Death Drop

"Describe him "

"About ten or eleven, small build, red hair. He had been frightened to the point of throwing up " He went on to tell Bra

"Yes."

"Then you've a problem on your hands – a nasty one. I didn't tell you because you've worry enough with the Fleming case. I intended telling you after the inquest. That was a misjudgment on my part. I'm sorry."

Bra

"Yes – with fright. And his hands had been tied. He managed to loosen the knot" He didn't add that he had dropped the tie in the bushes – a temporary tidying away of a disturbing situation "It's more than normal bullying. I thought you were fussing too much over Fleming's accident Now I'm not at all sure that it was an accident. I won't say so at the inquest, of course, but I'm telling you. Praemomtus, praemumtus. Forewarned is forearmed. You see, I haven't forgotten my Latin." He smiled wetly, but with genuine sympathy. "Damned good school this."

Alison waited until he had gone before returning. "What did he want?"

He decided not to tell her. "He'd heard about Corley – through Goldthorpe."

"And by the look of you made you see how serious it is. The school's good name is being ruined by an irresponsible little brat… Where are you going?" He was walking over to the door.

He nearly said, To breathe – to get away from yon. "To my study. Durrant can make his phone call to his mother from there."

"Durrant? You're bothered about Durrant – now? At a time like this?"

Yes, lie thought, he was particularly bothered about Durrant at a time like this.

He sent for Hammond first. He had asked him to make the phone call as quickly as he could. "Or she'll keep hogging the line." He hadn't bothered asking him the result of it. He asked him now.

Hammond said mildly, "She's crazy. I told her the boy had started the term with eight pounds in his account – and that if any more money had come through he would have given it to me to bank for him. She wanted to know if I opened his letters. I said my duties here were to teach not to run a censorship department."

Unwise, Bra

"She didn't take that kindly. She even had the gall to talk about a moral duty to open his letters. Moral duty! Mrs. Durrant!" It was the only fu

"And then?"

"And then one of the new lads – Wilkinson – ran down the corridor in a pair of football boots, with one of the other lads after him. You know the rule about that. He dislodged a piece of parquet – the bit that's just been repaired where the damp was getting through."

"And you cut Mrs. Durrant off and attended to it."

"Quite."

"Do you think the lad's father sent him any money?"

"No, Headmaster. Do you?"

"No," Bra

It took Hammond nearly half an hour to find Durrant and in that time Bra

Durrant knocked at the door and came in. "You want to see me, sir?"

In some odd way some of the boy's obsequiousness had gone. He had never exactly grovelled before Bra

He came crisply to the point "How much money did you spend on your mother's camera, Durrant?"

The question visibly took the boy off-balance. "What do you mean, sir? What camera?"

"Don't stall. I haven't time for that. The camera you gave her for her birthday. It was to have been a book of Keats – obviously you changed your mind."

Durrant lost an inch or two. "Not very much, sir. I had meant to buy her the book of poems, sir. But I saw the camera in Franklin's – the nearly new shop at the corner of Brook Street."

"How much did you give for it?"

"Four pounds fifty." His voice became ingratiating. "And then I bought the razor, sir. The one you told me to buy." He rubbed his chin. "It does a good job, sir."

"Have you a receipt?"

"For the razor?" He saw Bra

"Have you a lot of money? From your father – for instance?"

Durrani's surprise was genuine – so much so that he didn't answer. He seemed to be casting around in his mind for the reason behind such a stupid question. At last he thought he'd found it. "That money you advanced me, sir. You did get it back, didn't you? I told Mr. Hammond about it and asked him to give it back to you."

"Yes, I did get it back. Have you had a substantial sum of money from anyone recently?"

"Chance would be a fine…" Again he caught Bra

"Your mother seems to think you have. She phoned me this morning and wants to speak to you. You might as well make the phone call now." He indicated the brown leather armchair. "Go and sit over there and take the phone with you. I have this paper-work to see to." He implied that Durrant would disturb him less if he didn't make the phone call at the desk. Durrant hesitated. Bra

As Durrant picked up the telephone and began to dial, Bra

He was a child now.

His whole attitude as he got through to his mother dropped years off him. His obvious delight as he heard her voice showed in the slight flush in his cheeks and in the relaxing of his attitude. He sat more comfortably in the chair, cradling the telephone base on his knee, stroking the flex absently with his left hand.

"Many happy returns for Tuesday. Did you like my card? And the present?"

Bra

"What do you mean… my father?… Why should he?… What friend?… I don't think I know that friend (there was ice in his own voice now)… How would your friend know?… Eighty pounds (genuine surprise)… You think I spent eighty pounds?… If I had it, then I would – on you."

Bra

Durrant said bleakly, "No, I don't see my father much… No, he doesn't write much – and you don't either… I'm not changing the subject… If you want to believe your friend and not me… (A long unintelligible tirade which seemed to drive needles into Durrant's skin and leave small flushed areas of distress on his face)… All right, I know… I'm not criticising… Yes, you must have someone… I know you do… I wasn't trying to… It was just a present I thought you'd like… I'm sorry you don't like it… Why keep on about that? I know money's important… Yes, I will tell my father if he… No, I'm not lying about that… I haven't any… If I had I'd let you…" (the voice becoming dry, the words difficult to form).