Kelsey, looking at Miss Bulstrode.
She shook her head. “No. Not that I know of. Nobody has said that they heard it. The Sports Pavilion is some distance away and I rather doubt if the shot would be noticeable.”
“Perhaps from one of the rooms on the side of the house giving on the Sports Pavilion?”
“Hardly, I think, unless one were listening for such a thing. I'm sure it wouldn't be loud enough to wake anybody up.”
“Well, thank you,” said Inspector Kelsey. “I'll be going out to the Sports Pavilion now.”
“I will come with you,” said Miss Bulstrode.
“Do you want me to come too?” asked Miss Johnson. “I will if you like. I mean it's no good shirking things, is it? I always feel that one must face whatever comes and...”
“Thank you,” said Inspector Kelsey, “there's no need, Miss Johnson. I wouldn't think of putting you to any further strain.”
“So awful,” said Miss Johnson, “it makes it worse to feel I didn't like her very much. In fact, we had a disagreement only last night in the Common Room. I stuck to it that too much P.T. was bad for some girls - the more delicate girls. Miss Springer said nonsense, that they were just the ones who needed it. Toned them up and made new women of them, she said. I said to her that really she didn't know everything though she might think she did. After all I have been professionally trained and I know a great deal more about delicacy and illness than Miss Springer does - did, though I've no doubt that Miss Springer knows everything about parallel bars and vaulting horses and coaching tennis. But, oh, dear, now I think of what's happened, I wish I hadn't said quite what I did. I suppose one always feels like that afterward when something dreadful has occurred. I really do blame myself.”
“Now sit down there, dear,” said Miss Bulstrode settling her on the sofa. “You just sit down and rest and pay no attention to any little disputes you may have had. Life would be very dull if we agreed with each other on every subject.”
Miss Johnson sat down shaking her head, then yawned. Miss Bulstrode followed Kelsey into the hall.
“I gave her rather a lot of brandy,” she said, apologetically. “It's made her a little voluble. But not confused, do you think?”
“No,” said Kelsey. “She gave quite a clear account of what happened.”
Miss Bulstrode led the way to the side door.
“Is this the way Miss Johnson and Miss Chadwick went out?”
“Yes. You see it leads straight onto the path through the rhododendrons there which comes out at the Sports Pavilion.”
The inspector had a powerful flashlight and he and Miss Bulstrode soon reached the building where the lights were now glaring.
“Fine bit of building,” said Kelsey, looking at it.
“It cost us a pretty penny,” said Miss Bulstrode, “but we can afford it,” she added serenely.
The open door led into a fair-sized room. There were lockers with the names of the various girls on them. At the end of the room there was a stand for tennis racquets and one for lacrosse sticks. The door at the side led off to showers and changing cubicles. Kelsey paused before going in. Two of his men had been busy. A photographer had just finished his job and another man who was busy testing for fingerprints looked up and said:
“You can walk straight across the floor, sir. You'll be all right. We haven't finished down this end yet.”
Kelsey walked forward to where the police surgeon was kneeling by the body. The latter looked up as Kelsey approached.
“She was shot from about four feet away,” he said. “Bullet penetrated the heart. Death must have been pretty well instantaneous.”
“Shot from the front?”
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
“Say an hour or thereabouts.”
Kelsey nodded. He strolled round to look at the tall figure of Miss Chadwick where she stood grimly, like a watchdog against one wall. About fifty-five, he judged, good forehead, obstinate mouth, untidy grey hair,
She shook her head. “No. Not that I know of. Nobody has said that they heard it. The Sports Pavilion is some distance away and I rather doubt if the shot would be noticeable.”
“Perhaps from one of the rooms on the side of the house giving on the Sports Pavilion?”
“Hardly, I think, unless one were listening for such a thing. I'm sure it wouldn't be loud enough to wake anybody up.”
“Well, thank you,” said Inspector Kelsey. “I'll be going out to the Sports Pavilion now.”
“I will come with you,” said Miss Bulstrode.
“Do you want me to come too?” asked Miss Johnson. “I will if you like. I mean it's no good shirking things, is it? I always feel that one must face whatever comes and...”
“Thank you,” said Inspector Kelsey, “there's no need, Miss Johnson. I wouldn't think of putting you to any further strain.”
“So awful,” said Miss Johnson, “it makes it worse to feel I didn't like her very much. In fact, we had a disagreement only last night in the Common Room. I stuck to it that too much P.T. was bad for some girls - the more delicate girls. Miss Springer said nonsense, that they were just the ones who needed it. Toned them up and made new women of them, she said. I said to her that really she didn't know everything though she might think she did. After all I have been professionally trained and I know a great deal more about delicacy and illness than Miss Springer does - did, though I've no doubt that Miss Springer knows everything about parallel bars and vaulting horses and coaching tennis. But, oh, dear, now I think of what's happened, I wish I hadn't said quite what I did. I suppose one always feels like that afterward when something dreadful has occurred. I really do blame myself.”
“Now sit down there, dear,” said Miss Bulstrode settling her on the sofa. “You just sit down and rest and pay no attention to any little disputes you may have had. Life would be very dull if we agreed with each other on every subject.”
Miss Johnson sat down shaking her head, then yawned. Miss Bulstrode followed Kelsey into the hall.
“I gave her rather a lot of brandy,” she said, apologetically. “It's made her a little voluble. But not confused, do you think?”
“No,” said Kelsey. “She gave quite a clear account of what happened.”
Miss Bulstrode led the way to the side door.
“Is this the way Miss Johnson and Miss Chadwick went out?”
“Yes. You see it leads straight onto the path through the rhododendrons there which comes out at the Sports Pavilion.”
The inspector had a powerful flashlight and he and Miss Bulstrode soon reached the building where the lights were now glaring.
“Fine bit of building,” said Kelsey, looking at it.
“It cost us a pretty penny,” said Miss Bulstrode, “but we can afford it,” she added serenely.
The open door led into a fair-sized room. There were lockers with the names of the various girls on them. At the end of the room there was a stand for tennis racquets and one for lacrosse sticks. The door at the side led off to showers and changing cubicles. Kelsey paused before going in. Two of his men had been busy. A photographer had just finished his job and another man who was busy testing for fingerprints looked up and said:
“You can walk straight across the floor, sir. You'll be all right. We haven't finished down this end yet.”
Kelsey walked forward to where the police surgeon was kneeling by the body. The latter looked up as Kelsey approached.
“She was shot from about four feet away,” he said. “Bullet penetrated the heart. Death must have been pretty well instantaneous.”
“Shot from the front?”
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
“Say an hour or thereabouts.”
Kelsey nodded. He strolled round to look at the tall figure of Miss Chadwick where she stood grimly, like a watchdog against one wall. About fifty-five, he judged, good forehead, obstinate mouth, untidy grey hair,
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