Death of the Toad Read online

"Would you come with me to the memorial service?" asked Janet. Kay made an attempt to demur, but acceded in the end.

  “I suppose I'm as curious as you are to hear if someone can come up with a complimentary elegy for the man!”

  In the event they were both quite disappointed. The chaplain had intoned most of the expected cliches about the Principal’s dedication to the great institution. Mr. Jackson Nicholas had documented the events of his academic and administrative career, and the Dean had made personal observations about the sacrifices made by the family as a debt owed to them by the university and its members.

  "In spite of which I am sure that the Pinkney’s will get a month’s notice to clear out of Toad Hall,” remarked Professor Antwhistle in a loud stage whisper. "Come Mrs. McKay and Janet," he continued from the row behind them as the last strains of the organ faded away. "let us partake of the funeral baked meats (coldly furnished forth from the convocation feast, no doubt)."

  The threesome strolled across the lawn between Convocation

  Hall, and the Faculty Lounge.

  "Has there been any more word on the cause of death?" Janet

  enquired.

  “Yes,” replied the Professor. It seems that our Principal took a late-night dip after the convocation festivities, suffered a heart seizure and floated about all night in the pool.”

  “And he wasn’t missed until morning!" exclaimed Kay in disbelief.

  "Why, where was Mrs. Pinkney?"

  "In her bed so I believe. It was not unusual for him to swim at odd hours; and they occupied separate sleeping quarters, she upstairs, he in the ground-floor study where he also worked at odd hours and slept little, according to my “reliable source”. In any case he was not actually missed. He was found in the pool next morning by one of the help.”

  They entered the lounge and went as quickly as manners would allow to the food table. Faculty had a reputation for polishing off the goodies with rapier-speed at such free feeds, which occurred only infrequently in the academic calendar.

  "One blessing our late Principal has bestowed is a reprise of the Convocation Tea," observed the Professor as he made a foray into the shrimp and other exotic items on the platter. "If we could only persuade the Dean to co-operate in kind next month it would see us through the summer. However," he continued while attacking an enormous shrimp, "the Dean must now be nurturing hopes about his chances to succeed to the Principality, (if it is not too indecent to discuss the succession at the funeral celebration)."

  "Wasn't there a committee of some sort to discuss reappointment of the Principal at the end of his term next year?" asked Janet. "I seem to recall faculty criticism about the composition of the committee.”

  "Quite so. It was a group of non-academics as you might expect; retired politicians, life insurance executives and representatives of the corporate mercantile class. Our Dean sat until quite recently as the sole voice for the Faculty, though rumour has it that he has resigned from the appointment committee. Now that," concluded the Professor, "may signify that he disagreed with a decision to reappoint the incumbent, or that he had been persuaded to consider himself as a contender for the job. In order to throw one's hat in the ring in this game of selections the trick is for the vying committee member to withdraw from the selection process, but only at the last minute when the candidacy of all others has been vitiated. I would assume that the committee was close to decision time."

  "Well," ventured Kay, "from my unbiased viewpoint your Dean might be a good replacement. His remarks this afternoon bore a human touch and I sensed a feeling of loyalty and respect toward him"

  "Truly spoken," replied: the Professor. "Roger Owens has maintained the academic credibility of this place and in the face of some horrendous :pressures. As you sense it, most of the faculty would probably rally round him for that reason, and because it was generally perceived that he abhorred Toad.

  The Principal’s family were standing a short distance away, Mrs. Pinkney and Joyce talking with Dean and Mrs. Owens. Jeremy was off by himself gazing over the terrace toward the river. Janet excused herself from the Professor and Kay, walked over and touched him gently on the arm. His expression reflected a mixture of agitation and impatience.

  "Bearing up all right?" asked Janet.

  "Oh sure. Look, let's get out of here for a minute," and he led Janet onto the terrace away from the crowd of mourners. He fidgeted a moment or two with his unaccustomed necktie.

  “I just don’t know what to do,” he blurted.

  "Do about what?"

  "About mother" Jerry choked on the words. "She believes that my father was murdered."

  Following several attempts to calm him down Janet managed

  to obtain a semi-coherent account from Jeremy about his mother's

  suspicions. The Principal had apparently experienced unaccountable blackouts on other occasions, and had shown signs of erratic and irrational behaviour apart from the convocation events. It was though he were intoxicated, but he had been more intensely and violently ill than would be expected simply from drinking alcohol.

  "So your mother suspects he was being deliberately poisoned.”

  "Yes. And the combination with stress and drinking weakened his heart. She is convinced that until a month or two ago he was in good health."

  “Surely these suspicions will be confirmed or otherwise at autopsy, if they haven’t been already,” responded Janet. "Was your father a heavy drinker?"

  "I guess he was. Rather more in the past year or so. A binge drinker. It never interfered with his work or showed in public. Usually a Friday or Saturday, so he had Sunday to sleep it off. He had a few bouts of so-called intestinal flu to explain his 24 hour absences."

  "But recently his drinking produced more serious effects?"

  "According to Mother. You have to remember that I had moved out so I am simply going by her description. 'Violent reactions' was her term for it.

  "Had she discussed any of this with the doctor?" (or the police) Janet was going to add, but thought better of it.

  "No. I guess she just started to think about it. But she seems to have convinced herself without any tangible evidence."

  Jeremy was returning to his original agitated state, almost choking as he spoke. Janet attempted to reassure him, fearful that his wild words might carry back to the throng of mourners.

  "I'm sure there is no evidence either. No doubt when she

  discusses her suspicions they'll find a simple case of natural

  causes."

  "No, no, no!" Jeremy shook his head vehemently. "She can't talk about this with anyone else!"

  "She will have to tell someone else surely. Why did she bring it up with you if she doesn't want to investigate it fully?"

  Jeremy swung his head away and answered with a hoarse agonized whisper, "Because she thinks I did it!"