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Authors: Gladys Mitchell

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“You are very kind, sir, but I fear my mamma would oppose the scheme. She has set her heart on the diplomatic service for me, and I should not wish—in fact, between ourselves, I should not dare—to thwart her.” (When she read this preposterous statement later on in a letter which her son wrote to her, Laura Gavin laughed sardonically).

From outside the Warden’s office Hamish dashed downstairs and out on to the field. He was more than anxious to find out what had happened to Jones. The fact that the Warden’s javelin was missing disquieted him more than a little, although he could hardly imagine that it was dangerous enough to become a lethal weapon.

chapter
6
Joynings jumps the Gun

H
enry had not yet collected his search party. The College enjoyed its after-lunch break and was disinclined to go roaming the woods on what the majority thought would be a fool’s errand.

“Who wants to find bloody Jonah, anyway? Good riddance if he
has
gone,” was the consensus of opinion. Hamish, faced with this conclusion, left the tennis courts and went on to the field where the gymnasts, singly or in small groups, were stretched out in the sunshine, secure in the knowledge that for them there would be no class that afternoon. He spoke crisply to one and another.

“You a gym man? Well, there’s no gym this afternoon, so go on to the tennis courts and report to Henry. Why? Because I shall scrag you if you don’t.”

As the gymnasts, on the whole, tended to be small-boned and amenable rather than hefty and belligerent, this policy worked well, particularly as the men’s gym squad, owing to Jones’s slackness, were known to be lethargic and out of condition. They groused and slouched, but they obeyed. Henry addressed them.

“You’ll be looking for Jonah. He may be injured. He must be found. I’d rather we found him than the police. That’s all. We’ll quarter the woods inch by inch. It shouldn’t take long.” He indicated a heap of hockey sticks which some of the girls had been asked to bring over from their games shed. “These will help you to prod the undergrowth and shove brambles out of your way, and all that. Shout out if you find him or if you find anything which will help us to trace him. If he’s hurt, of course don’t attempt to move him. O.K.? Off we go, then.”

“Do you think there are enough of us to search the woods thoroughly, Henry?” asked a slim youth wearing a singlet and grey flannels. “When I’ve seen films where the police do it, they fan out and beat every bit of bracken.”

“Trouble is that everybody except you blokes has a coaching session in about half-an-hour’s time, Gil.”

“What about the long-jump squad, then? There’s been a sort of hoodoo placed on the pit since Colin’s accident and what with Barry being on leave until recently, and all that. Why shouldn’t
they
be given something to do, as well as
us
?”

“Barry is going to give them a blackboard lecture with slides of Klaus Beer, Ralph Boston and Lynn Davies—oh, and Mary Rand and Viorica Viscopoleanu, of course. I’m afraid Barry is not very keen on using the pit even yet. He can’t get over Colin’s accident, any more than the long-jump squad can. You cut along and start looking for Jonah, and don’t worry about the long-jump fellows.”

“It’s a bit morbid of Barry, don’t you think, to boycott the pit like this?” asked Hamish, as he and Henry cantered after the students. “After all, accidents do happen, and Colin seems to be going on all right.”

“Barry will get himself sorted out in time. He’s very fond of Colin, you know. Besides, he blames himself for the accident in the most unreasonable way. Says that if he hadn’t gone on leave, the thing would never have happened. Well, of course it wouldn’t, but you can’t argue in that sort of way.”

“How thoroughly do you think this lot will search?” asked Hamish, as they caught up with the last of the gymnasts and passed them.

“I don’t think they’ll put themselves out, but the woods are not very extensive. We’d better separate, I think. You take the left side and I’ll do the rest. How much time can you spare?”

“Not a lot, I’m afraid. Got a swim-session with some learners. I want everybody in College to be able to swim.”

“All right, then. Do you know that old hut in the clearing?”

“No, but I can find it.”

“All right. Take that path there. It leads to it. If the hut seems to be locked, kick it in. The timbers are sure to be rotten.”

“If it’s locked, Jones can’t be there.”

“Somebody may have a key. They got one to the stoke-hole, remember.”

Hamish found the hut. It was locked, but he had no difficulty in kicking in two or three boards and entering the musty premises. There were two rooms. The building must have been a temporary shelter for a gamekeeper when the estate had been in private hands. Hamish looked around. The rooms were bare, except for cobwebs, and smelt damp. There was no sign of Jones. On his way out of the woods he encountered Henry again.

“Not in the hut,” he said.

“No? It was just a possibility,” said Henry. “We haven’t had any luck, either. Well, I’m going to leave the students to it now. I feel I’ve shown willing and I ought to be back in College in case Gassie wants me. Miss Yale has just met me and mentioned the stoke-hole, so I think I’ll take another look at it just in case there’s another something which I’ve overlooked.”


Another
something? How do you mean?”

“Well, it turns out that there is another key. It belongs to Miss Yale and hangs up just inside her door with one or two other of her keys. She says it isn’t there now and she can’t remember when she saw it last. She came to tell me.”

“Oh, dear! Well, if Jones has been removed from the stoke-hole —and it seems he has — where on earth can they have put him? That’s if he hasn’t slung his hook off his own bat. He may well have done so, you know. I mean, don’t you think that, if the students did manhandle him a bit and then some of them let him go, he may have got wind up and decided that enough is enough? This business of Miss Yale’s key may be significant, don’t you see. I mean, another lot of students might have known it was there, let him out with it and threatened that it might be worse for him next time.”

“Well, it could be so, I suppose, but, in view of his car’s still being here, I don’t think it’s very likely. I agree that somebody in the know, but not one of the six who came along to confess, must have swiped Miss Yale’s key, taken Jones out of storage and put him somewhere else, but it’s only speculation.”

“Who is the somebody? And where, as I say, could they have put him if the students don’t find him in the woods?”

“Well,” said Henry, “I don’t know either answer and I don’t really want to name names, but Barry has been brooding more than a bit since he knew of Colin’s accident. Then there’s Lesley. She and Barry between then could account for Jones, I think. He’s big, but he’s flabby and, apart from that, if Lesley really got busy with that sandbag thing at the end of the indoor jumping-rope and connected it with Jonah’s head, if you see what I mean…”

“She wouldn’t really commit actual bodily harm, though, would she? Girls don’t, you know.”

“Don’t they? She’s talked pretty wildly, anyway. Still, I noticed this morning that her two invalids are among us again and looking none the worse, so perhaps she has cooled off by now.”

“Here’s hoping,” said Hamish. “Well, I’d better leave you. I’ve promised some beginners a tutorial in the indoor pool, as I told you, and I don’t want them drowning one another before I get there.”

“You’re too conscientious by half,” said Henry.

“Look who’s talking!” said Hamish.

He found his beginners skirmishing about in the shallow end, ordered them out of the water and gave them a short demonstration of free-style swimming which was sardonically applauded. As he swung himself up out of the water a girl came out of one of the cubicles.

“I say, Jimmy,” she observed, “guess what!”

“My guess is that you’re late for class, but think nothing of it. I’m paid a great deal of money for putting up with little slackers like you,” said Hamish. “Get in, all of you—
jump
! No crawling down the steps.”

“No, but listen, Jimmy,” protested the girl.

“No time,” said Hamish. “Get in, all of you, and take hold of those crawl-boards you see at the shallow end. Arms at full stretch. Free-style kick, and count One, Two, Three, One, Two, Three, until I tell you to stop. Like this.” He dived in again and demonstrated. There was more sardonic applause as he heaved himself out on to the side.

“No, but, listen, Jamesy,” persisted the youngster, “it’s so peculiar. You
must
come. You
must
. It might be terribly important.”

Hamish looked at her and decided that she was in earnest.

“If you’re pulling my leg, young woman, ”he said, “you’ll be in trouble.”

“No, really! You
must
come. I’ve found something horrid in my cubicle.”

“Oh, Lord!” thought Hamish, following her along the warm tiles. “How big is it?” he asked, thinking of Jones. However, had it been Jones, she would probably have screamed the place down, he reflected.

“Well, it’s not
big
, exactly,” said the girl. “More kind of long and thin, actually.”

“Can you carry it?”

“Oh, well, yes, but I don’t like the idea of touching it.”

“Very well. Get into the water with the others.”

“Oh, but it’s my find! I want to show it you.”

“Get into the water, or I’ll throw you in at the deep end and leave you to drown.” He made a threatening gesture which sent her screaming away. Then he entered the cubicle, which was electrically lighted. The girl was right in two respects.

The object which was standing in one corner of the tiny room was certainly portable. It was a javelin. It was also important, for the binding at the hand-grip was dark red and looked sticky.

Hamish did not touch the javelin. He came out of the cubicle and went to the telephone in the instructor’s dressing-room. He asked for Henry.

“Look,” he said, “can you come over to the indoor pool?” Having received Henry’s assurance, he went back to his squad of learners and worked them hard until Henry appeared.

“What’s up?” Henry asked. “Drowned somebody?”

“No. Come and see whether you see what I and that little horror Cynthia have seen. If you do, the matter may be very awkward.”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t mean anything. Does anybody in the College know a butcher?”

“A butcher?”

Hamish led him to the cubicle and showed him the javelin.

“It struck me,” he said, “that one of our bright young lads might have amused himself by doing a bit of horror-faking, that’s all. What I’d like to know is how he got hold of the javelin.”

“There are a dozen in the sports cupboard.”

“None of them has an inscription, though, has it?” He indicated some chased lettering on a small silver plate affixed to a ring just below the binding of the grip on the javelin. “In my opinion, this belongs to Medlar. It must be the javelin which has disappeared from his collection. We both checked and it isn’t any longer among the trophies.”

“We’d better have him over, then. He ought to be in on this.”

While Hamish went back to the swimmers, Henry brought Gascoigne over and showed him the javelin. “And I wouldn’t touch it,” he said. “Fingerprints, you know.”

“Poppycock!” said Gascoigne. “Fingerprints have no value unless they are on record at a police station. However, I have no intention of touching the messy object. My opinion is that some practical joker has been daubing my javelin with red paint.”

“Oh, you recognize it as your javelin, do you? James has identified it, too, so I suppose it must be yours.”

“Certainly. If you look, you can see the inscription I had put on it. All the museum objects are inscribed or numbered. I wish I knew who has managed to gain access to the museum, though. The key has never been out of my possession except those days, some weeks ago, when James had it to catalogue the collection. He seems certain that none of the students could have obtained possession of the key, but people are always certain about that kind of thing. I must speak to him again.”

“Well, he’s here if you want him,” said Henry. “Incidentally, I’ve seen the students whom I set to searching the woods. There is no sign of Jonah.” He walked along the side of the bath to where Hamish was giving instruction. “Gassie craves a word,” he said.

Hamish ordered his learners out of the water and waylaid the girl Cynthia.

“Get your things out of your cubicle and find another one in which to dress,” he said. “I suppose it’s too much to ask you to keep quiet about what you’ve found?”

“Don’t touch the javelin,” said Gascoigne, as the girl prepared to enter the cubicle. “Just pick up your things and run along. I hope you are not the culprit who took the javelin from my museum?”

“I was sent here for running away from home, not for shoplifting, Gassie darling,” said the girl pertly.

At the high table that evening Jones’s chair was empty again. Hamish caught Henry casting an anxious glance at it. The students, too, seemed to be eyeing it. There was a subdued air about the dining-hall and voices were kept low. Gascoigne ate his dinner in almost complete silence and did not favour the senior common room with his presence at coffee after the meal.

“I’ve been on to him,” said Henry, when the Warden’s absence received comment from the others. “I’ve told him it’s more than time he called in the police to trace Jonah. Naturally he doesn’t want to, but now this javelin has been found, I don’t think he’s got any option. I don’t like this mysterious business. Jonah wasn’t popular, to say the least, and we’ve got more than one homicidal character on the premises. While Gassie is chewing things over, I want one of you to come with me to have a look round Jones’s quarters. I think I’d like a witness, in case he’s left any clue as to his whereabouts. I don’t care for the look of things at all, and I’m making no secret of the fact. I want an absolutely unbiased witness, so, James, I’d like you to accompany me.”

“Wouldn’t Medlar… ?” began Hamish.

“I’d sooner have you.”

Together they went to Jones’s rooms. Unlike the rest of the staff, he had been given a sitting-room as well as a bedroom and both were beautifully furnished.

“Plushy,” said Hamish. “All brother-in-lawly love, I take it.”

“I suppose so. I’ll look through the bureau if you’ll turn out the cupboard.”

They searched the sitting-room and then went into the bedroom. Apart from a good many empty bottles under the bed and some lively photographs under the clean shirts, there was little to indicate an individual taste or a positive personality. There were no letters and no unpaid bills, but neither did anything indicate that Jones might have packed up and taken an unceremonious departure. Henry and Hamish gave up their search and went to Henry’s own room. He made coffee and produced a bottle of brandy.

BOOK: A Javelin for Jonah
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