door opened. A small woman appeared, dressed in the uniform of a nurse, a dark blue frock with white collar and cuffs and a white, starched headdress. ‘I’m sorry, I’m busy,’ she said. She looked worried and more than a little vexed. ‘Would you mind waiting just a – Oh, you must be Deva’s mother?’

‘I am.’

‘And I’m Belinda’s.’

‘Thank goodness you’re here. Your daughters, and Elizabeth Germond, arrived a couple of minutes ago, saying—’

‘Mummy!’ Bel dodged past Sister and flung herself at Daisy. ‘One of the prefects said Miss Priestman said we had to come here immediately and not wait to get our things and we don’t know why because we’re not ill, and Sister won’t believe us!’

‘I’ve
tried
to ring Miss Priestman but she doesn’t seem to be in her room—’

‘I wish Mummy had stayed,’ said a forlorn little voice, as Deva rushed to hang on Sakari’s arm.

‘Lizzie, darling, your mother knew we’d take care of you, Mrs Prasad and I, and she felt she ought to go home to your little sister and brother.’

‘Oh.’ Lizzie bit her lip. ‘I expect my father would have been annoyed if she had stayed. He doesn’t like it when she’s away.’

Daisy and Sakari exchanged a glance. Both their husbands had given up trying to dictate their movements long ago.

Daisy gave Lizzie a hug.

‘We shall stay in Saffron Walden for as long as you need us, Elizabeth,’ Sakari assured her.

‘Would someone kindly explain to me just what’s going on?’ enquired Sister, with a touch of impatience. ‘Are these children ill or are they not?’

‘Not,’ five voices assured her.

‘Could we go into your office, Sister?’ Daisy suggested. ‘I’ll explain what I can, though I’d better leave it to Miss Priestman to give you what details she thinks appropriate.’

Sister turned back into her room, her back as stiff as her headdress. She sat down behind her desk, while Daisy and Sakari took the other two chairs, Sakari with one arm round Deva, Daisy with both arms occupied.

Daisy continued, ‘The girls had a very disturbing experience this morning, especially Lizzie. We, including Miss Priestman, are concerned that they may suffer
aftereffects
. Nightmares, and so on,’ she said rather vaguely. ‘Sort of like shell-shock. Also, Miss Priestman’s naturally anxious that they shouldn’t talk to the other children about what happened.’

‘Mummy, we wouldn’t! The policeman said not to talk to
any
one.’

‘Policeman!’ Sister exclaimed. ‘Very well, I’m sure I don’t want to pry into police business. But the girls arrived without a note from Matron, or their night things, or a change of underwear, or their toothbrushes, or anything at all.’

Deva piped up. ‘Bella Sadler told us Miss Priestman said to run down right away. She’s a prefect, so we did, even though it was beginning to rain and we didn’t have our coats.’

‘You’ll all be coming down with colds next!’

‘It wasn’t raining hard,’ said Lizzie. She felt her shoulders. ‘I’m not even damp anymore. Mrs Fletcher, do you really think I’m going to have nightmares?’

‘I shouldn’t think so,’ Daisy said cheerfully. She felt that expecting nightmares would probably ensure having them. Perhaps she ought to have talked to the nurse without the girls present, but then they’d have been worrying about what was being said behind their backs.

Sister was still worrying about practicalities, such as obtaining the girls’ clothes, ordering their tea – the hour
for which was fast approaching – and whether she could squeeze all three into the two-bed isolation ward upstairs. ‘Because I have four in the main girls’ ward already, two asthmatics, an upset tummy—’

‘You need not concern yourself with tea, Sister,’ Sakari interrupted. ‘We shall take our three into the town to eat. Such was our original intention and so we informed the school before coming for the weekend. May I use your
telephone
to ring for a taxi?’

With obvious relief, Sister agreed. ‘That would give me time to get everything organised,’ she said. ‘I really must have a word with the headmistress …’ She started making a list.

The girls voted for the Cross Keys again for high tea. Their appetites didn’t appear to have suffered from their disturbing experience, nor from the picnic lunch they had avidly consumed immediately thereafter. Daisy and Sakari kept the conversation turned away from the Bridge End Garden and what had happened there.

Afterwards, Sakari had a taxi summoned to take the trio back to the San, though they would have been quite happy to walk up the hill. Even Lizzie was cheerful, looking
forward
to missing classes for a day or two.

Waving goodbye as the taxi drove off, Daisy said, ‘I’d be surprised if their teachers don’t set them work to do. At my school, one had to be at death’s door to avoid lessons. I didn’t want to depress their high spirits by warning them.’

‘I am glad Miss Priestman thought to send them to the Sanatorium, and that Sister will arrange for all three to share a room. It is better not to wake alone from a nightmare.’

‘Much. And speaking of nightmares, I really don’t want
to go back to the Rose and Crown yet, in case Gant is lying in wait. I was thinking of strolling over to the church for Evensong. When we passed by this morning, it sounded as if they have good music. Will you come with me? You
survived
Meeting, and if we sit at the back, you needn’t worry about all the goings-on, the kneeling and standing and so on. It’s no farther to walk than back to the Rose and Crown.’

‘But it is uphill, Daisy. In the rain! And I would like to
discuss
your theories. We can instruct the hotel people not to tell anyone we have come in, and go up to one of our rooms.’

‘Gant’s a policeman. They might feel obliged to tell him.’

‘This is true. Not everyone possesses your blithe
insouciance
when it comes to concealing information from the police.’

‘Blithe insouciance? I’d have you know I quake in my shoes every time—’

‘Every time! You are hardened in deceit, do not deny it. Come, if we are to walk uphill to the church, we had better get going. I am glad Miss Bascombe forgot to take the umbrellas with her, so that we were able to borrow them.’

‘She was in no state to remember them. It’s odd … But we’ll talk about that later.’

The interior of St. Mary’s –
Perpendicular
, Daisy thought, though she was a little vague about architecture – and the music were well worth dragging Sakari up the hill. Daisy decided she would definitely propose an article on Saffron Walden to Mr Thorwald, her American editor.

They returned to the Rose and Crown for dinner. DI Gant was not lying in wait, but as they reached the pudding course, a message was brought to them: he had arrived and wanted to see Daisy.

Daisy was speechless. She had thought herself safe for the day, though she should have considered the irregular hours worked by detectives. Somehow she hadn’t expected Gant to stay on the job late. After all, he had abandoned the triple burial site before Alec even arrived there.

Sakari spoke for her. ‘Tell the inspector that Mrs Fletcher will receive him when she has finished her dinner.’

‘I’ve lost my appetite,’ said Daisy, pushing away her
enormous
slice of sponge cake layered with fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

‘Nonsense, Daisy. It will do him good to wait. If you let him spoil your meal, you give him a victory.’

‘We can’t have that.’ Daisy took another look at the cake and decided it was still irresistible – worth lingering over, in fact. She savoured every bite.

After a twenty-minute wait, Detective Inspector Gant was even more irritable than earlier in the day. When Daisy and Sakari joined him and his silent acolyte in the writing room, he said rudely, ‘I don’t need Mrs Prasad.’

‘But I do,’ said Daisy. ‘I’d be extremely uncomfortable shut up alone in here with two men who are virtual strangers.’

‘But we’re police officers, madam!’

‘So is my husband. Perhaps I should send for him to come and—’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Gant conceded with a martyred air. ‘Mrs Prasad may stay.’

As Sakari had already sat down and looked singularly immoveable, he had little choice, short of arresting her for obstruction. It was a near thing, though, when a waiter brought in the ladies’ coffee, and Sakari decided she wanted a liqueur with it. Daisy was sure she was just being awkward,
and she guessed Gant realised it, too. His face turned an interesting shade of mauve.

‘Daisy, will you have something? A Drambuie? I know it’s your favourite.’

‘Lovely, thank you.’ Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. She could do with a bracer.

So Gant had to wait for the waiter to go off and return before he could start the interview. He paced round and round the writing table till Sakari said, ‘Do take a seat, Inspector. You are making me quite dizzy. If you insist on disturbing us at this hour, you must take us as you find us.’

‘It’s only nine o’clock! And may I point out, I’d no intention of disturbing
you
.’ He sat down. ‘
You’re
at liberty to leave!’

‘Do you imagine I could rest easy,’ Sakari said soulfully, ‘while you interrogate my dearest friend?’

Daisy frowned at her irrepressible friend. Sakari sighed and fell silent. The waiter came in with the liqueurs and poured out their coffee.

‘Anything else, madam?’

Sakari opened her mouth. Daisy and Gant waited on tenterhooks, but all she said was, ‘No, thank you. That will be all. For now.’

Gant pursed his lips but managed to contain himself in the face of the final provocation. ‘Mrs Fletcher, all I want is for you to go over again exactly what you saw and did when you found the body.’

‘If you’re hoping I’ll remember some clue I didn’t
mention
before, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. But here goes.’

Once again, the way he had worded his request allowed
her to leave the girls out of her story. She began with the moment when she had turned the corner and seen Harriman lying there. As far as she was aware, she didn’t add or alter any significant details. Gant, checking her recital against the constable’s report and the notes his subordinate had taken first time round, was obviously as disappointed as Daisy had predicted. Had he expected she would suddenly remember having come across a cudgel, nicely adorned with fingerprints, and tidied it out of the way, into the hedge?

‘As soon as I’d made sure he was past needing help, I left. I’m afraid I didn’t notice any footprints or cigarette ends, or helpful scraps of cloth caught in the hedges as the gardener guided me out of the maze.’

‘Ah yes, the gardener: did he look at the body, examine it, touch it?’

‘No, he refused to go round the corner. He couldn’t see it from where he was.’ Daisy hardly dared to breathe. Surely he must be wondering about the sequence of events, just when the gardener had come upon the scene, how she had
summoned
him if she was lost in the maze, all the questions she didn’t want him to ask.

Apparently not. ‘Fishy,’ said Gant. ‘He wouldn’t look at it; he won’t talk about it; what has he got to hide?’

‘You suspect the gardener?’

‘He’s on the spot. His cottage is just off the footpath to the Garden, so he wouldn’t have to be traipsing all over town. He can find his way about the maze. He’s strong enough – all that digging. He has a shed full of tools, lots of ’em with handles that could have inflicted the blow.
Had
, I should say. We’ve taken them away to be examined.’

‘But what motive could he possibly have had?’

Gant laid his finger against his nose with a sly look. ‘From what I hear, the deceased had a nasty habit of insulting people. Bullying sort of a bloke, picked on them that couldn’t fight back. The Garden’s open late on Saturday
evenings
in the summer. Who’s to say he didn’t go there after this sports day affair and pick a quarrel with the gardener? Threatened to report him for sitting down on the job. Insulted his marrows, maybe!’

‘That’s awfully hard to believe.’ Daisy hoped she wasn’t going to have to correct the inspector’s misapprehensions in order to save the gardener’s skin. Actually, though, nothing he had said or done contradicted the theory. He had been extremely unwilling to go to the maze, only agreeing when she told him the police had been sent for. ‘It seems so unlikely that Harriman would have gone there after a very busy day.’

‘He ended up there, didn’t he?’ said Gant irrefutably.

‘Is the gardener your only suspect?’ Daisy asked, not really expecting an answer.

But he was in a chatty mood. ‘Like you said, there’s a lot of people we’ve got to sort out, what with teachers and visiting parents and the older boys. Half the parents don’t live in Essex. That’d really make things difficult, except that hardly any of ’em stayed in the town overnight.’

‘Someone could have killed Harriman and then gone home. Do you know what time he died?’

‘Not yet. Nor I wouldn’t tell you if I did. Once I know, that’ll narrow things down a lot, of course. No good asking people for alibis when you don’t know the time of death.’

‘Very true,’ said Daisy.

Mistaking her ironic comment for approval, he preened. ‘Mind you, there’s another one I’ve got my eyes on, besides the gardener. Good, solid motive. I just can’t see how he could’ve done it. Got no legs, you see. One of the teachers, name of Pencote. D’you know him?’