An hour into the interview even Romford realized they had reached a stalemate. Far from cracking, Dr. Windlesham was becoming even more unpleasant as the morning went on. Pooley wished she wouldn’t be so patronizing; Romford was going to be in a vile mood at having a subordinate listen to him being treated in this way.
‘I must insist, Dr. Windlesham, that you are in a very serious position; personal offensiveness will not assist you in your predicament.’
‘Inspector Romford, we have been over the same ground, by my reckoning, five times. There is nothing more to say.’
Romford was goaded by the condescension of her tone. ‘Can you give me any reason, ma’am, why I shouldn’t con clude that you murdered Dame Maud to keep her mouth shut?’
‘For the last time, Inspector—and this is the last time, for I have better ways of occupying my time even if you do not—we had an intellectual disagreement on a matter of college policy, we agreed to differ, Dame Maud intended to raise the matter for discussion among our colleagues, I con curred and the matter would have been settled amicably at the Council. I have every reason to believe that my colleagues would have taken my side, being unlikely to wish to see the college’s good name dragged in the mud over a minor error I made twenty years ago.’
‘It was not a minor error. You ruined her career.’
‘For the sixth time, Inspector, I did not ruin her career. For the sixth time, let me remind you that she is a successful barrister, earning probably ten times what you earn, and if it is true that I came between her and a Fellowship at St. Martha’s she should be on her knees every day thanking me. Now, I have no intention of wasting any more time on this absurdity.’ She rose up and picked up her book.
‘You can’t go yet.’
‘I can and I will. I am the Mistress here now and I have urgent work to do. It may escape you, Inspector, but I have a college to run and my predecessor to bury. If there is any further unwarranted persecution of me I will feel obliged to have a word with your chief constable. I wish you good morning.’
***
‘Well, she’s certainly unpleasant enough,’ said Pooley. ‘We knew that. She’s a complete cow.’
‘She’s not all cow,’ said the Bursar. ‘Close to it, I grant you, but she has a couple of good qualities—guts and cer tainly spleen. I always like a woman who can push the rozzers around. Romford at least must be developing a healthy respect for the inhabitants of St. Martha’s.’
‘I think he is. He referred to you collectively as “that monstrous regiment”.’
‘Dear old John Knox. What a splendid turn of phrase. I’d rather be loathed and despised than patronized. This’ll shake up Romford—do him good.’
‘That’s all very well, but he may have let a murderer off the hook.’
‘Maybe, maybe. My money’s still on the Dykes. And of course, Crowley isn’t out of it yet. I think old Deborah’s revelation that the Becker sex-pot made it big in the law alters the picture pretty substantially. Certainly she’s right that most of us would have voted against reopening the whole business. In fact, I would have probably been able to stop Maud doing anything about it, come to think of it; she usually listened to me.’
Pooley sank his chin on his right fist. ‘I feel very dispirited. We’re left with hardly a decent suspect now unless Romford can crack an alibi.’
‘Romford!’ said Amiss. ‘He couldn’t crack an egg if you gave him a hammer.’
‘Trust in the Lord, Ellis,’ said the Bursar. ‘Something’ll turn up.’
***
The new Number One suspect didn’t show at breakfast. It was 9:30 when Greasy Joan, sent to Dr. Windlesham’s bedroom to summon her, threw hysterics at the sight of her body, which had been stabbed several times with a sharp paper knife bearing the legend ‘Boston Red Sox’. The only clues yielded by the police search were a few wiry black hairs in her bed. By lunch-time, with the preliminary forensic report in, Romford was cock-a-hoop. ‘Now that we know she was full of sleeping pills, we know even someone as small as that black girl could have done the stabbing, so my instinct was right. Stands to reason, nice quiet backwater like this, it’s got to be a foreigner. She’s American. They don’t under stand anything except violence, especially the blacks. I’m only surprised she didn’t use a gun. Go and get her. We’ll give her a going over and then we’ll take her in.’
‘Sir, just before I do. Why? I mean, what motive?’
‘That lesbian takeover. She sees off Mistress Number One, so as to get that Holdness woman made Deputy, then she sees off Mistress Number Two. You’ll see, Holdness will step into her shoes any day now and they’ll get hold of all this money and use it to disseminate whatever filth they want. Plain as a pikestaff.’
‘I wouldn’t be certain, sir, that this lady necessarily sees eye to eye on everything with Dr. Holdness.’
‘Stuff and nonsense, Pooley. Which side do you expect black American lesbians to be on? Motherhood and apple pie?’
It was rare for Romford to make a joke. When he did he fully appreciated it. Pooley waited for the merriment to subside. ‘Sir, I’m just suggesting that we might go a little gently with her. The evidence is, er, a trifle circumstantial.’
‘Do what you’re told. Go and get her and warn the boys to be ready for the arrest.’
Pooley hovered. ‘The students are very edgy at the moment, sir. We need to be careful.’
‘Are you telling me my job, Sergeant?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Good.’
Pooley quit the room unhappily. His first port of call was the phone box in the hall from which he rang Superin tendent Hardiman; his mobile was switched off. His second was Amiss’s bedroom, which was empty. So too was the Bursar’s. Having told the DCs what to expect, he reluctantly commenced the search for Mary Lou, whom he found in the library.
Professionalism and inside knowledge fought within him as they walked to the interview room, exchanging desultory small talk. ‘Dr. Denslow,’ he said finally, ‘could I just warn you that Inspector Romford’s bark is worse than his bite?’
She eyed him curiously. ‘You mean he shouts a lot?’
‘I shall deny it if you quote me, but what I mean is that he sometimes jumps too readily to conclusions.’
She stopped and looked him full in the face. ‘Come on, call a spade a spade.’ She grinned broadly. ‘I’m not going to rat on you; I know you’re a friend of Robert’s. Are you trying to tell me Romford’s attempting to pin this on me?’
‘I can’t say any more. Just that if you are outraged by what Inspector Romford says or suggests or even does, don’t panic.’
Mary Lou smiled, ‘I don’t. But I’m very grateful for the tip-off.’
***
‘I must warn you that whatever you say may be taken down and used in evidence.’
Mary Lou looked at Romford in a relaxed fashion.
‘I’m from out of town, Inspector. What’s all that supposed to mean?’
‘It’s an official warning.’
‘Of what?’
‘That anything you say might be used against you.’
‘That’s a pretty vague explanation.’
Romford looked helpless.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Pooley. ‘It means simply, ma’am, that anything you say to us might be used in court, should you appear there.’
‘In the dock?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Well, that would be some interesting experience. Just what are you fingering me for?’
‘Murder,’ said Romford.
‘Why should I murder the Mistress?’
‘Ha!’ Romford looked triumphant. ‘How do you know she’s been murdered? The one that found her’s been taken off to the hospital and we didn’t tell anyone yet that it wasn’t natural causes.’
Mary Lou looked at him blankly. ‘Everyone knows she’s been murdered.’
‘They do not. This is a matter known only to the police.’
‘But it’s
been in the newspapers.’
Romford looked discomforted. ‘Oh, I see. You were referring to Dame Maud.’
‘Well, she was the Mistress, wasn’t she? What’s going on round here, Inspector?’
Romford cleared his throat and put on his impressive voice. ‘There is a measure of misunderstanding at this point in time, owing to the fact that Dr. Windlesham, the present Mistress, has been murdered too.’
‘What! This is getting Shakespearian—no one else could explain matricide on such a grand scale.’
‘What do you mean, matricide?’
‘The murder of your mother.’ Seeing Romford’s perplex ity, she added, ‘I mean that the Mistress is the mother of the college.’ Romford still looked blank. ‘Oh, never mind,’ said Mary Lou, ‘it was just a thought.’
Romford went on the attack. ‘I must ask you, Dr. Denslow, about the nature of your relationship with Dr. Windlesham.’
‘Relationship, Inspector? I’ve only been in the UK for about five minutes. I never even spoke to her except to say hi.’
‘Well then, how do you explain that she was murdered with your paper knife.’
‘Was she? I was looking for that only this morning. Someone must have nicked it.’
‘So you say, ma’am.’ With a flourish, Romford opened the envelope in front of him and took out some black hairs.
‘Do you recognize these?’
‘How am I supposed to recognize hair?’
‘But would it not be true to say, ma’am, that they resemble your own?’
‘I suppose so. They have an Afro look to them.’
‘You understand that we can do tests that will determine whether or not they are yours.’
‘By all means, Inspector. They may well be mine. Blacks aren’t exactly two a penny in this joint. Where did you find them?’
‘In Dr. Windlesham’s bed.’
‘Dr. Windlesham’s bed. Now there’s a surprise. And where was Dr. Windlesham?’
‘Stabbed to death in the same bed.’
‘So you’re rounding up all the niggers in the neighbour hood?’
Romford looked shocked.
‘It’s OK,’ said Mary Lou, ‘I’m allowed to be politically incorrect. It’s one of the perks of being from an oppressed minority. We can say what we like.’
Romford was in no mood for sociological observations. ‘Within this college, ma’am, I understand that there are only two students and one Fellow who are…’ He stopped, palpably embarrassed.
Amiss guessed he was struggling with an imperfect memory of what he had been taught in his last multicultural sensitivity course. Mary Lou looked at him with bright-eyed interest.
‘Of African descent,’ he suddenly came out with trium phantly. ‘And you’re the only one with the motive.’
‘Which is?’
‘There is very good evidence that there was a conspiracy to put a particular element in power in this college.’
‘And you think I’m part of it?’
‘I do, ma’am.’
‘After less than a week in the country, I’m so carried away I jump into bed with people and then murder them?’
‘I can only say that the circumstances look very suspicious.’
‘Anyone could have taken hairs from my trashcan when they were pinching the knife. This is crazy. You don’t murder people you don’t know.’
‘In America you people do it all the time, as far as I can see.’
‘Usually with guns, though. Maybe I should have used mine rather than messing about with paper knives.’
Pooley tried willing her to stop making jokes. They were not helping.
Romford was at his most censorious. ‘I hope you realize, ma’am, that we take the matter of unlicensed firearms very seriously in this country. Are you telling me you have imported such a weapon unlawfully?’
Mary Lou sighed. ‘Gimme a break, Inspector. I’m not an imbecile and I’ve never owned a gun. I don’t even recollect ever killing anyone.’
‘Where were you last night between the hours of midnight and 6:00 a.m.?’
‘In bed.’
‘Whose bed?’
‘My own.’
‘Alone?’
‘You haven’t seen my bed, Inspector. It’s only just about got room enough for me.’
‘So you’ve got no alibi?’
‘No.’
‘And what are probably your hairs were in Dr. Windle sham’s bed? Not to speak of your knife.’
‘So you say.’
‘I shall have to ask you to accompany me to the station.’
‘And if I say no?’
‘You’ll be put under arrest.’
Mary Lou nodded. ‘I think I might just refuse. What happens then?’
‘I fear we will have to use force.’
‘That might be fun.’ She crossed her legs demurely. ‘I’m not going to move. I’ll opt for passive resistance—the Gandhi approach.’
‘Sir, could I have a word?’
‘Do you have to?’
‘Yes.’
Pooley and Romford left the room. ‘Sir, if we take her by force out of St. Martha’s there’ll be a riot.’
‘What do you suggest I do?’
‘Let her go for the time being. Anyone could have put those hairs in the bed and taken her knife to implicate her. And it really is highly unlikely she’s going to be murdering people a few days after arriving in the country.’
‘I can see you don’t understand Americans, Pooley—or blacks for that matter. Those Yardies in Brixton shoot you as soon as look at you. I know about them.’
‘Sir, this is a scholar of impeccable respectability.’
Romford was obdurate. ‘I know my duty. Now come along, find the lads and we’ll take her in.’
Pooley ran frantically to the Bursar’s office. She was sitting with her feet on the desk reading a newspaper. He panted out his story.
She whirled her feet to the floor and jumped up. ‘He’s off his nut. Has he no idea what it will do to St. Martha’s, not to speak of the reputation of the Cambridgeshire con stabu lary, if an innocent woman—and black to boot—is dragged off in chains?’
‘Well, I’m glad you think she’s innocent,’ said Pooley. ‘So do I.’
‘Was she asked about an alibi?’
‘Yep. Said she didn’t have one.’
‘Well, well. Now I call that behaving like a gentleman in a big way.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘She’s protecting the fair name of young Robert, of course.’
‘You don’t mean…?’
‘Ellis, don’t be an idiot. Where do you think he was off to last night. Where do you think he’d been the night before?’
Pooley suddenly remembered the two poured whiskies from two nights previously.
‘They mightn’t have spent the night together.’
‘I was at breakfast with them this morning. Two cats who’d each swallowed a canary.’
‘Well, why wouldn’t she tell Romford that?’
‘Because of Rachel, of course. If she’s the sort of girl I think she is, she doesn’t want to mess up Robert’s life.’
‘But she could tell us about it in confidence.’
‘Would you trust Romford if you were her?’
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘Come on then. We’d better sort this out.’
‘Are you going to get Robert?’
‘Certainly not. I don’t want to mess up his life either. I’ll use a different stratagem. Now hurry up before Romford claps on the leg irons.’
***
When the Bursar crashed into the interview room, Mary Lou was gazing out of the window and Romford was rereading his notes.
‘I ran into young Pooley. He tells me you are proposing to arrest my colleague.’
‘I have no option, I fear, Miss Troutbeck. She refuses to accompany us to the station.’
‘You bloody well do have an option. You can leave her alone
. She’s got a rock-solid alibi.’
‘Not one that we’re aware of, ma’am.’
‘She spent the entire night with me, from about 11:15, was it, Mary Lou? Until after 7:00 this morning.’
‘Why should I believe you? You could have been in a conspiracy together.’
‘As anyone will tell you, we’re on opposite sides in the college dispute.’
Romford looked at Mary Lou. ‘Is this true?’
‘Yep.’
‘Why didn’t you say so?’
‘I didn’t think it would be good for either the Bursar’s reputation or mine.’
The Bursar smiled at her indulgently. ‘It wouldn’t be good for your reputation to be arrested for murder, you silly girl.’ She leaned over and ruffled Mary Lou’s hair. ‘Now come on. Unless the inspector’s got anything more to ask you I think we’d better be off. There are a few matters of college business I need to talk to you about.’ As they left, the Bursar turned towards Romford and gave him an enormous wink.
Chapter 25
‘Don’t you think, sir, that the likelihood is that somebody planted those hairs deliberately to implicate Mary Lou?’
‘Who would do that?’
‘The murderer.’ Pooley was amazed at his own patience.
Romford looked uncertainly at the college list. For some reason that escaped Pooley, he seemed to be trying to find the murderer by the application of simple guesswork. ‘Who should we call next, do you think?’
‘Sir, wouldn’t it be better to wait until the field has been narrowed a little? We should have the result of alibi checks shortly. Perhaps if you were to go back to the station and coordinate forensic I could hang on here and pull the paperwork together. Then we would have something to go on maybe later in the afternoon.’
Romford was too discouraged even to put up a fight.
***
After he had left, Pooley dialled the Bursar.
‘We’ve got to get at Robert before he blows your alibi.’
‘I’ve dealt with that. He’ll play ball.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Half asleep in the library. Haven’t you noticed he’s getting tireder by the day?’
‘She looked fit enough.’
‘We women are made of sterner stuff, Ellis.’
***
‘The shortlist is very short,’ said Pooley. ‘Crowley, Pusey and the Senior Tutor are now the only ones without alibis.’
Matricide at St. Martha's Page 17
