*
It didn’t takelong before Nate and Bridget were seated inside the headmaster’s office. Headmaster Egan, who’d stood to greet them upon their arrival, was a tall, wiry man, with a neck and legs as long as those of an ostrich. He had a bird-like face, too, with a beakish nose that supported a pair of round spectacles. Nate could imagine the towering stick figure looking down admonishingly upon his pupils, most likely with a cane in his hand. That’s how most of the headmasters operated, in his experience. He shivered at the memory. The slice of the cane biting into his flesh had never stopped him from doing as he pleased, and it had pleased him to get into a lot of mischief, much to his father’s and his brother’s disdain.
“How may I help you?” Headmaster Egan asked as he reclaimed his seat.
Nate scanned the walls behind the headmaster’s desk, eyeing the portraits of his predecessors. “How long have you been headmaster here?” he asked.
“Seventeen years.” The headmaster straightened his back, indicating his pride in that fact.
“Excellent,” Nate said. “The school is preeminent among public schools in England. I’m sure that’s largely down to you.”A little flattery never hurt a headmaster.
“Well, I cannot take too much credit. After all, the school has beenopen for centuries.”
“Of course.” Nate smiled.
“Do you have a son you are interested in enrolling, perhaps?” Headmaster Egan glanced at Bridget, and his brow creased slightly as if he were confused by her presence. A boy’s education was his father’s business, after all.
“No,” Nate said and then added, “not yet.” He smiled. “We are here to inquire about one of your former pupils.”
“Oh?” The headmaster lifted his brows.
“We need some information and hoped you’d be able to enlighten us,” Nate said. “It would be several years ago now that he attended.”
Headmaster Egan folded his long fingers together. “We do keep records on all our students—not too detailed, but with the dates they attended and other such facts.”
“Well, I’m hoping you’ll remember a lot more than simple dates. I am sure you pride yourself on knowing every young man who passes through your school.”
“Indeed, I do. But what type of information are you after? I shouldn’t be comfortable divulging information of a private or sensitive nature to those who are not family.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you family?”
“Not family,” Nate said. “But this is a matter of life or death.”
Mr. Egan blinked rapidly behind his gold-rimmed spectacles. “Life or death, you say?”
“I do, but I cannot divulge more than that.”
The headmaster frowned, drawing his feathery brows together. “I must say this is a little unusual. What is the name of the young man you wish to inquire about?”
“His surname is Collins.” Nate paused, uncertain of Collins’s first name.
“Mr. Douglas Collins,” Bridget added. Nate had to admire her. Shewouldknow his first name, focused on people as she always was. “He istoday approximately seven-and-twenty years of age.”
Headmaster Egan narrowed his eyes. “Do you know, that name sounds familiar? But it’s not because he was a pupil at our school. No, I don’t recall a Collins here.”
Nate frowned. “But you must have so many pupils; how can you know for certain? He would have attended ten years or more ago. Perhaps check your records.”
The headmaster gave Nate a tight smile. “I remember all of our boys. Most of them come from aristocratic families, so I am not likely to forget a name.”
“But you do remember something, correct? After all, you just said the name sounds familiar to you.”
“Indeed, I do. May I suggest you visit a school called St. Joseph’s in Harrogate?”
“Why?” Nate asked.
“There was some sort of a scandal a few years ago at St. Joseph’s—about four years ago, if my memory serves me correctly, and I believe the name Collins was attached to it.”
“What kind of scandal?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say. I don’t know all the facts, and I have a strict policy against gossip. It would be a waste of your time to learn about half-truths, and as you said, yours was a case of life or death; I’d hate to mislead your inquiry in any way.”
