“As the conversation over coffee developed and touched on different subjects, as always happens on such occasions, I believe Miss Holland to have mentioned that she was going to have a quiet afternoon and evening. All she had to do was to make a trip to the chemist for a few bits and bobs for her holiday and after that prepare her own supper, using the piece of steak Mrs Gibson had brought in for her. At this point I think she probably said that she wished she knew some way of preparing steak other than grilling it or frying it as she did every Tuesday.
“My next supposition is that it was at this point that Miss Bulmer saw her opportunity. I believe she said: ‘Why not try Steak au Poivre?’ Miss Holland asked how this was prepared and Miss Bulmer replied: ‘It’s bound to be in Mrs Gibson’s cookery book. Look it up. It really is very easy.’ To this Miss Holland must have replied: ‘I’ll do that. I’d like to try my hand at something new.’” Masters paused a moment before going on. “We know Miss Holland did consult the cookery book that day, because the page which held the recipe for Steak au Poivre was marked by an envelope franked the day before and, therefore, only received by her last Tuesday.”
“Go on,” growled Hildidge. “This is getting interesting.”
“The knowledge that Miss Holland intended to visit the chemist was vital to Miss Bulmer. It meant the School House would be empty but easily accessible through the unlocked connecting door. Miss Freeman, the school secretary, has informed us that though Tuesday afternoon is a games afternoon and, therefore, no classes are held in the school, Miss Bulmer was on the premises from soon after lunch until after four o’clock.”
“You are saying she sneaked in and put laburnum seeds in the pepper drum?”
“I believe she watched for Miss Holland to leave and then, armed with a new pepper drum which she had filled with laburnum seeds, and which she had been careful to handle only with gloves on or with a handkerchief round it, she exchanged the drums, leaving her own and come out with Mrs Gibson’s.”
“If she handled it with gloves on, how did she get a third set of immature female prints on it?” demanded Hildidge.
“That’s the bit that had me foxed for a moment, sir, until I remembered that check-out girls in supermarkets are often immature females. We know which supermarket this came from, because the price ticket is peculiar to that particular shop—a shop, incidentally, which Mrs Gibson swears she never uses. We shall have to take a few dabs in that shop to confirm our theory.”
“Anything else?” asked Hildidge.
“Yes. I must hurry or those two little girlies will be back. Miss Lickfold whom, I think, Miss Holland rightly moved from her post of deputy headmistress, nevertheless has convinced us that some of the reports reaching Miss Holland concerning Miss Lickfold’s shortcomings emanated from Miss Bulmer. Some untrue. There are other mistresses to support this and they all agree that where they would try to cover for a colleague, Miss Bulmer was intent on putting the skids under her. The result was that as next senior mistress she became deputy head. I believe that to have been her first step. That exercise took her three years. The next step, were she to follow the same tactics, she knew would never succeed. Miss Holland was too strong and successful ever to be ousted in similar fashion. Besides, time was not on Miss Bulmer’s side. She was an older woman than Miss Holland and so, were they both to continue normally, Miss Bulmer would retire first. Only in the event of Miss Holland’s death could Miss Bulmer hope to attain the headship of Bramthorpe College. And so Miss Holland had to die.”
“Do you mean she had an overweening ambition to become headmistress?” asked Hall in an astounded voice.
“Yes, Mr Hall, I do. And she reckoned that once she had been appointed deputy head by a woman of the calibre of Miss Holland, the Board of Governors would find it difficult to refuse her application should the job of headmistress become vacant.”
“Quite right. We would,” said Sir Thomas.
“Today,” went on Masters, “I think Miss Bulmer lost her head. On the pretext that she was guarding the good name of the school and in the interest of the girls, she went so far as to forbid all staff—domestic as well as academic—to talk to us, and to refuse us entry to the school and its buildings. She seemed to us to be so fiercely determined to protect Bramthorpe now that she is acting head that it caused us to look much more closely at her. We wondered at her attitude. She had become proprietorial concerning the school. And I remembered one little thing that struck me as odd last night. Without really looking into those drums, it was she who identified the contents as paint powder. A maths mistress knowing about paint powder . . .? Well, maybe. But I reckon she knew because Miss Holland had told her over coffee last Tuesday morning.”
“Is that it?” asked Hildidge.
“Except for bits and pieces. Are we right?”
“Of course you bloody well are. It’s as sweet as a nut. When shall you arrest her?”
“After school breaks up tomorrow, if that suits you.”
“That’ll be best.”
“No, gentlemen,” said Green, “can we change the conversation, please? Our two little totties should be on their way.”
A moment later a clock in the hall started to chime. On the first stroke of the hour the door opened and two girls pushed a laden trolley in.
“How’s this?” June asked Green.
“Just the jobbo.”
“We did try to find two of the maid’s old mini skirts, but she had no black stockings and suspender belts so we gave it up as a bad job.”
“You,” said Green, “don’t need any aids like that. Either of you. Mr Masters is married to a grown-up version of you two, and she’s the berries. I could almost believe she went to Bramthorpe as a kid. She’s got the same air about her.”
“She did,” said Masters. “She’s a Bog. She often laughs about it.”
“Bog?” demanded Green amazedly.
“Bramthorpe Old Girl,” chorused the two young misses.
Green was outraged. He tackled a ham sandwich like a lion taking a tasty joint at feeding time. Sir Thomas drew Masters aside. “If only she’d waited a few months, she would have had everything she wanted.”
“But would she have been the right one, Sir Thomas? Considering what we now know about her?”
Sir Thomas shook his head sadly.
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Golden Rain Page 19
