Читать книгу The Murdered Schoolgirl: A Classic Crime Novel - John Russell Fearn - Страница 6

CHAPTER TWO

All unaware of the effect she had produced on her crime-sensitive Headmistress, Frances Hasleigh domiciled herself in Study F the moment she had freshened up and placed her belongings in the dormitory locker assigned to her by Miss Tanby. There were no studies for her until tomorrow, so until classes were ended for the afternoon she spent a little while tidying up the none too orderly study, a job she had just completed when Beryl Mather and Joan Dawson entered, their textbooks slung in leather straps over their shoulders.

“Well!” exclaimed the dark girl, throwing down the books. “A newcomer, eh? How are you? I’m Joan Dawson.”

Frances shook hands. “I’m Frances Hasleigh. Glad to know you both—”

Beryl Mather, thirteen stone of a girl, shook hands, too. “Call me Tiny,” she grinned. “Everybody else does. If you ever need my proper name, it’s Beryl Mather—”

Frances studied her big, round, grinning face—then she looked back at Joan Dawson. She was very different—slim, graceful, rather thin-featured, with expressive dark eyes and a general alertness of manner.

“I haven’t been here so long myself,” Joan sighed. “I’m not very struck on it, either. The nearest boys’ college is fifteen miles away and the cinemas all have ancient films. Buried alive, I call it.”

“Boys don’t interest me,” Frances said quietly. “If I have any male company at all I like intelligent men—full of brains.”

Joan raised her eyebrows. “Hmm.… Anyway, it’s time we had some tea. We can either have what we’ve collected for ourselves—no easy job in these rationing days—or else we can take what the dining-hall provides. It isn’t compulsory, like dinner. What’s your fancy?”

“Chicken and champagne,” Frances shrugged. “Otherwise I’ll share whatever you’ve got. I’ve had no time yet to do any shopping of my own.”

“Tiny does ours,” Joan smiled. “Food is about the only thing she lives for.”

“And a thin time I’m having!” Beryl objected, putting the kettle on. “Still, maybe I’ll keep body and soul together somehow—”

Joan laughed, but Frances Hasleigh did not even smile. Instead she turned and looked thoughtfully out of the window. Joan Dawson frowned. This new girl seemed to have precious little to say, and she was decidedly unemotional considering her surroundings were strange to her. There was rather an odd expression on her face, too, as though she were under some kind of strain. Pretty enough, however, with her clear grey eyes, fair hair, and straight features. Yet, somehow, there was something very mature about her. She had neither the poise nor the figure of a girl of sixteen—

“Where did you go to school before?” Beryl asked.

“Elmington High School,” Frances answered absently. “You probably never heard of it.”

“No, I never have,” Joan said. “Not that it matters—”

Frances looked from one girl to the other. “We three are more or less compelled to live together, so maybe I’d better make one or two things clear now. You won’t find me very good company. I talk very little and avoid contacts as much as possible. I do not like frothy young men, but I do like brainy ones. If you don’t pester me with silly questions, I shan’t pester you, and if you find I have odd habits and do odd things, that will be my own affair, for which I’ll take full responsibility. That understood?”

Joan frowned. “Yes, of course, but we aren’t the ones who can cause you much trouble. Don’t do anything to upset Miss Black or Tanny. They’re mustard—especially Black Maria.”

Frances said nothing. She had retired into that strange shell of reserve again. She resumed gazing through the window until a prod in the back reminded her that tea was ready.

“You’re a queer one,” Beryl remarked, taking her chair. “I never heard a new girl get things off her chest so quickly. Here, try the salmon-paste—or have a teacake?”

“Teacake,” Frances said absently. “And a drink of tea.”

Joan and Beryl exchanged glances, then presently it seemed to become too much for the sharper girl.

“Look here, Frances, if there is any sort of trouble you’re in, we’ll be only too glad to help out—if we can. We don’t mind you wrapping yourself up in yourself, but don’t do it too much, will you? It gets on one’s nerves a bit, and I’m a pretty nervy customer at the best of times.”

“I just want to think—and hard; and I can’t do it if you two insist on pestering me. Just leave me alone!”

“What’s to think about?” Joan asked, mystified. “In this place everything is done for you. We don’t think; we just obey—or Heaven help us!”

Frances ate silently for a while, then: “If I wanted to ask a pretty brainy man about the exact position of the star Sirius, whom would I approach?”

Joan set her teacup down and Beryl nearly choked over her sandwich.

“Why do you want to know that?” Beryl asked blankly. “Who cares, anyway?”

“I do!” Frances retorted irritably. “I’m simply asking a straightforward question. I happen to be interested in astronomy, you see—”

“The only stars I like are on the films,” Beryl said pensively. “Tyrone Power, and Errol Flynn, and—”

“Will one of you please answer my question?” Frances insisted sharply.

“You’re not a teacher, you know!” Joan said indignantly. “Answering your question, I should think Mr. Lever would be your best bet. Young—about twenty-four, waiting to be called up, and positively bulging with brains. You say you like that sort, so there it is.”

“How do I find him?” Frances asked quickly.

“You don’t! He’s only visible in the classroom when taking science. The rest of the time he is over on the staff side of the building. Very strict regulations, you know. Too many attractive young ladies about for any looseness.”

“Yes, I should think he ought to be able to answer my question very easily,” Frances nodded. “Thanks for telling me—albeit belatedly. Now to something else. How often is one allowed to leave the school? In the evening, I mean.”

“You can go to Lexham, the nearest town, once a week if you get a permit from Miss Black,” Joan answered. “Otherwise our activities are limited to Langhorn—the village. When you go to Lexham you have to be in here by ten-thirty. With Langhorn the limit is eight-thirty. Langhorn has a cinema, anyway, and that’s something.”

Frances gave a rather tired smile. “You were right, Joan, when you said things were slow around here. I like a bit of bright life now and again, so if at any time you wake up in the dorm and find a bolster doing service in bed for me, don’t be surprised.”

“Do as you wish, of course,” Joan shrugged. “But if you are ever caught breaking bounds, it may mean expulsion. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know. But I have my own reasons for being a roamer ”

“Not all the girls will be as loyal to you as we will,” Beryl pointed out. “We have our sneaks and tittle-tattlers.”

“I’ll risk it,” Frances said calmly.

Joan shrugged again and went on with her tea. It was no use trying to argue with this odd girl. So quiet and innocent, yet obviously knowing her way about, it was hard to read her. Certainly she did not behave with the usual self-conscious shyness of a new girl: she was entirely self-possessed.

“We’re going up into the solarium after tea,” Beryl said, looking longingly at the remaining cake. “Coming? Give you a chance to meet the others.”

“Depends what you do there,” Frances replied.

“Anything you want,” Joan shrugged. “Either lie in the evening sun and think out your future, or else have a bit of exercise with the medicine ball, dumb-bells, parallel-bars, or— Well, you can please yourself.”

Frances thought it out, then nodded—so some fifteen minutes later found them up in the solarium where several girls had already congregated. Some were writing letters; some were practising their own variations on physical culture; still others were sitting about and talking. But practically all of them paused in sudden interest at the sight of the new girl in the Sixth.

It certainly put ideas into the mind of Vera Randal, the head girl of the Sixth Form, to which position she had climbed mainly by literal force of arms. Tall and massively built, she came ambling forward as she saw Joan pointing out the various virtues of the big place.

“Who’s the little stranger?” she asked Joan.

Joan turned sharply and looked up at the big, domineering face with its thrush-like speckling of freckles.

“I’m Frances Hasleigh,” the girl herself said, quietly.

“Well, well—quite a high-sounding name! Know any tricks?”

“A few,” Frances answered, her voice still calm.

“Then don’t try them on me!” Vera Randal advised. “I’m the head girl of the Sixth Form and in case you get any queer ideas beforehand I’m telling you that. I have a way of dealing with shrimps like you if they try and upset my authority.… But you wouldn’t try and do that, would you?”

Frances did not answer and deliberately turned her back. The girls glanced at each other as Vera Randal’s face reddened.

“I’m talking to you! You! New girl!”

Frances turned languidly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you’d finished long ago. You are head girl and you don’t allow shrimps like me to block your path. All right. Now what do we do?”

Breathing deeply, Vera gazed at the cynical grey eyes; then suddenly she looked round on the others.

“Impudent for a new kid, isn’t she?” she sneered. “But she’ll learn! All right, it’s time for our usual half-hour’s ultraviolet. Come on, everybody!”

There was a general scurrying to the dressing rooms. Joan caught Frances’s arm tightly.

“Come on, Frances—this way. It will tone you up a bit. You have a pretty pale skin, come to think of it—”

“Just a minute!” Frances shook herself free. “What exactly are we going to do?”

“Take sunray treatment. There are the machines over there by the wall. Ultraviolet. It’s grand stuff if you know how to use it—”

“Not if I know it!” Frances said abruptly, her mouth setting firmly—then she looked round as the big hand of Vera Randal fell on her shoulder.

“Won’t do, newcomer!” she announced. “We all do it, and My Lady Highbrow isn’t going to be the exception! Come on and get into a swimsuit—”

“I said I wasn’t going to!” Frances retorted. “Just leave me alone!”

“I don’t stand disobedience, especially from a new kid!” Vera snapped. “And you’re going to do as I say!”

With that she whirled Frances forward resolutely, but the girl did not go very far. Suddenly she halted herself, turned round, and caught the big girl by the wrist. Before she knew what was happening Vera had whirled round, over Frances’s head, and landed with a terrific thump on the floor matting.

“Sorry,” Frances said, straightening up, “but I meant what I said. I am not going to take ultraviolet treatment—”

She headed towards the door, then, as she reached it, she paused and looked back.

“That’s one of my tricks,” she explained drily, smiling at the astonished, dishevelled Vera. “Jujitsu. Why don’t you try it yourself some time?”

“Of all the confounded…,” Vera breathed, then she blinked as the door closed sharply and Frances departed.

* * * *

Mr. Robert Lever, aged twenty-four, proud of his moustache and his prowess in the various branches of science, was deep in Einstein’s Relativity when there came a gentle knocking on his study door. He looked up, put on the plain-lensed glasses he wore to convey a more mature aspect, straightened his ruffled black hair, then bade the visitor enter.

He tried to imagine who it might be at this hour of eleven-thirty. Surely none of the domestics, and even less likely to be a teacher—

To his astonishment a pale-faced, blonde-headed girl came in, a light blanket coat enveloping her slender figure up to her chin, just as though she was prepared for some kind of pretty cold vigil.

“Mr. Lever?” she asked, closing the door.

“Why, yes. I—er—” He stopped and looked at her anxiously. “I am afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you before. And I think I ought to tell you that this is a dangerous violation of the college rules.”

“Yes—I know. I’m Frances Hasleigh, a new pupil here. I want to ask you a question. I’m told that you are pretty good at astronomy.”

“Well, I know a little about it, certainly. But—but you can’t come here like this! If it were found out, I’d lose my position—”

Frances smiled with her colourless lips. “Since you are liable to be called up soon, would that matter anyway? Wouldn’t you rather help a much puzzled girl even if it means the risk of discharge?”

He looked at her fixedly as though trying to imagine what she meant—then, struck with a thought, he went over and locked the door.

“This is really terrible,” he said, returning to face her. “If you want to ask me a question do so in a whisper, and then go! Now, what is it?”

Frances seated herself with a certain air of possession. And looking at her there were few thoughts of science left in the mind of Robert Lever. He knew only two things—that he was in decided danger and that she was extremely pretty.

“Mr. Lever,” she said, “I want to know the position of Sirius.”

“Good Heavens!” he exclaimed blankly.

Frances raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t it a natural question for a student of astronomy to ask?”

“Oh, yes, I suppose it is—but at eleven-thirty at night when you should be in your dormitory.… I can show you a stellar map giving its exact position at this time of the year. Or I can draw you a design if you wish.” Lever turned to his desk and began to rummage. “Hmm—how annoying. I must have left my fountain-pen in the form room again.…”

“Don’t you think it better, Mr. Lever, if you showed me the star in the sky itself?” Frances murmured. “It’s a glorious night, and with everything blacked out it helps the study of the stars enormously.”

“Does it?” he asked weakly, glancing at the curtained window.

“I don’t think a window view would be much use,” Frances said. “The buildings will hide the view a lot. We’ll have to go into the quadrangle. After all, it won’t take a minute to solve my little problem.”

“But, hang it all, Miss—er—Hasleigh, why do you want to know such a thing anyway?”

“Just interest,” Frances shrugged. “And because I am a pupil in a seat of learning I expect you to help me. If you don’t.… Well, of course, I could hint to Miss Black that I had been here and—”

“I’ll show you with pleasure!” Lever interrupted hastily, and realized now why she was so wrapped up. She had obviously planned beforehand to reach her objective. So he got into his own coat, opened the door softly, and peered down the dimly lit corridor.

“Nobody saw you come here?” he whispered.

“Not so far as I know. I had to find my way with a torch, but I had a pretty good idea where your study was—”

“This way,” he said, and, taking her arm, he led her silently down the corridor and so finally out into the quadrangle. It was dark, starlit, surrounded by the blacked-out mass of the college buildings.

“Now, which is it?” Frances asked, looking skywards.

“There!” Lever pointed upwards and the girl angled her head closer to him, apparently to get in line with his hand. Finally, as she searched in vain, he caught her shoulder and moved her towards him gently.

“There! See? Right between those two stars—”

Then he broke off in horror at a sudden cough from the gloom. A torch gleamed into life and behind it was a dim figure. Lever was on the point of making a dash for it, but the girl caught his arm tightly.

“I hope, Mr. Lever, that you have a satisfactory explanation for this conduct?”

The voice was acid, and the figure behind the torch proved to be Miss Tanby, an overcoat thrown hastily about her shoulders. She flashed the beam into both faces steadily.

“I—er—I don’t know,” Lever gasped helplessly.

“I see. Then perhaps you will have time to clear your mind a little by the time we reach Miss Black’s study. Come with me, please—both of you, Fortunately Miss Black has not yet retired—”

The dazed science master and Frances Hasleigh were escorted across the quadrangle to the School House. It had all happened so swiftly that Lever just did not know what he was doing; but Frances, for her part, did not seem to be in the least worried. The most concerned over the business was clearly Miss Tanby. There was even triumphant glee in the way she knocked on the door of Maria’s study.

“Come in!” she bade imperiously, and the three entered to find her reclining in the armchair holding a volume entitled A.B.C. of Tracking. She laid it aside at the vision confronting her.

“Why, Miss Tanby, whatever is wrong?”

“I don’t want to think the worst, Miss Black, but unfortunately I have to,” the Housemistress replied. “Not twenty minutes ago Vera Randal came to my study and informed me that she had seen Hasleigh here leaving the dormitory, putting a bolster dummy in her bed. I felt it my duty to look into it immediately. I had hardly reached the quadrangle before I found Hasleigh here with Mr. Lever. And—and they were…well, embracing!”

“I deny that!” Lever retorted. “I was merely showing the young lady the exact position of Sirius.”

“So Vera Randal was awake, eh?” Frances murmured, reflecting. “I wasn’t quite sure—”

Maria rose, her face stern. “This infraction of the rules is bad enough in your case, Hasleigh—a newcomer to the school. But it is far worse in yours, Mr. Lever! You are fully conversant with the regulations. What is your explanation?”

“I have already given it, Miss Black,” he answered quietly. “This young lady came to my study about eleven-thirty with a request to be shown the exact position of the star Sirius. I suggested I could do it with a star-chart, or draw a design for her—but she insisted on us going into the quadrangle to look at the sky. So I showed it to her. Then Miss Tanby came up.”

“And what is this about an—hmm!—embrace?” Maria asked coldly.

“Just mistaken appearances, that’s all. I was trying to direct Miss Hasleigh’s eye to the right point in the sky.”

“Huh!” sniffed Tanby, then fell silent as Maria gave her a glance before turning to Frances.

“Well, Hasleigh, is this correct?”

“Not altogether,” she answered slowly. “I did ask Mr., Lever about the star Sirius, certainly—but when we got out into the quadrangle he started making love to me. I was trying to hold him back from kissing me when Miss Tanby came up—fortunately!”

Lever stared at her blankly. “I made love to you! But, good Lord, I never heard such a lie in my life! I—”

“You knew perfectly well that you had no right to leave your dormitory, didn’t you?” Maria demanded, and Frances nodded slowly.

“Yes, Miss Black, I knew it. But the Sirius problem was worrying me. And in new surroundings I didn’t feel I could settle, either. I wanted fresh air. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I could not see that I was doing anything really wrong. It was Mr. Lever here who spoilt it by his love-making.”

Maria reflected, fingering her watch-chain. Then: “Since you are fully aware of the rules, Mr. Lever,” she said, “I have no alternative but to ask you to leave this establishment. Your duty when this girl came to you was to telephone across to Miss Tanby and report that Hasleigh was out of bounds. You did not do that—and that condemns you. You will kindly make arrangements to leave within twenty-four hours, and I will communicate with the Board of Governors concerning salary in lieu of notice. I will not for one moment tolerate this fraternity between pupils and teachers of opposite sex. That is all.”

Lever clenched his fists and looked at Frances bitterly.

“I could take this better if you were not such a cheap, rotten little liar!” he breathed. “Many a man would slit your throat for this.”

“I will thank you to leave, Mr. Lever,” Maria said coldly.

He gave her one look, then turned and went, slamming the door.

“I’m sorry, Miss Black,” Frances said quietly. “I suppose I did transgress, but I never thought it would turn out as it did.”

“I am prepared,” Maria said, “to make allowances for your unaccustomedness to this college. Had you been here some little time, expulsion would have followed automatically. As it is, I shall levy the punishment of a week’s confinement to the school area in the hope that you will learn more clearly that whilst here you have got to obey the rules. If you ever transgress again, you know the penalty. Now return to your dormitory at once!”

“Yes, m’m,” Frances said, her voice low. Then, as she turned to go, Maria gave her pause.

“A moment, Hasleigh. Just why does the star Sirius so concern you?”

“Oh, I—I just wondered which it is,” she shrugged. “There is nothing more in it than that, m’m.”

“Hmm.…” Maria tightened her lips. “Very well, you may go.”

As the door closed Tanby moved forward urgently. “Miss Black, it’s not my place to question your judgment, of course, but I must say that I expected you would expel that girl. This deliberate infraction of the rules is probably only the beginning! A girl who will do that so shamelessly will probably do it again and again!”

Maria smiled faintly. “Surprisingly enough, Miss Tanby, I agree with you—but if I were to expel her, how would I do it? Her rather—er—peculiar father is probably out of the country by now, her mythical relations are nonexistent. As far as I can see, she has nowhere to live but here. If I were to expel her when she has nowhere to go, I would lay myself open to censure from the Board of Governors. I am bound by the same law as landlord and tenant: I cannot expel a pupil who has no home to return to.… With Mr. Lever it is different. I expect he will join up. If I had not discharged him, the Board would have reprimanded me.”

Tanby rubbed her pointed chin worriedly. “I wish I could make out what kind of a girl this Frances is,” she muttered. “She certainly does not behave like any ordinary pupil. So tremendously assured.… Why don’t you ask her about her dubious connections?”

“Chiefly because I have no legal right to do so yet—and also because she intrigues me.…” Maria sat down again at her desk. “To be truthful, Miss Tanby, I find it most interesting to have somebody peculiar right in my own college, instead of having to go and find them, as I did when I went to America last year.”

Tanby gave her a sharp look. “Miss Black, I do believe that you have kept this girl on here just to—to satisfy your whim for solving mysteries!”

Maria gave a grave smile and picked up her A.B.C. of Tracking again.

“The hour is getting late, Miss Tanby, and I have a chapter of this to re-read yet. I think perhaps we had better discuss again after a night’s sleep.”

After Tanby left Maria sat on reading a few minutes, then she lowered her book. Unlocking her desk drawer, she brought out a black, leather-bound book. In a moment she had it open, skipped through the pages referring to the murder of her brother in America, then stopped at the page she had headed The Hasleigh Puzzle. So far she had not made a very extensive entry—

A new girl has been enrolled today—Frances Hasleigh. Pretty blonde, a trifle cynical, and unusual in manner. Her father is even more unusual. Is sunburned, and yet it washes off! Hates ultraviolet machinery if it is to be used on his daughter. Has given me the names of relations which do not exist!

Picking up her pen Maria made further notes—

Frances Hasleigh has deliberately broken the rules and visited the science master, Mr. Robert Lever, at 11:30 p.m. She says the reason for her mission was to find out the exact position of the star Sirius. Does this mean anything? Have been compelled to discharge Lever and confine Frances to the school buildings for one week. This young lady definitely intrigues me.

Time of entry: 12:07 a.m.

“And somehow,” Maria mused, “I think it has only just begun. I am psychologist enough to know that she is not an ordinary schoolgirl. Not by any means! Manner, figure, deportment—they are all against it.… Most extraordinary! Most!”