New Year.
‘Definitely not suicide, sir. Man would have to have been a contortionist to do it himself, Jack Chadwick says. Don’t expect that was one of the requirements laid down for a university leader.’
‘Murder?’
‘Oh, I should think so, sir. Socking great hole in the back of his head. Big pool of blood and brains on the carpet beside—’
‘Don’t give me all the detail, Peach. Just tell me who the hell did it!’
‘Don’t know, sir. Not yet.’ Peach refused to be thrown off balance by the colossal effrontery of the man. He leaned forward confidentially, as if about to impart information of great importance. ‘Matter of fact, sir, between the two of us, I haven’t a clue. George Andrew Carter had been dead for at least twenty-four hours before we got there, the pathologist says. Found by two students, he was. Eventually.’
‘Ah! Leading suspects, then.’
Peach nodded, pretending to weigh the idea. Then he said decisively, ‘Already eliminated them from the inquiry, sir.’
‘Oh!’ Tucker’s face fell, then assumed an expression of immense craft as he said, ‘Well, you’ll check their home backgrounds before you rule them out completely, if you take my advice. And see if they’ve run up any debts.’
Peach wondered quite how killing off their Director might be expected to solve a student debt problem. But he didn’t care to probe further into the labyrinthine depths of Tucker’s reasoning when there was work to be done. ‘We could do them for breaking and entering, if we’d a mind to. And they’ve contaminated the site of a murder, plodding around the place. But they didn’t kill Claptrap Carter.’
‘Claptrap Carter! Peach, this is an academic of considerable standing. A scholar and a gentleman. You will remember that during your investigation. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir. Member of the Lodge, was he?’
‘That has nothing to do with it! I’ve told you before that Freemasonry — mine or anyone else’s — has nothing to do with police work.’
A Mason then, the Director, thought Percy. No relevance to his death, in all probability, but a fact to be stored up against the possibility of further fun with Tucker. ‘You don’t think he might have had rivals for Master of his Lodge, sir? People who might have cared enough to kill him, to remove a powerful contender from the field?’
‘I do not, Peach. Your melodramatic ravings about motive sometimes make me worry whether you’re the right man for the job or not! If it’s not those students you have so readily dismissed, consider the family. Three-quarters of murders are committed by people within the family, you know.’ Tucker delivered his well-worn and slightly out-of-date statistic with satisfaction, then sat back further in his chair. ‘You would do well to remember that.’
‘Really, sir? Well, you’ll be happy to hear I’m off to see the wife and family now, sir.’
‘Get about it, then! Don’t waste your time here, Peach. I’ll hold the fort for you here!’
‘Very good of you, sir. Tower of strength as usual.’ Before Tucker could move it from where he had set it down on the desk in front of him, Peach picked up the memo about the late Director of the UEL’s bowel trouble. Might be useful during some pub gathering of the CID section, that, to add to the folklore of their leader’s gaffes. ‘I’ll get off right away, then.’
He didn’t see any need to tell him that the wife was sixty miles away to the north, well out of the Brunton ambit of Tommy Bloody Tucker.
*
Most people didn’t consider a chaplain a key appointment when they thought about the staffing of a new university. And the UEL was so new that its leader still hadn’t changed his title yet from Director, which he had been in the old college of higher education, to Vice Chancellor, which he was entitled to call himself, now that the new institution had been confirmed as a university. Nevertheless, the UEL had a chaplain.
Thomas
‘Definitely not suicide, sir. Man would have to have been a contortionist to do it himself, Jack Chadwick says. Don’t expect that was one of the requirements laid down for a university leader.’
‘Murder?’
‘Oh, I should think so, sir. Socking great hole in the back of his head. Big pool of blood and brains on the carpet beside—’
‘Don’t give me all the detail, Peach. Just tell me who the hell did it!’
‘Don’t know, sir. Not yet.’ Peach refused to be thrown off balance by the colossal effrontery of the man. He leaned forward confidentially, as if about to impart information of great importance. ‘Matter of fact, sir, between the two of us, I haven’t a clue. George Andrew Carter had been dead for at least twenty-four hours before we got there, the pathologist says. Found by two students, he was. Eventually.’
‘Ah! Leading suspects, then.’
Peach nodded, pretending to weigh the idea. Then he said decisively, ‘Already eliminated them from the inquiry, sir.’
‘Oh!’ Tucker’s face fell, then assumed an expression of immense craft as he said, ‘Well, you’ll check their home backgrounds before you rule them out completely, if you take my advice. And see if they’ve run up any debts.’
Peach wondered quite how killing off their Director might be expected to solve a student debt problem. But he didn’t care to probe further into the labyrinthine depths of Tucker’s reasoning when there was work to be done. ‘We could do them for breaking and entering, if we’d a mind to. And they’ve contaminated the site of a murder, plodding around the place. But they didn’t kill Claptrap Carter.’
‘Claptrap Carter! Peach, this is an academic of considerable standing. A scholar and a gentleman. You will remember that during your investigation. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir. Member of the Lodge, was he?’
‘That has nothing to do with it! I’ve told you before that Freemasonry — mine or anyone else’s — has nothing to do with police work.’
A Mason then, the Director, thought Percy. No relevance to his death, in all probability, but a fact to be stored up against the possibility of further fun with Tucker. ‘You don’t think he might have had rivals for Master of his Lodge, sir? People who might have cared enough to kill him, to remove a powerful contender from the field?’
‘I do not, Peach. Your melodramatic ravings about motive sometimes make me worry whether you’re the right man for the job or not! If it’s not those students you have so readily dismissed, consider the family. Three-quarters of murders are committed by people within the family, you know.’ Tucker delivered his well-worn and slightly out-of-date statistic with satisfaction, then sat back further in his chair. ‘You would do well to remember that.’
‘Really, sir? Well, you’ll be happy to hear I’m off to see the wife and family now, sir.’
‘Get about it, then! Don’t waste your time here, Peach. I’ll hold the fort for you here!’
‘Very good of you, sir. Tower of strength as usual.’ Before Tucker could move it from where he had set it down on the desk in front of him, Peach picked up the memo about the late Director of the UEL’s bowel trouble. Might be useful during some pub gathering of the CID section, that, to add to the folklore of their leader’s gaffes. ‘I’ll get off right away, then.’
He didn’t see any need to tell him that the wife was sixty miles away to the north, well out of the Brunton ambit of Tommy Bloody Tucker.
*
Most people didn’t consider a chaplain a key appointment when they thought about the staffing of a new university. And the UEL was so new that its leader still hadn’t changed his title yet from Director, which he had been in the old college of higher education, to Vice Chancellor, which he was entitled to call himself, now that the new institution had been confirmed as a university. Nevertheless, the UEL had a chaplain.
Thomas
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