The next morning, after a hurried breakfast of tea and crumpets in the tea shop, I went to see Inspector Burrows. Even though he wouldn’t have had time to verify or break Professor Armstrong’s alibi, I was hoping that he had released Mr. Langley now that he had more than one possible suspect. Constable Winters greeted me when I arrived at the station and waved me through.
Inspector Burrows was alone in the office, folding away his cot, so I was able to ask him, “Have you released him yet?” without preamble.
Inspector Burrows didn’t look up at me. “No.”
“What do you mean? You have Professor Armstrong, who has at least as much motive. Surely you can’t keep him locked away even if you can’t clear him definitively.”
“Miss Pengear, Mr. Langley bought a train ticket to London the afternoon before the murder.”
“But he didn’t use it.”
“Not at Oxford, but he could have used it somewhere else.”
“And have you found out where?”
“We are still checking the stations between here and London.”
“And have you checked if he has an alibi?”
“I do know my job, Miss Pengear. His alibi is Professor Brookwald.”
“That doesn't mean it's not reliable.”
“Miss Pengear, you are not officially investigating this case. You can be as irrational and illogical as you like.” He held up his hand, clearly sensing I was about to tell him exactly what I thought of that, particularly since I prided myself on remaining unbiased in our cases and in following leads even if they pointed somewhere I didn't want them to. “I do not have that luxury. I am a Scotland Yard detective. I have to remain unbiased. Mr. Langley bought a ticket to London the night of the murder. The body was dumped in London. His alibi is suspect at best. What am I supposed to do?”
I sighed. Inspector Burrows was lucky he was my friend, otherwise I would have given him several suggestions for what to do, and only half of them would have been related to the case. And that wouldn't have helped anything. The simplest way to find out why Mr. Langley had bought a train ticket was the direct one. “Can I see him?”
“Yes, for a few minutes at least. He might want to...send a message to someone.”
I understood. It wouldn't do for Professor Brookwald to be seen as being too concerned about his assistant's fate.
“He’s being held at the main station. I’ll write you...” He paused then changed to, “Constable Winters will write you a letter of permission to see him on my authority.”
“Thank you.” So he thought the resentment had spread from this small station to the main one and didn’t want me to have any trouble getting in to see Mr. Langley. I wondered if that was speculation on his part or if someone from the main station had expressed their displeasure at his presence.
At the main station, the officer studied the note Constable Winters had given me, then muttered something about the “London man” and led me to one of the interrogation rooms. I sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs and waited until he returned with Mr. Langley.
“Fifteen minutes, Miss. I’ll be right outside the door.”
“Thank you.”
I watched as he closed the door and took up a position just visible through the window. He didn’t appear to be trying to listen, but then my friend Kate had set up listening tubes in their shop when there had been a rash of petty thefts which enabled her to hear conversations while seeming to be leaning against the table which held the yarn swift and ball winder. Still, we were as secure as we were going to be. I turned to Mr. Langley.
He looked exhausted. He hadn’t been allowed to shave or change clothes since he’d arrived, and he appeared scruffy and rumpled and, above all, scared. He managed a smile for me. “Good afternoon, Miss Pengear.”
“Good afternoon. I’ve spoken to Inspector Burrows.”
“And I assume you aren’t here to tell me I’ll be released any minute.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“They haven’t said why they think it was me, although I assume the letter...”
I wondered why Inspector Burrows hadn’t asked him about it, unless he wanted me to try and get any information out of him and pass on the relevant bits, in case there was something besides the letter he didn’t want to know about. I cut him off just in case the constable at the door was listening, “He’s requested it be located, but that’s not the reason. He’s discovered that you bought a train ticket to London shortly before the murder.” I watched for his reaction.
Mr. Langley looked down at his hands, suddenly exhausted. “So that’s it. Yes, I bought the ticket, but it wasn't for me.”
“Of course it wasn't. It was probably for the murderer.”
“I'm afraid not. You see, I bought it for Professor Headly.”
“You bought a train ticket to London for Professor Headly on the day he was murdered and his body was left in London?”
“That's right. That doesn't help me at all, does it?”
“I don't think so, not yet anyway. If he needed a train ticket to London, why didn't he just buy it himself? The station isn't that far away.”
“He didn't say. He just stopped me in the hallway and asked me to go and get the ticket. I went, got the ticket, and brought it to him in his office. At the time, I wondered if he was just trying to annoy Silas since I had been helping him grade essays, but Professor Headly even paid me for the ticket.”
“So you saw him and gave it to him.”
“That's right.”
“And he didn't say why he was going to London?”
“No, and I thought that it was strange since, when I dropped the ticket off, I heard him make an appointment with a student for the next day.”
“Was it a return ticket?”
“No.”
That was odd. “Do you think it was for someone else?”
“Why would he be buying a ticket for someone else?”
“Why indeed.” I thought Inspector Burrows should be particularly pleased with my unbiased detecting. I didn't tell Mr. Langley that if we found the person the ticket was intended for, we'd most likely be looking at the next blackmail victim. “You said he was making an appointment with a student. Do you know which student?”
“Yes, Jerry Reedy. He lives in Clovston Hall.”
“And he was there, in the office?”
“That's right. He was leaving as I was waiting to go in, and he said, 'I'll see you tomorrow at three then.' He left, and I gave Professor Headly the ticket.”
The ticket couldn't have been for Mr. Reedy if he was seeing Professor Headly the next day, but it was somewhere to start at least. “I'll let Professor Brookwald know you're all right. Is there anything you need?”
“No, I'm fine. But if you would tell him... Just tell him I'm fine.”
I nodded and left.
With Mr. McAvery’s help, I was able to locate Mr. Reedy as he was leaving a lecture. It turned out he was one of the boys from the cricket team, one of the ones who had been teasing Bailey about losing his cricket notes. “Miss Penton, isn’t it?”
“Pengear, actually. I wanted to ask you something.”
“About the cricket team? You’d have to ask Professor Graham about that.”
“No, no. It’s about the day Professor Headly died.”
“Oh. I’m not a suspect, am I? You see, I don’t have an alibi for that evening and...”
“Nothing like that. It’s just, I was told you saw him that afternoon.”
“Yes, I did, but it was much earlier in the day. I needed to make an appointment to see him, and he didn’t have any appointments left in his book, so I went to ask him directly if I could visit him after class the next day.”
“Did he mention a trip?”
“A trip?”
“To London. I was told he bought a train ticket to London, so I was wondering if he mentioned it. Perhaps he said he’d meet you when he got back or something like that.”
“I wish I could help you, Miss Pengear, but I don't know anything about a trip to London.”
“But you were planning on seeing him the next day?”
“That's right. I was having some trouble with a paper I'm working on, and he had offered to help me with it after class. It was on the Trojan War, which involved Sparta, you see.”
“And he made no indication that he might be out of town, that he might not be able to meet with you?”
“No, in fact, he was very helpful. I've been having some issues with my allowance coming through, and he had noticed I was out of sorts and wanted to talk with me. That’s how we got started talking about the paper. He was always very good at knowing when students were having a rough time of it.”
It seemed Professor Headly had no trouble finding blackmail victims. “Do you mind telling me what the problem was?”
“Nothing dramatic. My father switched the bank he uses, and the deposits aren't coming through properly yet. They keep saying they'll fix it the next month, and it keeps not happening, so I have to keep borrowing from the others on the cricket team and paying them back. It never ends.”
If that was the truth, Professor Headly would have been very disappointed. “Did you see anyone else while you were there?”
“Spencer was leaving when I went in, and Mr. Langley was waiting to see him when I left.”
“I'll see if either of them know anything. Do you know where Mr. Spencer would be?”
“I suppose you can find Mr. Langley easily enough. I think Spencer has a lecture at three. In the Mathematics wing.”
“Mathematics? You mean he wasn’t a Classics student?”
“No. He’s reading Maths.”
“But then why was he going to see Professor Headly?”
That stopped him. “I suppose that is a little odd. But like I said, he was a good listener.”
It seemed Professor Headly's listening skills had been the stuff of legends. No wonder he had his pick of blackmail victims. “I suppose. If you think of anything...”
“I'd rather talk to you than the police. Thank you.”
Following Mr. Reedy’s directions, I found Mr. Spencer as he was coming out of the Maths building. He was with several other boys, so I followed at a discreet distance trying to figure out how to separate him from his friends. Our journey took us past Mr. McAvery’s office. I considered stopping in to ask for his help, but I was afraid I’d lose Mr. Spencer if I did. However, Mr. McAvery must have spotted me since he came out of his office and looked at me quizzically. I held up three fingers to let him know I was following the third boy.
“Mr. Spencer, would you come in here, please?”
Mr. Spencer looked surprised, but he followed Mr. McAvery into the office. I gave his friends a moment to continue on, then entered the office myself.
Mr. McAvery was putting on his coat, which seemed to confuse Mr. Spencer. “I will be going to lunch. Miss Pengear, if you need anything, I will be eating a sandwich in the yard.”
I smiled at him. It did make me feel better to have him within screaming distance.
Mr. Spencer went to follow Mr. McAvery out, but Mr. McAvery pulled the door closed behind him. Mr. Spencer looked like he was trying to decide if Mr. McAvery had shut the door in his face on purpose or not. I spoke up before he could decide.
“Mr. Spencer, I wanted to talk to you.”
He paused as if he were considering the best way to respond then leered at me. “If that’s what you wanted, you just had to ask. Shall we go somewhere private?”
I could tell he was trying to upset me so badly that I’d storm out without asking him anything. It seemed too strong a reaction for a simple office visit, particularly since he didn’t even know why I wanted to talk to him. Since I knew what his plan was, I was able to answer him calmly. “You were one of the last people to visit Professor Headly.”
“I couldn't have been. We were under a strict curfew.”
That managed to stop me. If he was using curfew as an alibi, he didn't think I was talking about the visit Mr. Reedy had seen. That meant…
“You visited Professor Headly the night he died.”
“Why would I do that?”
But there was something in the way he said it. A little tremor, a little too insistent. “That’s what I want to know.”
He leaned on the desk. He didn’t think I knew anything, and he was going to try and brazen it out. So there had to be something to know. The question was what. I had one very interesting theory, but who knew how many little plots Professor Headly had going on. But I needed to do something to shake Mr. Spencer, and it seemed worth taking a chance. “Why did you need the train ticket?”
He shifted a little but was still trying to glare at me. “Why would I need a train ticket to London?”
“I didn’t tell you it was to London.”
That shook him. I could tell by the way his hands clutched at the desk. “I don’t have to tell you anything. If my father...” He was almost growling at me.
I stood my ground. “No, you don’t. But you will go to the police station, and you will tell Inspector Burrows why you needed a train ticket to London, or I will tell him you are obstructing the course of justice, and he will come here and arrest you. Good luck explaining that to your father.”
Mr. Spencer stared at me.
“Shall I call for Mr. McAvery and have him get Constable Winters?”
“And why would Constable Winters come?”
“You were most likely the last person to see Professor Headly before he died. You don’t want to tell us why. I think he’ll be interested in that.”
“You don't have any authority. You'd have already arrested me if you could.”
“Then you would prefer to be arrested while in class, or at your dormitory? I'm sure you'd like to explain that.”
Mr. Spencer was coming up with another retort when the door opened and Constable Winters came in, followed by Mr. McAvery. “Miss Pengear, I am told you have a witness who needs to be escorted to the station.”
Mr. Spencer swallowed. “I wasn't resisting. I was....”
“Then you won't mind coming along with me.” Constable Winters took Mr. Spencer by the arm and marched him out the door. I followed them.
As I passed Mr. McAvery, I whispered, “Thanks.”
He nodded. “Constable Winters was passing by. Well, on the next street, close enough.”