‘Nor on anyone else’s except yours,’ said Royle, keeping his end up well.
‘But the vital clue is the conversation at the Wickhams’. It’s there he’d break down. All I’m asking is for you to go along and question him again, and then bring this casually up, just in the middle of the conversation, and watch his reaction.’
‘You’re joking. All hell would break loose if it was wrong.’
‘It’s not wrong. Don’t you see, it all hangs together. Let’s go over the whole thing. Doncaster is a scout at Oxford, just before the war, and in the first months. We have definite proof of this from Timmins. He’s a bright boy, but there aren’t many chances for a bright boy in the thirties. While he’s there, he keeps his eyes open, gets the manner off pat, gets the accent, gets the walk — everything. Now Belville-Smith is a don at another college, but they’ve never seen each other as far as Doncaster knows. He’s a pretty dim figure in Oxford life in any case, so he wouldn’t make any impression on his memory. At any rate, when he turns up here as a visiting Professor, and Doncaster is invited to the Wickhams’ party, he doesn’t think for a moment that there is anything to fear from him. Simply doesn’t give it a thought. He’s met plenty of Oxford people in his time in Australia, and no one has thought to question his claims.’
‘How come he gets to be a headmaster in Australia?’ asked Royle. ‘You can’t just walk into a job like that.’
‘Well, not quite, but very nearly,’ said Bill. ‘He comes out with the early migrants after the war. Applies for a job in a private school. Claims an Oxford degree. Nobody checks up. It’s as easy as pie. Nobody’s ever checked up on my degree, and I’m at a University. Those private schools are so hard up for competent staff that they practically beg people to fool them. And with a manner like that, he probably had them queueing for his services.’
‘Then no one checked up afterwards either? I can’t believe that. He’s been in schools all over the country — real good schools at that. He had a couple of terms at Geelong.’ He pronounced it as if it were Valhalla or Nineveh.
‘But once he was in, he was in. Nobody was going to check up after that. He had excellent references from his previous school, and that was that. And frankly, you don’t need much knowledge to get by in most of these schools, so you can be pretty sure the references were always good. Then along came old Belville-Smith, he was invited to meet him, and he was so sure of himself that he went along.’
‘And you think Belville-Smith recognized him?’
‘Well, I shouldn’t think he did anything as positive as that. In fact, as far as I can see, it could be that he didn’t make any connections at all. You remember what happened: the conversation turned to scouting, and the poor old bugger’s state of mind being what it was, he sort of “went off”, and kept on repeating the word over and over again. He was pretty squiffy by then, remember, though nobody was quite sure how much was drink and how much was natural. Perhaps there was a little bell rang in the back of his mind — sometimes it does with very old people. But I wouldn’t mind betting there was nothing in it at all: he was just vaguely repeating things. I noticed he did it once or twice when he was talking to me, just saying the word over. He wasn’t focusing, couldn’t concentrate properly. But obviously Doncaster didn’t take it like that — you can see how it affected him.’
‘You think he just upped and murdered him.’
‘Yes. Panic reaction. But on the whole he hadn’t very much to fear. Firstly, there was nothing on the surface to connect them; then the obvious people whom the police were likely to investigate most thoroughly were all in the English department, people who’d been in contact with him for some days and had studied in his own field.’ He wanted to add ‘and then, he knew what the Drummondale police were like’, but he thought better of it.
Royle sat there for a minute, slowly thinking.
‘Well, it could be. I’ll give you that,’ he said. ‘There’d be plenty of knives and what-not around in the rural science labs at the school. I’ve been around and seen ’em.’
‘And a bloody lab coat wouldn’t cause any particular comment,’ said Bill.
‘No. They do some pretty nasty experiments there, some of those little buggers,’ said Royle, with envy.
‘Exactly. Easy as falling off a log.’
‘Yeah . . . But as far as asking me to go to him with a lot of conjecture like that — well, I just couldn’t do it. It’d be more than my job’s worth, you must see that.’
‘I thought your future depended on finding the murderer?’ said Bill.
‘On finding a murderer,’ said Royle. ‘It might be different if he wasn’t the head — just a teacher, or someone at the high school. But then again, he’s on the executive of the Country Party. If I went to my superiors with a story like you’ve concocted about a chap like that, one of the big shots around here, well, they’d practically clap me in my own cells. If you’re going to arrest a chap in his position, you need three or four actual witnesses — all of them ministers of religion at that.’
‘I’m not suggesting you consult your superiors. Just you go and have it out with him.’
‘Alone? Are you off your rocker? Look, mate, I’m a married man. I’ve got two daughters at home — depending on me.’ (Royle did this line very badly indeed.) ‘Course, I’m as brave as the next man — especially when the next man is you — ’ he gave a coarse laugh — ‘but I’m not going to go to his study and practically present my throat to him and say, “Have a slice if you feel like it, old man.” ’
Bill was getting more and more desperate. What is more, he rather resented the crude slur on his courage, which was as great as the next man’s, especially when the next man was Royle.
‘Look, if you’re not game, I’ll do it. Provided,’ he put in hastily, ‘provided you’re willing to have me watched day and night after I’ve done it. You’ll need to have two or three men in the college grounds, and I want your best men at that. The next time there’s a party, or when it’s non-resident Fellows’ night at Menzies College, I’ll bring up the subject of scouts. I’ll make it pretty clear to him that I know his background. I guarantee it’ll drive him off his rocker, and that’s how we’ll get him.’
But they never did fix the murder of Professor Belville-Smith on to Mr Doncaster in a court of law. It was for the murder of Bill Bascomb that he was caught and sentenced later in the year.
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Published by Scribner
Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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Copyright © 1977 by Robert Barnard
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electric or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Publisher.
All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious.
First published in the United States of America in 1977 by the Walker Publishing Company, Inc.
ISBN: 0-8027-5365-5
ISBN: 978-1-4767-3399-9 (eBook)
Death of an Old Goat Page 19
