Chapter 14 #2
“Who was that?” Willie asked.
“The superintendent, as I guessed.”
“That’s why you were so keen to show him the way! They let you stay in the snug?”
“I sat down in a corner and stayed quiet as a mouse. Parry forgot me and Alec and Underwood weren’t keen to draw his attention.”
“Is Parry going to ask Alec to help?”
“They hadn’t really decided when I left.”
“You were kicked out,” Isabel guessed.
“Yes, but before that … The most extraordinary thing happened. Cartwright came rushing in, babbling—”
“Wait a minute,” said Willie. “Cartwright? Vera’s Cartwright?”
“Her headmaster, yes. He insisted that ‘she’ was lying about him, which rather baffled the coppers as he’d barely been mentioned.”
“‘She’ being Vera?” Isabel asked.
“He refused to say, once he understood that no one had been saying anything, true or false, about him. But I’m certain Alec and Underwood assumed it was Vera, and the superintendent was pretty quick on the uptake.
Underwood must have told him on the phone about you three.
He knew Vera was a teacher, so he put two and two together.
By that time, Cartwright had backed down and denied any connection with the case.
He departed with as much haste as he’d arrived. ”
“He never explained what he was talking about?”
“No, but they’re going to take a statement from him. Did Vera tell you what he did that started the fuss?”
Isabel frowned. “Yes. She said I could tell Willie, but she couldn’t make up her mind about you, Daisy. Sorry, she feels she doesn’t know you well enough.”
“Never mind.” Daisy did her best to repress her bursting curiosity. “I understand.”
“Iz, we ought to tell her—not what he did, since Vera is so embarrassed about it, but what Cartwright said afterwards.”
“Well … all right. He threatened that if she reported … what he’d done, he’d easily convince people it was all her fault. Everyone would take his word over hers. She’d be disgraced and she’d lose her job.”
“And all three of us would have to leave the district,” Willie added. “The trouble is, he’s right. He’s a pillar of the community. We’re strangers, and ‘superfluous women.’ No one would believe her.”
Daisy couldn’t deny it. “However, the situation has changed. I still can’t see what it has to do with the murder, but the police are going to dig until they’re sure of that. I doubt they can keep it quiet, even if they try. If you ask me, Vera should make a clean breast of it.”
“That’s what I told her,” said Isabel. “She refused to go to the police—the inspector or even your husband—so I persuaded her to go and talk to Mr. Turnbull, the rector. She can’t postpone it till tomorrow because of school. She was putting on her hat as I left.”
“Oh good! At least someone will know the truth before the rumours start flying.”
“And someone with plenty of credibility,” Willie pointed out.
“One would hope so!”
“What’s more, it’s a church school, for what that’s worth, so the rector is probably on the board of governors.”
“What still baffles me,” said Daisy, “is why Cartwright assumed the police were investigating his misbehaviour towards Vera. I suppose he walked or drove past Cherry Trees, fortuitously or because he’s been keeping an eye on her.”
“He hasn’t got a car. Teachers in church primary schools aren’t paid at all well, even the head in such a small school.
In fact, before what happened, Vera told me he’d been complaining to her that his wife nags him for wasting his talents for such low pay.
One of the things she wants is a car, apparently.
He claimed to Vera to be dedicated to teaching.
Vera says he’s dedicated to power, even if it’s just power over a classroom full of children.
He’s a great knuckle-rapper, is Cartwright. ”
“If he bullies children, it’s not surprising he would bully his subordinate.” Daisy returned to her theory. “He could have walked past the house. He would have seen the police there, and then he heard they were here, too.”
“Or vice versa,” said Willie.
“Or vice versa,” Daisy agreed. “But was whatever happened with Vera so criminal as to require so large a police presence?”
“No,” said Isabel. “I’m certain the police would have taken no action whatsoever if she had reported it.”
“Guilty conscience, then. And now it’s his own fault that it will all come out. It does seem to me, though, that it rules him out as the murderer.”
“Yes,” Willie said sadly. “Much as I’d love to see him arrested, he’d hardly have drawn attention to himself if that were the case.”
“Unless,” said Daisy, “it’s a deliberate red herring, as Vaughn asking for Mrs. Gray’s address may be. Cartwright might hope that bringing attention to the lesser offence will throw them off the track for the greater.”
“Could it work?” Isabel asked.
“Unlikely. The police—the CID, that is—see through much more complicated ruses. But he may have a low opinion of the local police—”
“Not surprising if he takes Sergeant Harris for an example!”
“Or Cartwright may just be really, really stupid. Not unintelligent, perhaps, but lacking in common sense. At any rate, having thrust himself into the middle of a murder investigation, he’s going to find himself thoroughly investigated.”