Outside the door they heard voices raised in heated discussion. The door was suddenly opened and a little, balding man strutted in, pushing past Landor.
“Superintendent Dalziel? We met briefly the other day, you’ll recall.
I’m Douglas Pearl and I’m here to represent … “
“Pearl?’ bellowed Dalziel, successfully bringing the little man to order; then more quietly, ‘. Well, Mr. Pearl, the swine you wish to cast yourself before have rushed off elsewhere.”
“Mr. Dalziel! I must protest … “
“So must I. You weren’t asked in here. Well, what is it, Pascoe? Spit it out, man.” “He’s dead,’ said Pascoe slowly, replacing the receiver. ”s dead. On arrival.”
The words engendered a silence which spread through the room and out into the hallway beyond.
“How?’ asked Dalziel, no respecter of respect.
“It’s early to say with certainty,’ replied Pascoe. ‘ they’re pretty sure it’s a massive overdose of heroin.”
Chapter 15.
There is no greater impediment of action than an overcurious observance of decency.
SIR FRANCIS BACON Op. Clt.
Sunday morning dawned fine; had been dawning fine before most people in the college got to bed. The scent of the sea was in the air, evocative, invigorating; but it was obviously going to become over-warm later.
Pascoe thought he was probably the first person out of bed, but he gave all the credit for this to the makeshift arrangement of blankets and narrow mattress on which he had finally slept in the study. It was an unnecessary precaution, he was sure, but Dalziel had been adamant. Sheer jealousy, thought Pascoe gloomily.
He decided no harm could be done by having a quick shower and shave. He felt disagreeably grubby and dull witted.
When he returned, he saw that he was no longer alone in the world. Ellie was standing outside the main door of the old house and he felt a gush of pleasure that she had come so early to see him. Then he saw that she was pinning something to the door. A notice. He came up behind her without being observed and coughed gently. She jumped very satisfactorily.
“Oh,’ she said. ”s you.” “Good morning,’ he said reading the notice. It was typewritten and had obviously been run off from a stencil on a duplicating machine.
We the undersigned members of staff dissociate ourselves completely from the high-handed and provocative actions of the police force last night
‘”
It was dated and signed by about ten people. Some of them were only names to Pascoe, but others he recognized. Halfdane; Marion Cargo; and Ellie herself.
“That’s a bit unnecessary, isn’t it?’ he said.
Ellie shrugged.
“Halfdane’s idea, I’ve no doubt. You must have got even less sleep than I did.”
“It had to be done quickly. We thought if the notices were there for the students to see first thing this morning, it might help to cool things down.”
Pascoe laughed without humour.
“Cool things down! You’ve got to be joking! People like Cockshut will be delighted when they see this. It’s carte blanche for anarchy.”
“Piddle diddle,’ said Ellie lightly. ‘ are an old reactionary now, aren’t you? You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be young.”
He looked at her coldly.
“Don’t try to kid me, Ellie,’ he said. ”re no political animal.
You’d better watch yourself. It’s very easy for single women in places like this to mistake sentimental maternalism for radical idealism. But I don’t think you’re as far gone as that, though there’s always the danger. Then what is it you’re after? Pretty boy Halfdane’s approval?”
She slapped his face, almost dispassionately.
“You can go to jail for that,’ said Dalziel’s voice behind them. The fat man shouldered his way between them and read the notice.
“Bloody cloud-cuckoo-land,’ he said. ‘ all live in bloody cloud-cuckoo-land. Come on in, Sergeant. We’ve got a real job to do.”
Jesus wept! thought Pascoe as he went inside, not looking back at Ellie, what strange allies we find ourselves lined up with! Dalziel, Disney, Dunbar, Scotby, all the oldies, all the wrong reasons, but facing in the same direction.
“Bloody students,’ groaned Dalziel, once they got inside. ‘ social reform and young idealism on the surface, but give ‘ half a chance and they’re just young criminals.” “Protest is hardly criminal,’ said Pascoe mildly.
“Not protest, no. But I’ve just been talking to Landor. The stuff that’s missing from the admin, block! I warned ‘. Mostly small stuff, but a typewriter’s gone. And some bright spark broke open all three college posting boxes last night and tore up half the mail. Isn’t that criminal?
And the kind of thing they’ve scribbled around the place and left in typewriters for sixteen-year-old typists to find doesn’t bear repeating.”
He shook his head in what seemed like genuine bewilderment. Pascoe felt an impulse to cluck sympathetically but checked it. Dalziel’s gloom changed into a huge yawn.
“To hell with ‘,’ he yawned. ‘ doesn’t want us officially, so we’ll just stick to our brief. Now, the question is, do we still have a case to investigate or don’t we?”
“Pardon?”