by Charlot King
“This is our special meeting place. We had our first kiss here. I was walking towards the library for our first date. We were supposed to meet at the ice cream parlour further up for a walk along The Backs, only I was running late and he’d already left the library and was a little early. Too excited to see me, he said. So we met here by accident. Edward always said it was the best view of The Backs, as you couldn’t see the eyesore as you were standing on it. Maybe if we’d met at the ice cream parlour he wouldn’t be dead? He wouldn’t have liked me. Seen I’m fussy about ice-cream, or something.”
Jonathan interrupts and rubs her back, pulling her into him.
“I was worried sick about you. You’ll put me into an early grave. Let’s go and have a stiff drink? Numb this pain.”
But Rebecca isn’t listening.
“He was murdered here, the police told me. Someone pushed him off this bridge.”
Jonathan feels nervous of what Rebecca will say next, as this is a very busy spot and people are passing continuously, stopping to take photographs with those selfie sticks he hates so much. He puts his arm around Rebecca’s shoulders.
“Hey, come on now, how do you know that?”
Rebecca stops dead and looks at her brother straight in the eye.
“Didn’t you know? They found some of his shirt on these railings.”
“That’s not something you should dwell on now, is it? Leave all that to the police. We need to think about looking after Rebecca. When was the last time you ate? We could go and get a nice pasta somewhere.”
But Rebecca is undeterred.
“And a necklace, just like mine.”
“A necklace? What do you mean a necklace? What necklace?”
Jonathan is uneasy, where is this going? Rebecca takes out her necklace, a red and black beaded necklace. It looks identical to Susan’s, identical to the one found by Elizabeth on the grass of her garden, the same one that was being kept at the police station as evidence. Rebecca holds up her necklace in front of Jonathan, perhaps a little too close to his face. This makes him frown and lean back from the swaying beads. Only half the number of beads are left on the necklace, as there is much string showing underneath.
“He gave this to me the morning he died. Then when the police asked if I had lost any jewellery in the break-in, I forgot to tell them about this.”
“Oh.”
“They told me they found a necklace by Edward, with red beads. Asked me if it was mine. Showed me it in a bag at the station. I wasn’t registering. I’d just seen Edward’s body. It didn’t occur to me. He’d only given me this the morning he came back, and I didn’t really look at it properly. To be honest, I didn’t like it. I left it on my dressing table and forgot all about it. He was always bringing me back rubbish presents from his travels. Most of them went in the bin.”
“How come you’ve still got it? Haven’t you told the police yet?” Rebecca says nothing, so Jonathan continues with his questions, “If they found one by his body, does that mean there are two identical necklaces? What’s that got to do with his death? It must be a coincidence, surely?”
Rebecca isn’t listening to her brother. She wants to tell him what is on her mind, instead.
“It took a while but I remembered I had something with red and black beads. Then I remembered this tacky little present afterwards. Later, when I looked for it on my dresser and in all my jewellery boxes, even the locked ones with my real jewellery, it wasn’t there. It was missing. I looked everywhere and it was gone. But I just looked again today in college, and it was back, after the burglary. And it looks a little tattier, wouldn’t you say? Look at all the missing beads.”
Jonathan holds up his eye to the necklace and touches them.
“Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to look.”
“No, it was definitely all beads when he gave it to me. I haven’t told the police yet. Do you think I should tell them I found it? I mean, if they have another one, that’s probably important?”
Jonathan looks worried by the necklace.
“Maybe you missed it when looking the first time. Maybe it has been there all the time?”
“You can’t miss this. It is so loud and garish. I looked in all the drawers. Everywhere. But it came back. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Would you like me to look after it?”
Jonathan reaches for the necklace.
“No, why would I like that?”
“Oh for goodness’ sake, Rebecca, you’re exasperating. I don’t know. I’m trying to be a good brother. What do you want? I’ve come to find you, to check you’re okay. You start on about necklaces. And you don’t want my help!”
40. A Warning
Inspector Abley sits on the Dean’s sofa. The large window in the Professor’s rooms open to The Backs, wafting in echoes of the day that reverberate gently below.
“Sherry, Inspector?”
“No thank you, Dean. I am more of a beer man myself. I’m looking forward to a nice cold one with supper. Mrs Abley is cooking my favourite tonight - star-gazey pie. Herring, cod, bass all melting into the buttery mash potato and pastry crust. It does things to me. My wife sure knows how to cook.”
“That does indeed sound rather good.” The Dean doesn’t want to hear Abley talk of domestic bliss. It makes him homesick.
The Inspector stretches out his arms on the sofa, happy with his game this afternoon, though he didn’t win the cup.
“Thought I’d make a detour here on my way home you see, when I got the call, rather than let it wait until morning. My Sergeant said it sounded urgent? I was off duty, but.”
The Inspector tries to cover for the fact that he’s now in his golfing shorts and shirt and has a tan line across his forehead and looks a little sweaty.
“Thank you. It’s quite delicate a matter. It involves someone close to you, of whom I’m also quite fond. Different colleges and all the rest of it.”
Professor Flint pauses, not sure where to begin. Abley can sense this and tries to put the Dean at ease.
“I’m not shy, just hit the ball and see where it lands.”
Inspector Abley frowns, more to himself, as he can see that the Professor seems to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, and looks particularly tired. What can be so important?
“It’s just, I’ve, well, had a complaint made against Professor Green in college business, Inspector. Apparently, she’s been,” The Dean searches for the right word, “interfering with an alumni of our college, Dr Eruna’s private matters. And she has been walking through our college quite a bit, disturbing Rebecca Wiley.”
Abley can’t believe what he’s hearing from the Dean.
“I thought Mrs Wiley had moved out to live with her brother, Dean?”
Professor Flint picks up an apple and fiddles with it, pulling off the stork.
“Quite so. The other day I believe. But one has to ask oneself, what is Professor Green doing here?”
Abley is concerned where this conversation is going. He adjusts his shorts a little and coughs.
“What has this to do with me? And she’s a Don at this university, is she not? Giving her access for ‘walking through’, as you put it, any college.”
Professor Flint looks edgy, perspiring. Abley tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. He notices beads of sweat clinging to Flint’s cheeks.
“Well, yes. But, well, Dr Eruna said she has been bothering him at his offices, and didn’t have an appointment. Just barged up to see him apparently. He is up at the Science Park, not a public right of way, is it.”
The Inspector is less than happy with the progression of this conversation and chooses to stand up and walk nearer to the door.
“I’m sorry Professor Flint, but I can’t for the life of me work out why you’re telling me this? If Dr Eruna has a problem, why doesn’t he just
go to the station? This is a serious allegation, you know. You can’t call me over here just to do the dirty on someone you say you like but don’t appear to show much respect for. Have you actually spoken to Professor Green?”
Flint was not expecting this. He has known the Inspector for some years now. He knows private words happen all the time. Why is he being so difficult? Abley watches as Flint’s eyes narrow.
“No. I don’t have anything against the woman per se, and it may not come as any surprise but Professor Green doesn’t actually listen to me, Inspector. I thought she’d listen to you.”
Inspector Abley smiles inside. She doesn’t listen to him either. But this is more serious than that. The Dean is accusing Elizabeth of something.
“I fail to see how this is college business at all? And Dean, I would be careful before you accuse someone of harassment, whether on behalf of someone else or not.”
Professor Flint walks towards the Inspector and leans close to him.
“All right, cards on the table. Dr Eruna told me he was trying to avoid having to make an official complaint at the police station. He found paint splattered all over his car after the Professor had gone to visit him. Bright red paint. Apparently it is quite an expensive model though I know nothing about cars, and he said she was scoffing about it, gloating. And I wondered if, well, you could talk to her about it. He knows that you know her very well, and thought a quiet word might do the trick.”
Abley is definitely going to get this whole thing checked out. Tomorrow. Flint has irritated him though, and he feels a sudden urge to protect Elizabeth.
“Right, right. Well. Was that it? Accusing Professor Green of criminal damage?”
“Yes, er. Sorry. I know it is very delicate.”
Abley is angry, though he tries to remain measured in speech.
“I shall have to write a report.”
This makes the Dean panic. It has all gotten out of control. He thinks of the wretched paper he still has to write for Dr Eruna. Will the favours never stop?
“No, please no. Just a quiet word.”
“I always find that a quiet word often does the trick too. I would, if I may, return the favour, to you, sir.” Inspector Abley leans into Percival Flint’s face. “Professor Green is, as you say, a friend of mine. But she’s also an associate working on a murder case. She has just told me that she did, indeed, pay Dr Eruna a visit. Just prior to this occasion she was hit over the head by someone.”
Professor Flint clearly had no idea, not having listened to the news, and can’t hide his shock.
“Is she okay?”
Inspector Abley has had enough and opens the door, looking back around it.
“I’m not sure if you are aware of this, but despite knowing she had had a nasty blow, Dr Eruna still made threatening remarks to Professor Green this afternoon. Professor Flint, upon my word, I would seriously consider your motives reporting her to me. I shall certainly be investigating Dr Eruna’s conduct. I wish you a good evening.”
The Inspector leaves and his words hang heavy in Percival Flint’s ears. He realises he is in too deep. Outside in the college court, the Inspector puts a call into the station.
“Is that Lemon? Lemon, can you have a dig to see what you can find on a Dr Eruna? Yes. Dr Michael Eruna of Labzuu. Yes, the company. And let me know as well, any connections between him and the Dean of King’s College. Yes, you heard right. This one may go all the way to the top, son. So be careful who you speak to. Discretion please.”
41. Africa is Where it Started
Emily is rather tired and not too sure about this wild goose chase. She has bowed again to her friend’s dogged determination and found herself at the University library on the West Road. Recognised by its ‘dark tower’ and infamous and inaccurate myths of housing all the pornography in the country, it contains over seven million titles, acquiring almost every book published in the UK, irrespective of its academic level or intended readership. While Elizabeth nestles down at a desk poised with a reading lamp for her return, Emily walks with the librarian, who takes down a tome titled ‘Families in Africa in 20th Century Power’. Emily blows out air at the sight of the size, before watching the librarian disappear off, light as a feather to the stairs, leaving her with this brick to carry back.
“What took you so long?”
Emily drops the book on the desk, causing it to reverberate, and ignores Elizabeth’s impatience, instead dutifully reminding her friend of their promise.
“Afterwards, we go to the hospital.”
“Shhh.”
Elizabeth points to the sign to keep quiet, as she opens the book Emily has fetched. Emily plonks herself down next to Elizabeth and whispers.
“What are we looking for?”
Elizabeth whispers back.
“Gerald always used to say Africa was where it all started.”
“What started?”
“Everything. Look to plains and the huge skies as they hold the secrets of the stars.”
Unsure what Elizabeth is talking about, Emily feigns interest. Elizabeth is so absorbed in the book, peering at the families and faces of those making their billions from steel, diamonds, and tantalum for electronic gadgets and mobiles. Emily meanwhile studies her friend’s face. There is a depressing transparency to her obsessiveness that Emily has seen before, which makes the veins in her neck stick out and her eyes look ghost like. Emily worries that Elizabeth clearly hasn’t had much sustenance apart from one or two chips, as she can hear her tummy rumbling. What is keeping her going, what is driving her like this? She just doesn’t understand it, and is more than concerned. She must get her to hospital.
“How long do you think we’ll be here, Elizabeth? Should I ring home again to tell Cuthbert I’ll be a while, as we’ll be off to the hospital after this too.”
“Good idea. I also want to see if they have anything on preventing greenhouse thefts.”
✧
What Percival Flint failed to tell the Inspector just an hour before is that Dr Eruna is his guest at high table at dinner this evening, and this is making him more than a little uncomfortable with proceedings. The Fellows anteroom is filling up, with its wall-to-wall wood panelled with chandeliers and paintings of cherubs and horses. Formal hall is always popular with Fellows, who often prefer the company of colleagues to their wives, and the opportunity to over-eat and drink, whilst telling tales of hapless undergraduates who don’t know their Sao Paulo from their Sacramento, while how funny it is how the smart ones can recount complex algebra and string theory but don’t know how to boil an egg.
At one end of the hall a number of Fellows congregate around a couple of crystal decanters of sherry on a long oak side table. With the Inspector’s words still ringing in his ears, the Dean listens to college Fellows congratulating him on raising so much money, with a gift from Labzuu, bringing new investment possibilities. Now categorically out in the open, Dr Eruna has seen to that, ensnaring the Dean before he lay all his cards on the table. New levels of deception are making Flint feel more than a little queasy, whereas Dr Eruna, on the other hand, bang in the middle of the room is relishing this opportunity to embellish anecdotes about their special relationship to anyone who will listen.
“When I met Professor Flint, I knew that we were going to forge a lasting friendship, as he is such an inspiring and generous man. But little could I have dreamt that out of that friendship Labzuu would have been given the honour to contribute - albeit in a humble way - to the college’s future.” A few ‘marvellous’ and ‘wonderfuls’ from the Fellows as Dr Eruna continues. “For it is by working together on such ground-breaking research with the Dean, and I know we have a partnership which is first rate, one which will make history in Cambridge, not just for the Science Park, but in the very bones of learning, that these new drugs will be closer to the market and able to save lives in the future.”
“Do go ahead without me. I’ll follow along shortly. I just need to attend to something.”
That something involves a trip to the gentleman’s room, and it feels like strong bile wanting to escape from both orifices all too soon for his legs to carry him. He never makes it back to the dinner, choosing to check into the Garden House Hotel for some privacy instead.
42. Poisonous
Inspector Abley walks into the Growth Facility at the Department of Plant Sciences on Downing Street and finds Elizabeth at the microscope.
“Good morning, heard you were here. Emily told me you wouldn’t be taken to the hospital last night. How’s your head?”
The Inspector is munching on an almond filled croissant and holding a steaming coffee for his breakfast.
Elizabeth looks up at him excitedly, she has discovered something.
“Susan was poisoned, with an oenanthotoxin. This is an unsaturated aliphatic compound, similar to cicutoxin. So that’s a double murder confirmed.”
“Why didn’t Leedham spot that?”
“This particular plant is not European and the traces don’t have to be very high. You’d need to know what you’re looking for. I’m taking samples to him so he can examine them, for a second opinion. But I’m as sure as I’ll ever be.”
