The Murdered Schoolgirl: A Classic Crime Novel. John Russell Fearn

The Murdered Schoolgirl: A Classic Crime Novel - John Russell Fearn


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You may not know it, though, ma’am; it is only a little place, Elmington. A Surrey village.”

      “No, I don’t know of it,” Maria admitted. “I—”

      “If you will excuse me, Miss Black,” Major Hasleigh interrupted, putting down the syllabus, “these terms are quite acceptable. Money is no object. As much as you require in advance, just as long as my little girl is happy and safe, as I know she will be with you.… I am telling you this before your—er—Miss Tanby arrives.”

      “Miss Tanby is my Housemistress,” Maria explained, and at that moment there came a knock on the door and the pale but deadly efficient Eunice Tanby came in.

      “You wish to speak to me, Miss Black?” she asked, glancing at the visitors.

      “I do, Miss Tanby—on a rather urgent matter of placing a new pupil. Meet Major Hasleigh and his daughter Frances.… Miss Tanby, my Housemistress.”

      Tanby smiled with colourless lips; then Maria got to her feet.

      “I was wondering, Miss Tanby, if there is room in Study F in the New House for this young lady? I assigned two pupils to it only the other day—”

      “Yes, Miss Black—Beryl Mather and Joan Dawson.”

      “Splendid! That leaves room for one more.… Three to a study is the general rule,” Maria explained, turning. “Well, Major, that settles everything.”

      “I’m so glad,” he said earnestly. “As to the terms—”

      “I am sure we can attend to that most satisfactorily,” Maria interposed. “Miss Tanby, I will leave Miss Hasleigh in your care. Have her bags taken to Study F, show her the room yourself, and then I feel certain that in your own inimitable way you will make her feel at home.… Thank you for coming so promptly.”

      Tanby shrugged, accustomed to abrupt dismissals. She waited while the girl took leave of her father—yet endearing though it was, Maria noted they did not kiss each other.… Then Tanby took the girl’s arm and led her from the room.

      Maria sat down again, her cold eyes on the major’s face.

      “I am prepared,” he said, “to pay a year’s fee in advance. It may be at least a year before I am back in England—”

      “That’s very generous of you,” Maria said, “but it also raises a point which I must clarify, Major. Your daughter might be taken seriously ill—she might be injured or even killed in an air raid; or unwittingly get involved in criminal circumstances. If that should happen, to whom am I to turn?”

      “Good Lord!” The major gave a start. “Air raids apart, I am sure there is no need to fear. She is a healthy girl and very quiet. As for criminal circumstances— Really, Miss Black!”

      “Such things have happened,” Maria stated, unmoved. “It is one of the regulations set down by our Board of Governors. Take a small instance. If your daughter were down with double pneumonia and I had no relative to contact, where would I be?”

      “I see,” Hasleigh muttered. “Well, I am not allowed to hand on my own address abroad with my unit for security reasons—but I’ll tell you what you can do!” His eyes gleamed in sudden inspiration. “In case of emergency call on my sister-in-law—Mrs. Clevedon, The Willows, Sundale, Essex. As the wife of a big financier she will have plenty of influence in case of anything—er—criminal,” he finished, drily.

      “Much obliged, Major.” Maria made a note of the address. “I have to do it because in wartime—forgive me—you might never return—”

      He laughed. “I’m fully aware of that. As to other matters on the financial side, just communicate with this bank and they will attend to it.”

      Maria took the cheque he had written out—an account drawn on the Elmington Branch Bank, Surrey. She nodded, then said:

      “I shall need your daughter’s ration book and identity card if you please. So many regulations these days, unhappily.”

      “Yes, of course.” He pulled out his wallet and handed them both over. Both ration book and identity card had a new label on the front, reading—Frances Hasleigh, c/o Roseway College, Sussex.

      “So you anticipated results, Major?” Maria smiled.

      “I did, yes. I had Frances transfer her address the moment she thought of coming here. It was a risk—but it came off, I’m glad to say.”

      Maria put the cards in her desk drawer; then as she and the major reached the door of her study, she said casually:

      “Since you are liable to be away a long time, Major, perhaps you would like to carry in your memory a picture of where your daughter will work, play, and sleep?”

      “Well, I—” He hesitated. “I don’t want to take up a lot of your time on account of my sentiment, Miss Black.”

      “Not at all; daughters are very precious.… Just come with me.”

      Maria swept out into the passageway and thereupon began a majestic parade. There was something magical about the way under-teachers, stray pupils, and occasional members of the domestic staff fell away from about her as she advanced.

      In turn she took the major at a rather breathless speed to the classrooms—where a dead silence descended while she explained the finer points—then up to the long, cool Sixth Form dormitory, shaded against the blaze of the summer sun; and up again to the solarium and gymnasium, with its endless equipment for improving the physique and maintaining the health. It was in this big room, with its trapezes and parallel-bars, that the major gave a sharp glance at three instruments standing against the wall.

      “Are those ultraviolet machines?” he asked quickly.

      Maria nodded. “A most useful adjunct of modern science, Major, and used by quite a lot of my pupils, especially those with inherently pale skins who feel they might improve themselves by a little—hmm!—tan.”

      “My daughter is never to use one!” Major Hasleigh declared harshly.

      Maria raised her eyebrows. “My dear Major, it is purely a matter of personal choice. None of my pupils is forced to use ultraviolet. If your daughter does not wish to make use of the treatment, that is her own affair entirely.”

      “I am worried that she may be forced into it. There is that kind of thing to reckon with among girls.”

      “I presume,” Maria said, rather coldly, “that there is a definite reason for this rather—er—arbitrary request?”

      “A medical one. Something she doesn’t know about.”

      Maria shrugged. “As you wish, Major. I will give definite instructions of your wishes to the Housemistress and the physical instructor.… Now, shall we proceed?”

      “Yes, of course.”

      But for the major all interest seemed to have gone. Besides, Maria took him from place to place with such speed that he had hardly time to absorb the virtues of the swimming bath, the dining room, the chapel, and other amenities. He was quite breathless by the time he was conducted back to the steps of the main building and given Maria’s firm handclasp as his farewell.

      From the top of the School House steps she watched him go across the quadrangle—then she returned to her study and sat down.

      Pondering, she studied the cheque again. Finally she made up her mind and rang up the bank itself in Elmington, Surrey, and for some reason she felt quite rebuffed when she learned that the account of Major Hasleigh was completely in order.

      “Extremely peculiar,” she muttered. “Maybe I need the opinion of a second person—”

      Once again she summoned Miss Tanby over the house telephone, and like the slave of the lamp the Housemistress reappeared with silent promptness.

      “I have had to leave the Sixth Form in the


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