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Either Coombs had misunderstood Birdsley at some point during the changing of the guard, or he’d lied to them last night. Considering Birdsley had come around here yesterday and had mentioned nothing of an impending absence, Will was inclined to believe the latter. And if Coombs had lied about Birdsley, there had to be a reason.
He remembered the way Coombs had handled the incident at the school. Cool, detached, and efficient—Will could find no fault in his procedure. In spite of this, however, the disquiet he’d experienced while escorting the fellow returned.
Sir Gonson had, on more than one occasion, praised him for his keen instincts. Though somewhat clouded of late by sentiment, they were not to be ignored. Coombs wasn’t to be trusted.
One question loomed large in his mind: where was Birdsley? Going to his writing desk, Will snatched up a quill and drew out a fresh sheet of parchment. If the fellow was missing, someone at the local constabulary would know of it.
In addition to inquiring after Birdsley on behalf of the worried residents in Number 16, he also inquired of his temporary replacement, Coombs, requesting that the good gentleman pay another visit to the school to discuss his findings concerning last night’s reported incident, as well as to discuss the subsequent sighting of a suspicious person lingering on the street outside in the wee hours.
Sealing the missive, he packed a change of clothes into a satchel along with a few necessities. It wouldn’t do any harm to be prepared. On returning downstairs, he drew Mrs. Hayton aside and gave her the letter. “It is of vital importance that this be delivered at once,” he urged. “I have reason to suspect this Coombs fellow and want to confirm we have not been hoodwinked.”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded. “I shall have Mr. Bartleby take it immediately.”
“Make certain he puts it directly into Edward Deering’s hands and none other.”
“Yes, of course. Mr. Woodson, tell me the truth—is there any danger to the school?”
“I’m uncertain as yet. But fear not, Mrs. Hayton. I shan’t allow any harm to befall the school or its occupants.”
Tears welled in the woman’s eyes. “I knew you for a good man the moment I laid eyes on you.” Again, she wrung her hands. “Oh, I do hope this disagreeable business is settled quickly. My nerves simply cannot abide prolonged stress.”
He repressed a snort of disbelief. If such were indeed the case, then she was in the wrong business. Dealing with boarders was notoriously taxing. “I hope so, as well, madame.” Bidding her a good day, he let himself out.
As he walked back to the school, he kept his eyes open and paid close attention to his surroundings. All the while, he continued to ponder Mrs. Hayton’s words. The more he thought about it, the more suspicious of Coombs he became.
It was later than he’d have liked when Mrs. Sloane let him in, and he went straight to the kitchen to grab a bite before class began. Heads swiveled as he strode into the dining hall, and eyes followed his progress.
She asked them.
Jacqueline’s face was inscrutable, giving him no clue as to their response.
He sat down at the table with her and the other teachers. None save Jacqueline looked at him. His heart sank.
“Monsieur Woodson, I’ve ordered the office next door to Dr. Horton’s exam room prepared for your stay with us. It’s a small space, but it’s all I can offer.”
To say he was dumbfounded would’ve been an understatement. “They agreed?”
Nodding, she elaborated. “Though it will take some adjustment, we all feel it’s in our best interest to accept your kind offer. Needless to say, recent events have unsettled many among us, and the idea of your being here is a comforting one, especially for the students.”
He looked around and saw that every head was turned toward him, watching and listening to the adults’ conversation. “You’re certain?” he asked, looking into their anxious faces.
Nods, some vigorous and immediate, others more hesitant, answered the question.
Taking a deep breath, he returned their gesture with solemnity. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Quietly, he then addressed Jacqueline. “How much have you told them?”
“Everything concerning what was found in the courtyard last night, save the exact wording of the message. They already knew about our nighttime observer.” She inclined her head toward her fellow staff. “We have all agreed to watch in shifts throughout the night until this is resolved, as well as limit outings strictly according to necessity. When needed, designated staff will go in pairs, trios if possible, for safety.”
“Excellent. I’ll send to Mrs. Hayton and let her know I’ll be staying here tonight and coming for my things tomorrow. I informed her of the night’s events and assured her it was being addressed with all due haste. She urged me to convey to you her concern.”
Outside in the courtyard, the bell rang.
“Thank you,” said Jacqueline, rising. “I shall write to her today and add my reassurance in the hope of allaying her fears.” She looked down at his empty plate. “Remain and break your fast, monsieur. I can tell one of the older students to start your lesson.”
Grateful, he nodded acceptance just as Agnes came out bearing a tray. The woman’s eyes were bloodshot, and he knew she’d gone without sleep. “Thank you,” he murmured as she set a bowl of steaming porridge in front of him.
A weary smile lifted her plump cheeks as she poured tea. “After what you did for all of us last night, it’s my pleasure, sir.” She bustled off, humming under her breath.
