Dead Man’s Shoes Read Online Free PDF Page B

criminology. Mr Gorringer felt relief at this, tempered by his doubts about the coming holidays. He knew, from past experience, that Carolus was apt to find scope for his talents out of term time as well as while he should have been improving the discipline of his classes, which the headmaster considered lamentable.
    On the last afternoon of term, which was also the day on which the
Saragossa
docked in London, Mr Gorringer saw Carolus entering the school gates and decided that in a tactful and amicable way he should discover what were the history master’s plans for the holidays.
    Carolus had nothing of the pedagogue about him. He was in his early forties, a slim, dapper man, who was considered by the rest of the staff to be far too dressy and casual. He had been in a parachute regiment during the war, but gave the impression of being rather too precious for this or for the half blue he had gained for boxing. Mr Gorringer knew his value as a teacher with a gift for interesting his pupils, but sometimes rather resented his off-hand manner.
    â€œAh, Deene,” he said now as they met. “So we wind up another term. You have doubtless made your holiday plans?”
    â€œNothing definite yet. I never decide till the last moment.”
    â€œThat would not do for me, I fear. Much of the pleasure is in anticipation.”
    â€œBut you always go to Ostend, don’t you?”
    â€œOstend
and
Bruges. They suit Mrs Gorringer admirably. We like a quiet and
uneventful
holiday.”
    The headmaster glanced suspiciously at Carolus as he emphasized the word.
    â€œNot much chance of that for me,” said Carolus. “Something always seems to happen.”
    â€œIs it not that you seek it, my dear Deene? I suppose we could all find excitements if we looked for them. Your predilection for the more puzzling forms of crime surely leads you into these deep waters.”
    â€œYou may be right.”
    â€œHad you, I wonder, anything in prospect just now?” Mr Gorringer sounded anxious.
    â€œI’m not committed to anything. There have been some nice little jobs done lately.”
    â€œI trust, my dear Deene, that you haven’t it in mind to embroil yourself in another of these cases which bring their measure of unwelcome publicity to the school? You know my feelings in that. I have no wish to intrude into your private affairs or to attempt to influence your conduct, but we cannot allow the fair name of the Queen’s School to be bandied about in sensational newspapers.”
    â€œNo need for it at all. I never mention the school.”
    â€œUnhappily, however, the school’s fame goes ahead of you. However, I am sure you will remember, if you should involve yourself again, that discretion is the word. Now what have you this afternoon? Ah yes, the Junior Sixth. They achieved a fair standard in the examinations, I trust?”
    â€œPretty good.”
    â€œHow about the boy Priggley? A difficult young man, I always feel.”
    â€œHe did quite well.”
    â€œAn unfortunate home life, of course.”
    â€œNo home life at all. His mother’s marrying again—the third time. His father has taken an artist’s model to Italy.”
    â€œDear, dear. One can scarcely wonder that the boy is in need of guidance.”
    â€œGuidance? He needs the birch and a couple of years on Dartmoor. But he’s not unintelligent.”
    â€œPrecocious, I fear, and, as you say, lacking discipline. If I should not see you again I trust you have a pleasant holiday. And remember—discretion, my dear Deene, for all our sakes. I must have a word with Tubley,” he added hastily as he moved away. “Ah, Tubley!” Carolus heard him call to the music master.
    Carolus went into his classroom and faced the Junior Sixth, a class which consisted of most of the former Senior Fifth with a few youths who had failed to gain admittance to the school’s top class, the Senior Sixth. Among