by Charlot King
18. The Backs
The Backs this morning, like an impressionist painting all muted greens and yellows, are quiet and still. Curved bridges line up along the river, stretching across like shoe laces. Weeping willows trail their foliage in bottle green waters and rustle in a sheltered breeze. A moorhen glides almost invisible along the bank’s edge, bobbing for grasses, while a solitary student sits with his book bag and contemplates the exams to come, lost in thought and anxiety. Having unlocked the chain which holds all the punts together, Kara puts the keys to Trinity College boat house back on the hook. She’s returned from home, changed out of her dinner gown into a softer, summery green dress. She dumps her jacket on a chair, stuffs some dirty clothes of Jonathan’s into a bag and watches as he stretches his arms above his head, now dressed in fresh chinos, pink striped shirt and deck shoes. Kara places the picnic basket she brought for lunch down by the water’s edge. As they all stand on the slip it is evident they are the only souls on this stretch of river. Soon May Balls will replace exams and this spot will be packed with girls in glamorous dresses and boys in their best suits. Rebecca stares at the water gloomily, not having changed from this morning, her hair a little more dishevelled and her eyes puffy. The weather has brightened up, with more than enough blue sky to share and a temperature warming the day, Kara is ready to try to cheer Rebecca and take her mind off the horror that has just occurred. Her idea hasn’t worked on Jonathan, however, who’d rather be anywhere else, and is far from convinced about this hare-brained excursion.
“What possessed you?”
“We all need fresh air and sunshine in our lungs, Jonny. We’re like flowers, you can’t keep us cooped up inside or we’ll wilt and - .” Kara was going to say die but stops herself, and looks at Jonathan apologetically. He hugs her.
“My career is about to go stratospheric and I should be in London, my brother-in-law is dead in suspicious circumstances and I’m all over the papers. And you say let’s go punting.”
Kara sighs.
“I just want everyone to relax, find some peace and eat something. Then we can go back and Rebecca can sleep. We’ll be away from prying eyes here. It’s quiet, Tuesday. Her apartment will remind her of Edward if she stays cooped up there all day.” Kara looks over at Rebecca “Are you okay, darling?” Rebecca doesn’t acknowledge Kara’s voice, too far away in her own thoughts, almost oblivious to the fact she is now walking down inside a punt. She plonks herself in the middle seat, puts her head back and dips her fingers in the water under a weeping willow trailing down to kiss the water around her, the punt in danger itself of being eaten up by the dangling lime canopy. A swan glides out, startling Kara. He taps his beak, waiting to be fed and then spots the expensive looking wicker basket on the edge.
“Off you go.” Kara pathetically shoos the swan, who ignores her. Still on the slip, Jonathan’s phone starts to ring.
“Hello. What? I can’t talk now. No. Listen when I said I couldn’t talk I meant it. I don’t know. Just look into it. I told you Edward and I were in this together. I don’t know what he knew. What? All right, all right. Check it out today and get back to me.” Jonathan turns his back, so no one can hear the remainder of his conversation. Kara tries to strike up her own with Rebecca, while continuing to wave her arms at the increasingly inquisitive swan, who continues to ignore her like everybody else.
“Jonathan says you must come and stay with us at the house for a while, Rebecca.”
Rebecca is in a state of delirium.
“I’m staying in college. I must be near Edward. Everything’s here.”
“We’ll help you pack your things. You don’t have to leave anything behind.” Kara tries to calm Rebecca, but is also aware the swan has now lifted the picnic lid and is pecking about inside. Just as Kara wonders if she is going to have to wrestle a large bird while trying to console Rebecca, Jonathan finishes his call, steps onto the punt, simultaneously shooing the swan away by unwrapping a cucumber sandwich and throwing it ten feet away. The peckish swan glides off after another top snack and Kara looks lovingly for the first time today at her soon to be husband.
“I can’t live without Edward.” A distraught Rebecca pulls at Jonathan’s jacket as he settles into the next row of seats further away from the stern.
“Let’s see how good Kat is with a pole shall we?”
Kara secretly likes to punt, as she’s very good at it, but replies.
“Are you not doing it?”
“It was your idea, my dear. I think you should at least do the first stint, I haven’t slept.” He smiles at her and then leans across and affectionately rubs his sister’s leg.
Quietly to herself, “Neither have I.” Kara takes the pole at the end of the punt as Jonathan pulls at the willow leaves to nudge them in the right direction. Kara, having done this many times before, expertly pulls up the pole and places it carefully down into the water, hoping for things to return to normal and Jonathan to relax and be back to his loving self. The three of them glide off down the River Cam. Rebecca glaring at Kara as much as watching the scenery go by.
✧
Elizabeth, undeterred by her visit to the Parkside police station, has chosen to ignore the Inspector. If he doesn’t want her help then she’ll solve the case without him. She’s back at King’s College, and has already checked Rebecca Wiley’s rooms but no Rebecca, so has come back out onto the lawns by the river where she bumps into the Dean of King’s, Professor Percival Flint, who appears to be entertaining a rather cocky man, black hair and an expensive suit squeezed around his pudgy legs. The Dean greets Elizabeth.
“To what do we owe this pleasure? Thinking of defecting?”
Elizabeth is having none of it. “Hello Professor Flint, and what a preposterous idea.”
The Dean smiles. “Our rooms are very spacious you know, Professor Green.”
Elizabeth looks to her toes and frowns. “And a little draughty. I do like the Rubens on display, but Darwin suits me just fine thank you. I was just hoping to catch Edward Wiley’s widow. Do you happen to know her whereabouts?”
The Dean shakes his head. “Dreadful business, isn’t it. Carter said you were here earlier. You should have told me you were visiting again. Twice in the same day, I would have given you a Fellows’ prospectus. About time you joined a proper college.”
Elizabeth plays along with the Dean’s little game.
“I’ll inform the Master that you speak so highly of Darwin, shall I?”
“Just teasing. I’m fond of Darwin as well you know, less pretentious than some of our more competitive friends.” The Dean nods his head towards the direction of Trinity and St John’s.
“Where may I find Mrs Wiley?”
“What do you want her for now?”
Elizabeth is not going to reveal the information Professor Flint is hoping for.
“Oh, a private matter.”
The Dean knows he could ask that Elizabeth leaves Rebecca alone on the college turf, but he’s never won an argument with her yet, and really doesn’t have the stomach for a face off in present company.
“She went off with her brother. That lawyer chap turned politician. Nothing like Edward is he?”
“Dr Wiley was a scientist of whom we could all be proud.” Elizabeth replies.
The Dean’s guest finally pipes up.
“Ha! The Ed Wiley I knew didn’t know when to calm down or when to give up partying, and liked his recreational props too.” Dr Eruna sniffs and rubs his nose to indicate exactly the habit he was implying. “Was always last on getting through the gates at night. Gave the porters the right ol’ run around. Old habits die hard.” He holds out a hand, which Elizabeth refuses to take, instead just smiling with her mouth not her eyes. Dr Eruna is not deterred. “Michael Eruna. I was at college at the same time as Ed. Though I didn’t actually study here at Kings, but we were both in Plant Sciences. He went on
e way, I went another.”
The Dean feels it is best he introduced with more detail.
“Dr Eruna has interests at the Science Park, Labzuu. You may have heard about some of their innovative medical treatments using genetic modification?”
Elizabeth is unimpressed. She has little trust of those who try to genetically engineer everything to achieve a quick fix. Nature will find a way in the end, it can’t be controlled. And there is definitely something of The Day of the Triffids about this man. She gives him something to think about.
“Dr Eruna, you may like to know that the police are looking into the cause of death of Dr Wiley. It was quite probably murder and they are interviewing everyone who knew him. So they might be interested to know that you were his peer at university and that you hold such differing views to most who knew him. Suggesting he was some sort of drug addicted, beer swilling hedonist.”
“Hey. I didn’t mean anything. He may have been a bit of a party boy in his youth, but I can’t think of a man less likely to have enemies.”
The Dean, shocked by the news, quizzes Elizabeth further.
“Are you saying the police think it’s murder? We can’t afford for all this unfortunate business to affect the college.”
Elizabeth didn’t mean to alarm the Dean, whom she knows is not good with stressful situations and worries more than he should. She often wonders why he took the role of Dean in the first place, possessing such qualities.
“Don’t worry. Nothing could tarnish this wonderful establishment.” Elizabeth gives him a wry smile, but it doesn’t allay the Professor’s new found anxiety.
“Quite, quite, of course. But we can’t have a scandal. I do believe I saw her and her brother and a nice young lady heading towards the punt house come to think of it. Trinity’s, yes. Perhaps you will find them nearby?”
“Right you are. Thank you Dean.”
Elizabeth turns on her heel towards the grounds exit by Clare College and onto Trinity punts. Before out of earshot Percival Flint calls to her.
“Can we enjoy your company at dinner any time soon, or perhaps evensong?”
Elizabeth spreads open her arms.
“You know your cook doesn’t like my requests, Dean? And being an atheist doesn’t really sit well with choral appreciation now, does it.”
Elizabeth leaves, crunching her way across the gravel. The Dean and Dr Eruna walk back up through the college grounds and approach the porter’s lodge doorway, as Carter talks to a junior porter about an undergraduate using his window ledge as a refrigerator.
“Milk, four cans of bitter, and a kipper, sir.”
“Just tell the lad that if we find this hanging outside his rooms again then we will have to find something else to hang outside there in its place.”
Dr Eruna stands with the Dean in the lodge doorway, reminding him of an earlier conversation.
“Don’t chicken out now Percilicious. You are my cherry on the top.”
The Dean halts in the door, blocking Dr Eruna’s entry and hisses.
“If you think I’m going to lose this chance for the college you’ve misjudged me. But I don’t have to like it. You lied.”
Dr Eruna steps back out onto the path, with no desire to make this a long conversation either.
“A cool two million on submission, and double on publication of our joint research findings.” He winks at Professor Flint. “Just make it clear that Labzuu are the best company in the world, and there will be rewards for the college a plenty.”
A young undergraduate has come to pick up his room keys and has to squeeze past the Dean.
“Morning sir.”
Percival Flint can’t remember the name of the lad.
“Morning.”
Dr Eruna has had enough. He has to get back to the office.
“Just finish it, and I’ll say as many thank you ‘sirs’ as you like.” Dr Eruna walks towards the gate out to King’s Parade. Jokingly he throws a last line to Flint.
“And keep that nosey bird away, right? As much as accused me of stirring over Edward. Who does she think she is? Silly old crow.”
Dr Eruna walks off and immediately Professor Flint knows he was right about Dr Eruna. Anyone who thinks Elizabeth is a silly old crow is on the wrong side of right. She’s the most intelligent woman he knows. Difficult. But don’t they come together? Professor Flint is so repelled by the impression of Dr Eruna that he can’t help himself from stepping back into the lodge and physically shuddering. Carter notices the Dean’s anxious demeanour.
“A friend of yours, sir?”
“Carter. Any friend of the college is a friend of mine. Some I hold dear to my heart. Some I should only shake hands with from the safe vantage point of separate continent wearing radioactive protective clothing.”
“Quite so, sir.”
“Please. I don’t want to be disturbed this afternoon. I have rather a lot of work.”
Carter nods and watches Professor Flint walk away. There is something about his step that makes Carter mildly concerned. He’s never seen the Dean so preoccupied and clearly distressed. Much changed from earlier this morning. Carter draws his eyes into a squint and thinks. Then decides that perhaps it is just down to this business with Edward Wiley. Carter has himself been busier than ever keeping the press out of college grounds, and has already shut the doors to the public, as he’d caught a couple of journalists pretending to visit the Chapel, and sneaking back to rummage through Edward’s rooms. Why all the fuss? Was there something more to it? One reporter said as much, mentioning there were far too many frogmen on the river for it to be accidental. The paper printed ‘suspicious’, yet the police are yet to confirm. Yes, that would be why the Dean looked so pale, Carter had no doubt. After all, there hasn’t been a murder associated with the college since that law student murdered his father and buried him in the garden.
19. There is No Escape
Susan slams the front door and looks up at her home, nestled in this piece of Chesterton along the river, far out from the city. She steps back and picks up her bag, while a taxi, churning out exhaust, has crept up to meet her. Susan peers in the front window.
“Station please.” The taxi then trundles away, taking its time to clock up more on the meter, as Susan sits in the back and ponders on plans made, and how things have dramatically changed. She is a survivor, there are many more chapters left in her life. But what does Cambridge have left to offer? An unhappy tenure with colleagues who don’t much like her work. She is always the outsider, left out in the cold when it comes to dinner party invites, the last to know college gossip and never asked for her opinion. Susan has grown old and more jaded with this esteemed city, which only has time for success and brilliance. She chides herself for falling for the stereotype of the English gentleman of high intellect. Edward once admitted he’d taken seven ‘A’ levels, not to brag, just to correct her when she once called him a dumb scientist who wouldn’t understand her poetry lectures, telling her that he did actually have an English degree, he’d done part time as a hobby while he was studying his post-doc in science. He’d also taken two PhDs, one in science, another in philosophy. Yes, there was no argument, Cambridge knew how to find the smartest. The city has not made her welcome, but perhaps she just tried to fit into a world where she didn’t belong. The taxi makes long work of wending its way out of Chesterton and onto the ring road, heading southwest towards the railway station where it catches the brow of the Elizabeth Way bridge and meets traffic. Susan glances at the river flow under the bridge and peers over to watch a few people walking their dogs on Midsummer Common, rowers practising for the May bumps and cyclists passing to and fro along the water’s edge, past the moored narrow boats and boat houses. Edward would have got a chill in the river she thinks, as it is early summer but the temperatures are still low. As they take the East Road towards the station Susan begins to notice over
weight shoppers waddling towards the Grafton Centre, no doubt the grubbier end of the city and a world apart from college high table. She feels an affinity with these strangers, less than perfect, but still human for Christ’s sake. And for all the high pomp and ceremony, Cambridge is not that far from the gutter after all. It has turned her sour and she knows she is leaving now for a reason. She thinks of Edward and wonders why he had been so cagey about his last trip to Africa? He’d said he would tell her eventually but the less she knew the better. What did that mean? She was cross at him for keeping secrets, for leaving her. And she deserved the right to know everything. He’d messed her about too many times. Well, no more. The taxi gets caught in traffic at the corner of Parker’s Piece. A crowd cheer at outdoor comedy performances by the glass walled swimming pool on the South edge of the Piece. A clown on stilts spills out into the road and fake falls onto the stationary taxi. The driver scowls and points at the paintwork on his bumper. The clown quickly apologises, rubbing the bonnet with his jacket and smiling, then notices Susan’s sullen face and pulls comedic faces in her window to try to cheer her up. Susan just frowns, so the clown shrugs and goes back to the adoring crowd. Susan has an idea. She gets out her mobile and rings Edward.
“Hello? Hello Edward. Did you tell her? I hope you told her but I’m sorry. I’m sorry it came to this. You shouldn’t have left me.” Susan’s taxi pulls away, suddenly a bank of lights are green and the taxi makes it to the corner and the Catholic church of Our Lady and the English Martyrs before coming to another grinding halt.
✧
Kara, Jonathan and Rebecca have punted a little way down the river past the Trinity Library and lawns of St John’s. Unfortunately Kara’s plans for privacy have backfired, the water now crowded with punts loaded with tourists coming from Sandymee’s at Magdalene Bridge. Rebecca has worked herself up into a frenzy, thinking about Susan and is shouting off vitriol.
