Lindsay hurried on down the hall, aware that eyes were following her. She pushed through the swathes of velvet that curtained the door into the music department. Uncertain, she listened carefully and heard a number of voices coming from the corridor where she had seen Lorna quarreling with the unknown man earlier. She turned into the corridor and was faced with a door saying “Music Storeroom.” The passage turned left, then right, so she followed it round and found Pamela Overton and another mistress standing by a door marked “Music 2.” Beyond them was a flight of stairs.

Even in this crisis, Pamela Overton was as collected as before. “Ah, Miss Gordon,” she said quietly. “I am afraid I have to ask another favor of you. I was not entirely truthful when I said there had been an accident. It looks as if Lorna has been attacked and killed. I don’t quite know how the press operates in these matters, but it seemed to me that, as you are already with us, it might be simpler for us to channel all press dealings through you. In that way we might minimize the upheaval. Does that seem possible?”

Lindsay nodded, momentarily dumbstruck by the woman’s poise. But her professional instinct took over almost immediately and she glanced at her watch. “I’ll have to get a move on if I’m going to do anything tonight,” she muttered. “Can I see . . . where it happened?”

Miss Overton thought for a moment, then nodded. She walked to the door and, with a handkerchief round her fingers, delicately opened it, saying, “I fear I may be too late in precautions like this, since others have already opened the door. By the way, it was locked from the inside. The key was on the table by the blackboard. There was some delay while Miss Macdonald searched for the spare key.”