Death Has Deep Roots Read Online Free PDF

1940. He left his public school in 1937. Those are the three years we are most interested in. He must have made some friends. What did he do? How did he earn his living?”
    “He spoke of a School of Preparation.”
    “A School of Preparation.” The Rumbolds looked at each other thoughtfully.
    “The School of Preparation of Saint Augustine.”
    “Sounds Anglo-Catholic,” said Mr. Rumbold. “I’ll have to get hold of Father Pasteur.”
    “He was a professeur at this school.”
    “Good gracious me,” said Mr. Rumbold. “I should hardly have thought – at that age – he had only just left school himself you say.”
    Light dawned.
    “You mean he was a master – at a preparatory school.”
    “A preparatory school, yes.”
    “St. Augustine’s Preparatory School for Boys. Boys prepared for all the leading public schools and the Royal Navy. A staff of graduates and a lady matron. Whilst every effort is made to develop a boy’s natural abilities, ‘cramming’is not encouraged.”
    “You know it, then?”
    “I’ve heard of it,” said Nap. “It’s one of the better known prep schools. It’s not far from Winchester, I believe.”
    “Well, that’s one line,” said Mr. Rumbold cheerfully. “It really sounds very promising. It covers just the time we want – after he left school, and before he joined the army. Now what about the other side – your side of the story, mademoiselle. France.”
    “Of that,” said Vicky, “I will tell you all.”

 
Chapter Five
     
    “So you see,” said Nap. “It’s really a three-man job.”
    “It has the look of it,” agreed Major McCann.
    “I shall have to go across to Angers, as soon as I’ve arranged the necessary contacts. My father will be up to his eyebrows in the legal work. We wanted you to look up these people in England – down at Winchester.”
    “I haven’t just all the time in the world to go stravaiging about England for you. However—”
    He looked at his wife.
    “It can’t take more than a week. If we don’t do it in a week, we shan’t do it at all.”
    “Hmph.”
    “Go on,” said his wife. “You’re spoiling for it. There isn’t all that much work to do, now the summer’s over and the Americans have gone home. I can manage for a week. I managed alone for five years before I married you.”
    “Well, then.” McCann stirred his tea thoughtfully. “Give us the strength of it.”
    They were sitting in the landlord’s parlor, on the first floor of the Leopard; which, as you know, is one of the Shepherd Market houses. It was a comfortable little room, designed equally for eating, working and sitting, and the first fire of autumn was alight in the grate.
    “There’s one thing we’ll have to get clear,” said McCann at the end of Nap’s recital. “How do we stand with the police?”
    “I should like notice of that question,” said Nap. “I think that we stand where the defence in a capital charge always stands. The police are as equally bound to help us as they are to help the prosecution.”
    “I should have thought,” said Kitty McCann, “that human nature being what it is—”
    “Yes, I know. I know what you’re going to say. The police have got the case up, and they don’t want to see it flop. But honestly, I think that most police officers take the reasonable view that a miscarriage of justice does them more harm – in the end – than an acquittal. I’m fairly confident that would be Hazlerigg’s view—”
    “It isn’t Hazlerigg’s case, is it?”
    “No. It’s a chap called Partridge. Inspector Partridge. The D.D.I. of that division. I don’t know him at all.”
    “And you wouldn’t mind me seeing Hazlerigg – you’ll remember he’s a friend of mine.”
    “No,” said Nap. “I’m sure we shouldn’t. He mayn’t be able to help, but it can’t do any harm. They’re bound to know that we shall work like beavers on such facts as we have got. Only – I shouldn’t be too explicit about the exact