I took the note, which was written on the back of a folded envelope. “Of course it’s a note,” I said crossly. “And don’t even try to pretend you haven’t already looked at it. I don’t know why you’re suddenly so interested in my comings and goings. Or is this all just a very dull form of German trick-or-treating?”

“Straitley, read the note,” said Devine.

I unfolded the envelope. The note was only a few lines long; the writing small and even.

Dear Mr. Straitley,

I’m sorry I wasn’t able to speak with you this evening. I’m setting off on a trip tonight, and I was hoping to talk to you first. You’ve always been polite to me—which is more than I can say for anyone else on the staff. In fact, working with you has almost made my time at St. Oswald’s seem worthwhile.

I’ll be at the canal bridge at 9:00. Be there if you want to know more. But do remember what Sophocles said: “What a terrible thing is wisdom, when it brings no profit to the wise.” If, on reflection, you’d rather not know, I’ll completely understand.

Sincerely,

B. B. Winter

I looked at Devine. “What time is it?”

He checked his watch. “It’s ten to nine. But you’re not really planning to go, are you? And on the basis of what, exactly? A note on the back of an envelope, in the middle of the night?”

“Hardly the middle of the night,” I protested.

Dr. Devine just looked at me.

“It’s complicated,” I told him.

Once more Devine just looked at me. I recognized an ancient St. Oswald’s Master’s technique I often used with the Lower School.

“And personal,” I added, with a hint of censure.

Devine gave an expressive sniff. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” he said. “How can you possibly think I don’t know how you’ve been spending the past few weeks? I mean, you’re hardly subtle. First that ridiculous garden gnome, and then all the hints about Harry Clarke, not to mention the Honours Boards, and creeping around after the Head. What did you think you were doing, eh? You might as well have been carrying a sign saying REBELLION IN PROGRESS.”

I said: “Bob Strange has cameras hidden all over the School, you know.”

“Of course I know,” said Dr. Devine. “I’m Health and Safety Officer.”

For a moment I was robbed of speech. “You knew?” I said.

He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I saw Jimmy checking the cables,” he said. “Of course I asked Bob about it.” He gave another sniff, and I sensed that he was torn between his loyalty to the management and his personal sense of propriety.