It was only when they had made the round of the Gardens and were sitting idly on the bank of the river that Peter, wrenching his attention back to the sordid present, remarked suddenly:
“I think I shall have to pay a visit to a friend of yours. Do you know how Jukes came to be caught with the stuff on him?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“The police got an anonymous letter.”
“Not-?”
“Yes. One of them there. By the way, did you ever try and find out what was to have been the last word of that message to you? The one we found in the Science Lecture Room?”
“No-she couldn’t have finished it, anyhow. There wasn’t a single vowel left in the box. Not even a B and a dash!”
“That was an oversight. I thought so. Well, Harriet, it’s easy to put a name to the person we want, isn’t it? But proof’s a different matter. We’ve tied the thing up so tight. That lecture-room episode was meant to be the last of the nocturnal prowls, and it probably will be. And the best bit of evidence will be at the bottom of the river by this time. It’s too late to seal the doors and set a watch.”
“On whom?”
“Surely you know by this time? You must know, Harriet, if you’re giving your mind to the thing at all. Opportunity, means, motive-doesn’t it stand out a mile? For God’s sake, put your prejudices aside and think it out. What’s happened to you that you can’t put two and two together?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well,” said he drily, “if you really don’t know, it’s not for me to tell you. But if you will turn your attention for one moment to the matter in hand and go through your own dossier of the case carefully-”
“Undeterred by any casual sonnets I may find by the way?”
“Undeterred by any personal consideration whatever,” he burst out, almost angrily. “No; you’re quite right. That was a stupidity. My talent for standing in my own light amounts to genius, doesn’t it? But when you have come to a conclusion about all this, will you remember that it was I who asked you to take a dispassionate view and who to that of all devils let loose in the world there was no devil like devoted love… I don’t mean passion. Passion’s a good, stupid horse that will pull the plough six days a week if you give him the run of his heels on Sundays. But love’s a nervous, awkward, over-mastering brute; if you can’t rein him, it’s best to have no truck with him.”
“That sounds very topsy-turvy,” said Harriet, mildly. But his unwonted excitement had already flickered out.
“I’m only walking on my head, after the manner of clowns. If we went along to Shrewsbury now, do you think the Warden would see me?”
Later in the day, Dr. Baring sent for Harriet.
“Lord Peter Wimsey has been to see me,” she said, “with a rather curious proposition which, after a little consideration, I refused. He told me that he was almost certain in his own mind of the identity of the-the offender, but that he was not in a position at the moment to offer a complete proof. He also said that the person had, he thought, taken the alarm, and would be doubly careful from now on to escape detection. The alarm might, in fact, be sufficient to prevent farther outbreaks until the end of the term at any rate; but as soon as our vigilance was relaxed, the trouble would probably break out again in a more violent form. I said that that would be very unsatisfactory, and he agreed. He asked whether he should name the person to me, in order that a careful watch might be kept upon her movements. I said I saw two objections to that: first, that the person might discover that she was being spied upon and merely increase her caution, and secondly, that if he happened to be mistaken as to the offender’s identity, the person spied upon would be subjected to the most intolerable suspicions. Supposing, I said, the persecutions merely ceased, and we were left suspecting this person-who might be quite innocent-without proof either way. He replied that those were precisely the objections that had occurred to him. Do you know the name of the person to whom he alludes. Miss Vane?”
“No,” said Harriet, who had been exercising her wits in the interval. “I am beginning to have an idea; but I can’t make it fit. In fact, I simply can’t believe it.”
“Very well. Lord Peter then made a very remarkable proposition. He asked whether I would allow him to interrogate this person privately, in the hope of surprising her into some admission. He said that if this bluff, as he called it, came off, the culprit could then make her confession to me and be suffered to depart quietly, or be dealt with medically, as we might decide was advisable. If, however, it did not come off and the person denied everything, we might be placed in a very disagreeable position. I replied that I quite saw that and could not possibly consent to have such methods used upon anybody in this College. To which he replied that that was exactly what he had expected me to say.
“I then asked him what evidence, if any, he had against this person. He said that all his evidence was circumstantial; that he hoped to have more of it in the course of the next few days, but that in default of a fresh outbreak and the capture of the culprit red-handed, he doubted whether any direct evidence could be produced at this stage. I inquired whether there was any reason why we should not at least wait for the production of the additional evidence.”
Dr. Baring paused and looked keenly at Harriet.
“He replied that there was only one reason, and that was that the culprit, instead of becoming more cautious, might throw caution to the winds and proceed to direct violence. ‘In which case,’ he said, ‘we should very likely catch her, but only at the cost of somebody’s death or serious injury.’ I asked what persons were threatened with death or injury. He said the most probable victims were-yourself, Miss de Vine and another person whom he could not name, but whose existence, he said, he deduced. He also surprised me by saying that an abortive attack had already been made upon you. Is that true?”
“I shouldn’t have put it as strongly as that,” said Harriet. She briefly outlined the story of the telephone call. At the name of Miss Hillyard, the Warden looked up:
“Do I understand that you entertain a definite suspicion of Miss Hillyard?”
“If I did,” said Harriet, cautiously, “I shouldn’t be the only person to do so. But I’m bound to say that she doesn’t seem to fit in at all with the line of Lord Peter’s inquiries, so far as I am acquainted with them.”
“I am glad to hear you say that,” replied Dr. Baring. “Representations have been made to me which-in default of evidence-I have been very unwilling to listen to.”
So Dr. Baring had kept abreast of the feeling in the S.C.R. Miss Allison and Mrs. Goodwin had probably been talking. Well!
“In the end,” pursued the Warden, “I informed Lord Peter that I thought it would be better to wait for the further evidence. But that decision must, of course, be subject to the willingness of yourself and Miss de Vine to face the risks involved. The willingness of the unknown third party cannot, naturally, be ascertained.”
“I don’t in the least mind what risks I take,” said Harriet. “But Miss de Vine ought to be warned, I suppose.”
“That is what I said. Lord Peter agreed.”
So, thought Harriet, something has decided him to acquit Miss de Vine. I’m glad. Unless this is a Machiavellian ruse to throw her off her guard. “Have you said anything to Miss de Vine, Warden?”
“Miss de Vine is in Town, and will not return till tomorrow evening. I propose to speak to her then.”
So there was nothing to do but to wait. And in the meantime, Harriet became aware of a curious change in the atmosphere of the Senior Common Room. It was as though they had lost sight of their mutual distrust and their general apprehensions and had drawn together like spectators at the ringside to watch another kind of conflict, in which she was one of the principals. The curious tension thus produced was scarcely relieved by the Dean’s announcement to a few select spirits that in her opinion, Flaxman’s young man had given her the chuck and serve her right; to which Miss Flaxman’s tutor sourly replied that she wished people wouldn’t have these upheavals in the Summer Term, but that, fortunately, Miss Flaxman didn’t take her final Schools till next year. This prompted Harriet to ask Miss Shaw how Miss Newland was getting on. It appeared that Miss Newland was doing well, having completely got over the shock of her immersion in the Cherwell, so that her chances for a First looked pretty good.