" - So if we move two of the older girls into Le Petit Chalet, we can squeeze the new girls into the Blue dormitory," finished Miss Wilson.
"Battleship Grey dormitory," little Miss Nalder corrected, glancing up from her vodka and coke, "Hansi got a bit carried away with the undercoating during half-term."
"Hansi?" repeated Mademoiselle Lepattre, who was spelling her name as one word this year, "but where, then, is Eigen?"
"Fuck knows," said Miss Maynard with a shrug, "Madame has probably hived him off to work for her at Die Rosen, like she does with every other peasant employed by the school at some point."
"Tiens!" exclaimed Mademoiselle, throwing up her hands in horror. Bill and Miss Annersley exchanged speaking glances before the former spoke up.
"Now then Elise, you're not in a Malory Towers book. You might be the most ineffectual, indecisive headmistress ever to run a boarding school, but there's no need to go overboard on the French stereotypes."
What Mademoiselle may have replied to this rebuke will be forever unknown, as a commotion outside interrupted the meeting of the staff. As one, that august body rose up and sallied forth to investigate.
"Oh, those imps of Middles," sighed Maynie, as it was her turn to fulfil this contractual obligation this time. They were brought up short, however, by the unexpected sight of Matron struggling between two burly constables.
"Matey!" exclaimed Miss Annersley. Turning clear grey eyes which never needed glasses onto the detective directing this sorry scene, she drew herself up to her full height. "Whatever is the meaning of this, officer?"
"I'm afraid your Matron is under arrest," he said curtly. "She's been under surveillance for some time. We were alerted by the usual pattern - "
"Usual pattern?" echoed Bill.
"Oh yes. This isn't her first offence. She did this in three schools in England. She evaded arrest by fleeing to Austria, but Interpol has been on her case for a while now. It's definitely her, the same MO - the addiction to administering sleeping draughts, the refusal to use perfectly good painkillers in favour of old wives' remedies, the insistence on pulling girls out of lessons on suspicion of them coming down with ailments. Classic Munchhausens by Proxy." He nodded to the constables. "Take her away, chaps."
"Heavens!" ejaculated Mademoiselle. "I cannot think. What will pauvre Madge say?"
"Madge Russell?" asked the detective. "Married to Dr Jem Russell of the Sanatorium?" Mademoiselle nodded. "She'll have her own problems, once we've had a little chat with her husband in custody. Who do you think was supplying Matron with the drugs?"