Cat Among the Pigeons - Agatha Christie [47]
“I don’t think so, at the moment. The only thing I can ask is, has anything caused you uneasiness this term? Any incident? Or any person?”
Miss Bulstrode was silent for a moment or two. Then she said slowly:
“The answer, literally, is: I don’t know.”
Adam said quickly:
“You’ve got a feeling that something’s wrong?”
“Yes—just that. It’s not definite. I can’t put my finger on any person, or any incident—unless—”
She was silent for a moment, then she said:
“I feel—I felt at the time—that I’d missed something that I ought not to have missed. Let me explain.”
She recited briefly the little incident of Mrs. Upjohn and the distressing and unexpected arrival of Lady Veronica.
Adam was interested.
“Let me get this clear, Miss Bulstrode. Mrs. Upjohn, looking out of the window, this front window that gives on the drive, recognized someone. There’s nothing in that. You have over a hundred pupils and nothing is more likely than for Mrs. Upjohn to see some parent or relation that she knew. But you are definitely of the opinion that she was astonished to recognize that person—in fact, that it was someone whom she would not have expected to see at Meadowbank?”
“Yes, that was exactly the impression I got.”
“And then through the window looking in the opposite direction you saw one of the pupils’ mothers, in a state of intoxication, and that completely distracted your mind from what Mrs. Upjohn was saying?”
Miss Bulstrode nodded.
“She was talking for some minutes?”
“Yes.”
“And when your attention did return to her, she was speaking of espionage, of Intelligence work she had done in the war before she married?”
“Yes.”
“It might tie up,” said Adam thoughtfully. “Someone she had known in her war days. A parent or relation of one of your pupils, or it could have been a member of your teaching staff.”
“Hardly a member of my staff,” objected Miss Bulstrode.
“It’s possible.”
“We’d better get in touch with Mrs. Upjohn,” said Kelsey. “As soon as possible. You have her address, Miss Bulstrode?”
“Of course. But I believe she is abroad at the moment. Wait—I will find out.”
She pressed her desk buzzer twice, then went impatiently to the door and called to a girl who was passing.
“Find Julia Upjohn for me, will you, Paula?”
“Yes, Miss Bulstrode.”
“I’d better go before the girl comes,” Adam said. “It wouldn’t be natural for me to assist in the inquiries the Inspector is making. Ostensibly he’s called me in here to get the lowdown on me. Having satisfied himself that he’s got nothing on me for the moment, he now tells me to take myself off.”
“Take yourself off and remember I’ve got my eye on you!” growled Kelsey with a grin.
“By the way,” said Adam, addressing Miss Bulstrode as he paused by the door, “will it be all right with you if I slightly abuse my position here? If I get, shall we say, a little too friendly with some members of your staff?”
“With which members of my staff?”
“Well—Mademoiselle Blanche, for instance.”
“Mademoiselle Blanche? You think that she—?”
“I think she’s rather bored here.”
“Ah!” Miss Bulstrode looked rather grim. “Perhaps you’re right. Anyone else?”
“I shall have a good try all round,” said Adam cheerfully. “If you should find that some of your girls are being rather silly, and slipping off to assignations in the garden, please believe that my intentions are strictly sleuthial—if there is such a word.”
“You think the girls are likely to know something?”
“Everybody always knows something,” said Adam, “even if it’s something they don’t know they know.”
“You may be right.”
There was a knock on the door, and Miss Bulstrode called—“Come in.”
Julia Upjohn appeared, very much out of breath.
“Come in, Julia.”
Inspector Kelsey growled.
“You can go now, Goodman. Take yourself off and get on with your work.”
“I’ve told you I don’t know a thing about anything,” said Adam sulkily. He went out, muttering “Blooming Gestapo.”
“I’m sorry I’m so out of breath, Miss Bulstrode,” apologized Julia. “I’ve run all the way from the tennis courts.”
“That’s quite all right. I just wanted to ask you