I left the police station and turned my steps towards the college. I had found one additional viable motive for murder in the box of papers; perhaps I could find some others if I poked around Professor Headly’s office again.
When I got to the Classics Department, Miss Fenchurch was at her desk. I waved as I went by. She pretended she was busy with something, and I pretended I believed it.
Professor Headly’s office was just as I had last seen it. I closed the door so I wouldn’t be disturbed and debated where to start. I had already searched the desk, and I was certain Inspector Burrows had searched all of the other obvious places. So what was left?
I was still wondering where to begin when there was a soft tapping at the door. It wasn’t the sharp rap of a policeman or someone who knew they were allowed to enter, but I wasn’t sure who else it could be. I was still considering how best to answer when the door swung open a bit and a student peered around the edge. I smiled, trying to encourage him to enter. “Were you looking for someone?”
“No, yes, I mean I was looking for some missing tinkering notes, and I thought they might be here.”
I grinned. “Lost them at cricket practice?”
He laughed and came into the office. “You’ve heard that too, then? No, I’m not on the team, but my friend Donne is. He’s the one who lost the notes. He’s tried all the normal places where they usually turn up, but he couldn’t find them. He’d had a meeting with Professor Headly, so he thought he might have left them here. I thought if there was someone here, I could take a look.”
“When was here?”
“Friday morning. The meeting was at nine.”
So too early to see anything useful to Mr. Langley. “And you didn’t ask the police if they had found them?”
“I did. I didn’t like to bother the London man, so I asked Constable Winters, but he said he hadn’t heard of any being found.”
“When was this?”
“Monday.”
So the day before I’d received them from Mrs. Albright. “Why did Mr. Donne have your notes?”
“He was checking my calculations.”
That struck me as odd, but I could see he was becoming wary, so I shifted the focus back to the notes. “What did they look like?”
He pulled a notebook out of his bag. “Here’s some more of them. They were for my end of year project, so they’re really important to me.”
I leaned over and studied the notes. The handwriting seemed the same, and the drawings appeared to be the same style as the ones I’d been sent. “I think Inspector Burrows has them.”
“Really? But Constable Winters said he didn’t...”
I wasn’t sure how much I should tell him. “I happen to know he came into possession of them after Monday, so Constable Winters wouldn’t have known then.”
“But how... oh, police evidence, you can’t tell me.”
I shrugged. “I don’t want to get in trouble with him. I’m sure you can get them back once you identify them for him.”
He seemed to understand. “Then I guess I’ll go see him. Is he at the same station as Constable Winters or the main one?”
“With Constable Winters. You said Mr. Donne was checking your calculations. Does that mean he was a tinkering student too?”
“That’s right.”
“Then why was he meeting with a Classics professor?”
“I guess that is odd. I have no idea. Maybe the cricket team was volunteering for something again. No, that’s Professor Armstrong. Anyway, thanks for the help. If I can get the notes back today, I won’t be too far behind, and I can probably make up the time.”
“It seems a bit early to be worried about making up the time for an end of year project.”
“Oh, this is just the beginning. Once it’s approved, I still have to build it.”
“Build it?”
“That’s right. Or at least enough of it to show it could work. Some of us make things that are too big to build, like Robert and his steam-driven drilling machine. For mining, you see. Mine too, I suppose. It’s a safety mechanism for spinning factories. It further automates the process to filter the air and catch the lint, then felt it so it can be sold. That’s what will encourage them to implement it, you see.”
Something about that triggered a memory. “With all of these diagrams you submit, could someone else put together your tinkering project?”
“Of course. That’s why we have to submit them to our adviser. They have to look them over and be sure that the design is feasible, and we have the right materials for it, and we’re not going to blow up the whole school when we try it. They don’t mention the last one, but I do think it’s a priority.”
“I hope it is. So you’d have build-able plans how early in the process?”
“Well, it has to be built by the end of the school year, so we try to get them done before Christmas. Why?”
“Just a thought. If Graham Steamworks came out with a new product, when do you think the plans would have to be done?”
“That’s an odd question. I don’t know. When I was in my first year, we got a tour of the facility and they showed us plans for something that came out four months later. Does that help?”
“It might.”
He looked confused but left without questioning it.
I drummed my fingers on the desk, but really I had to stop trying to find something on Professor Graham. We had no evidence he was involved. There had been nothing in the blackmail drawer on him, nothing about tinkering notes, and nothing about the cricket team at all. And just because I disliked the man did not mean he was a killer. Wasting time trying to connect would not help Inspector Burrows solve the case or Mr. Langley get out of prison. Finding more evidence would. I turned to the bookcase. Perhaps Professor Headly had hidden something useful in one of his books. I got up and started to leaf through them looking for anything useful.
I was about a third of the way through the first shelf when I heard the door open, but by now I had gotten used to being interrupted while poking around and did not immediately suspect the ghost of Professor Headly. I did, however, recognize the young man who poked his head around the door. I’d seen him behind the circulation desk at the library. He looked startled to see me. Perhaps he was expecting Professor Headly’s ghost. I could only think of one reason for someone from the library to be poking around the murder scene, so I smiled and gestured for him to enter. “Don’t let me bother you.”
I stared at him in what I hoped was a friendly manner until he realized he had no choice but to come in. He glanced around the room trying not to look like he was trying to get a glimpse of the desk. Oh well, I didn’t really think I would be lucky enough to have someone lead me to a second cache of materials so easily. Maybe I could get a name for Inspector Burrows.
“I’m Miss Pengear. I believe I saw you at the library?”
Good manners took over automatically. “Mr. Winston. Yes, I’m there most days. Do you know where his papers are? I was looking for, um....” He fumbled for a lie.
I took pity and provided a suitable one. “Tinkering journals?”
“That’s right. Yes. Tinkering journals. I was looking for...um...tinkering journals.” It was clear from the way he said it he had no idea what tinkering journals had to do with anything.
“I’d heard some had gone missing from the library. I believe Inspector Burrows has all the papers from the office. You could check with him.”
“I suppose I’ll do that.” His eyes darted to the desk again. “You said your name was Miss Pengear?”
“Yes?”
He seemed to relax a little. “He telephoned you the night he died.”
“Professor Headly? Yes, but we were cut off, so I never found out why he did.”
“I’m afraid I was to blame for that.”
“You were?”
“Yes, I was dropping off some materials for Professor Brookwald and saw he was on the telephone when I passed by, so I reminded him that they would stop serving dinner soon. He put the receiver down to speak to me, and I suppose he forgot to pick it up again before you decided to disconnect.”
“I knew something distracted him. Did you discuss anything else, anything that might have suggested where he went after?”
“No, but Professor Graham might have. I saw him in the hall. I even joked to Professor Headly about him. Looked like he was searching for loose change like the students sometimes do.”
He seemed to think that was a capital joke. I managed to smile at it. “Thank you for clearing that up.” So no connection at all. “Where was Professor Graham? Maybe he was in a position to see something.”
“I doubt it. Like I said, it looked like he was going through pockets looking for loose change. The coat rack doesn’t have a good view of the offices, just the secretaries’ desks. But the subject of the telephone call. I mean, your check. It should be there. I saw him put it under the blotter before he left.”
The murder had taken up so much of my mind, I hadn’t really thought about being paid by Professor Headly, although if I had, I would have assumed the check was waiting for me in Mrs. Albright’s sitting room. “Thank you.”
But some of my confusion must have shown on my face. “You didn’t think he’d forgotten, did you?”
“That was why he telephoned the night he died? To tell me the payment would be delayed?”
“That’s right. Apparently he realized he'd mixed-up the envelopes and sent you something else. He didn't want you to be confused when you received it.” Mr. Winston edged closer to the desk, and I realized he was waiting for me to look for the check.
I gave him a moment to get in a position he liked then slid back the blotter to reveal absolutely nothing.
“Under the paper, not the blotter itself.”
I put the blotter back in place and removed the thick card from the leather corners. My check was there, right on top, made out to “Cassandra Pengear” in the amount of £3. There were a few other papers. I spread them out as I picked up the check, letting Mr. Winston look at them. I could tell by his disappointed expression none of them were what he was looking for.
I picked up the check. “Thank you for finding this for me.”
“Of course.”
“Inspector Burrows probably has everything else. Maybe your—tinkering journals are there.”
“Perhaps I’ll ask him.” He left the office, and I was quite certain he would not be going to the police station.
I scanned the papers under the blotter, but they all appeared to be notes Professor Headly had made to himself about appointments and things to remember to bring home. Nothing about blackmail unless it was encoded. Still, Inspector Burrows might be able to find some other suspect out of it. And I would tell him about Mr. Winston. Maybe he had seen something that would connect to the murder, or at least clear Mr. Langley. I left everything including my check where it was and collected up my things, intending to leave for the police station.
However when I got into the hallway, my plans changed at once. I ran into Inspector Burrows, almost literally, as he was unlocking the staff common room.
“Miss Pengear, why am I not surprised to see you here?” He grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.
“Nice to see you too. I’ve discovered who the tinkering notes I was sent belong to.”
“Then you’re not here to spy on me as I question Professor Armstrong?”
So that’s why he’d dragged me inside before I could say anything in the hallway where we could easily be overheard. “No, but now that you mention it...”
He looked more amused than anything. “I suppose since I was the one to mention it... You can take the chair there and let me handle the questioning.”
“Naturally.” I sat in the chair he’d indicated by the small desk, out of the way and leaving the chairs in the center of the room for the actual questioning. Inspector Burrows watched me warily for any sign I was going to interfere, but then there was a knock, and he turned his attention to his suspect.
“Enter.”
Professor Armstrong entered the room and went directly to Inspector Burrows. “You said you wanted to see me?”
“That’s right. Would you care to sit?”
Professor Armstrong did not know Inspector Burrows well enough to see the cold glint behind the polite words. He sat in the chair indicated.
Inspector Burrows reached into his pocket and took a piece of paper from it. I recognized it as the ledger page from the drawer, but he stared at it as if it were terribly interesting. I knew he was letting Professor Armstrong sit and wonder what was happening.
Professor Armstrong started to fidget after only a few seconds, picking at his sleeves and shuffling his feet. Finally, he couldn’t take the silence any longer and filled it with, “Have you found something more on Headly’s killer?”
Inspector Burrows didn’t look up. “Yes. We have a very good lead. We wanted you to have a look at it.”
“Anything I can do to help.”
“I was hoping you would say that.” He held out the paper to Professor Armstrong. “What can you tell me about these figures?”
Professor Armstrong stared at the page Inspector Burrows held out to him. He didn’t need to take it to see what it was. “All right, I did it. I stole. I’ve been stealing since...” He sighed and rested his head in his hands. “It started out innocently enough. My poor mother wasn't well. I had to send her to a warmer climate. I knew no one here would help me, just one more old woman needing care. Then they were asking everyone to raise money for the school cricket team again, and it seemed so unfair. My poor mother needed help, and here I was getting people to give money for a bunch of stupid uniforms that the boys could have bought themselves with their pocket money. And then I thought, why not get them to help? So I planned a charity dinner and sold tickets and asked the cricket team for volunteers since it was for their uniforms, but I marked down that they'd been hired. No one noticed, so I did it again for the rowing team banquet, and the new tinkering lab, and just like that, I had the money. Mother went to France, the school had what they wanted, and it was all fine. I even started to donate small sums of my own money to the school to pay back what I had taken, so really I didn't steal a thing to help Mother, only borrowed a little.”
“But that doesn't take into account what you've been doing since.”
“Well, Patrice kept asking why I could afford to send Mother to France and give so much to the school but never take her anywhere. So when the cricket team needed new equipment, I organized the charity ball and tried my little arrangement again. We went to Paris. And then last fall it was the new carriage and a trip to Vienna. And then she wanted some new clothes, and the house seemed small, and then somehow Professor Headly found out, and I had to pay him, and please, please don't arrest me. It would kill Mother.”
“So you killed Headly to stop him from telling her.”
“No, I swear I didn't. Please, you have to believe me.”
“Why? You’ve been swindling the school for how long now? Why should I trust anything you have to say?”
“I couldn’t have done it. It happened on Friday night, right? Well that night, I had dinner with the head of the college and his wife. We were discussing plans for an end-of-term dinner, perhaps give awards to large donors, maybe a raffle of some sort...” He realized he was describing his next intended swindle to us and stopped abruptly.
“Dinner, you said. How do you account for the rest of your evening?”
“We discussed the plans until at least ten o’clock. I didn’t return home until after eleven. I know because Patrice had already locked up and gone to bed, and I was forced to use the schoolboy trick of climbing in through the kitchen window.”
“I will check with your wife and the head of the college.”
“Naturally. And you will have to tell him about my transgressions, I’m sure.”
“I will.”
“Perhaps I could go with you?”
Inspector Burrows nodded. “You’re hoping he’ll go easier on you if you make the confession yourself? Yes, you may come if you leave when I tell you so I can question him on your alibi.”
“I understand the necessity. Shall we get it over with?”
Inspector Burrows gestured towards the office door. Professor Armstrong left, looking like a man being led to his execution. Now did not seem to be the time to tell Inspector Burrows about finding my check. I gave Inspector Burrows a chance to get away so he would know I didn’t intend to follow, then returned to the guest house.