by James Runcie
‘I’ve seen her grow up. I think it has to be one of the students.’
‘What about Emily Hastings? From what you tell me, she seems the most likely suspect.’
‘I’ve been thinking about that. It may be a question of timing. If she arrived later than we think, approaching from the town and across Long Meadow, she might have been behind Richard Lane just before the cows attacked.’
‘You mean they could have been going for her?’
‘Possibly.’
‘But they didn’t reach her because they got to the boy instead?’
‘And she managed to escape along the riverbank, possibly getting across in a boat or a punt.’
‘But then she would have been breathless when she met the weird musician.’
‘He’s not that odd.’
‘Did you ask him if she was breathless?’
‘No, not yet. I hadn’t even met her when I first spoke to him.’
‘Then perhaps you should see him again?’
‘I will, Geordie. But even then she would have had to recross the river to steal the necklace when Olivia and Alexander had gone to help. And how would she know it was there? She hadn’t even reached the party.’
‘Unless she’d seen Olivia beforehand.’
‘We need to ask her about that too. We could also search her rooms if you like. I’m sure I could swing it with the principal of Newnham.’
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’
‘Then there is the happy or not-so-happy couple . . .’
Geordie checked his notebook. ‘Olivia Randall and Alexander Farley. I suppose the girl could have kept the necklace all along, but I don’t think she has the cunning to do that. The new boyfriend is a different matter, though. He could easily have taken it.’
‘But why would he? And how could he have kept it from her?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe he wanted it as some kind of proof that he had known her.’
‘But he must have thought Olivia was enough of a catch.’
‘His boat had come in, his icing was on the cake and all his Christmases had come at once. What’s he like?’ Geordie asked. ‘How new a boyfriend is he? How much does he love her? And would he have the means to sell the sapphire? It’s certainly easy enough for him to have taken it as she slept. He’d already removed half her clothes; a necklace wouldn’t have been too much of a challenge. It could even have fallen off in their little tryst. I think you need to get to see him on his own, Sidney, unless you want my help. I don’t seem to have done very much so far and we’re not making a lot of progress with the other students. Who are you talking to next?’
‘I fear that decision is out of my hands. Helena’s mother is about to arrive. Have you ever met her?’
‘Fortunately, not.’
‘Perhaps you’d better keep it that way.’
‘I’ve nothing to hide.’
‘If Helena’s told her anything about you, there’ll be trouble. A married man like you, flirting away with a woman young enough to be his daughter . . .’
‘She’s not that young.’
‘She was when you started.’
‘Started what? My relationship with Helena, not that it ever was a relationship, has always been above board. There might have been a mild flirtation, mind, but I have always behaved in an appropriate manner and anyone who thinks that there has been anything untoward can . . .’
‘Teasing again, Geordie . . .’
‘You bastard, Sidney. What about you and Barbara Wilkinson? Don’t get me started on that.’
‘A mere bagatelle. Shall I get the drinks or not?’
‘It’s definitely your round. And time to talk about something else; cricket, perhaps.’
‘Cricket? You must be desperate.’
‘I am desperate, Sidney – for another pint, if nothing else. We’ll have to be on best behaviour when that woman arrives, especially if she’s anything like her eldest daughter.’
Hermione Randall – ‘that woman’ – was a briskly efficient, tightly groomed society lady who wore a pink and cream Chanel two-piece suit with a Maison Michel hat and spoke with a snappy bravado that put action above thought. As they took Earl Grey and scones at the Orchard Tea Rooms the following day, Mrs Randall told Sidney that she was already ‘more than irritated’ as she was almost certainly going to have to delay her forthcoming motoring tour of the Loire Valley. This was a considerable disappointment as it jeopardised the highlight of the entire trip, a chance to meet Robert Carrier, chef and author of Great Dishes of the World. ‘We’re due to have dinner with him in the Château de Chenonceau. I’ve already bought the dress. Courrèges. I chose one in midnight-blue silk and satin that would specifically suit my necklace. And now that fool of a child has contrived to lose it.’
‘To be fair to Olivia,’ Sidney replied, ‘it may have been stolen.’
‘That would not have been the case if she had looked after it properly.’
‘It is something of a family heirloom, I gather?’
‘My grandfather brought the jewel back from Ceylon after working for the governor, Arthur Hamilton-Gordon. They went on to run the Pacific Islands Company, which dealt in mining, and so he had it set in diamonds from South Africa. The platinum for the chain is apparently from Colombia. He liked to say that it came from all over the globe. When he first put the necklace round my grandmother’s neck he said she was the centre of his world.’
‘Very romantic.’
‘My mother wore it when she was one of the last debutantes to be presented to Queen Victoria. Then it was passed on to me, in 1930, when Haile Selassie was declared Emperor of Ethiopia. I was going to give it to Helena but she has such unsuitable skin and I couldn’t bear to hand it over. Even then I only loaned it to Olivia. I don’t know why I did; to part with something that is so inextricably linked not just with the story of our family but with history itself was madness. I cannot understand how my daughter has been so careless with such a treasure. To leave the thing lying in a field!’
‘Olivia is convinced that it was taken from round her neck.’
‘While she was too drunk to wake up. You don’t need to spare me the details. We have to get it back, that’s all. I’ve had a word with your man Keating and any jeweller worth his salt will know that the necklace has been stolen. It will be almost impossible to resell. I’ve also put up a reward of one hundred pounds.’
‘You’re making the theft public? I remember that Helena wanted the whole thing to be kept low-key.’
‘That is hardly the case now I know all about it. She’s a journalist, Mr Archdeacon. We might as well put her to some use. It’s about time that girl did something for her family rather than herself.’
When he next saw Roger Waters, the thoughtful sound-recordist, working further upriver by Byron’s Pool, Sidney asked if Emily Hastings had been wet or breathless when she had spoken to him that day on the Meadows. He also wanted to know how soon the incident with the cows occurred after they had met. Could the stampede have already begun by the time she had reached him?
‘No, it wasn’t like that. We had a good chat. Then we spotted what was going on.’
‘And did you see the lovers run towards the cows?’
‘There was so much happening.’
‘But were you aware of a canoodling couple?’
‘I’ve already told you. But I don’t like to look at that kind of thing. I get plenty of that at home.’
‘You have a girlfriend?’
‘Yes, I do. Not that it has much to do with all this.’
‘She doesn’t mind you going off, making recordings and talking to strangers?’
‘She’s used to that. I’m in a band. It happens all the time.’
‘And when Emily left, did she stay the same side of the river?’
‘As far as I could see, yes she did.’
‘On the Cambridge side, not the Grantchester side?’
‘That’s right. She went back towards Coe
Fen.’
‘She couldn’t have crossed the river and stolen the necklace from the spot where Olivia and Alexander had been doing their . . .’
‘Ummagumma? No. I don’t think so. In any case, she didn’t seem like that type of girl.’
‘And you never crossed the river yourself?’
‘Why would I do that? Do you think I took the necklace? Blimey, you’ve got a nerve. I didn’t know it was there, did I? I can’t see anything from here. I hardly move. That’s the point. Sound washes past me. I stay still. I let the sounds come to me.’
‘I’m sorry, I was only wondering.’
The man was almost amused. ‘In any case, what are you doing involving yourself in all this? You’re a vicar.’
‘I know the girl’s mother. And her sister.’
‘Are you keen on either of them yourself? Is that what it is?’
‘That’s quite a direct question.’
‘You started asking them.’
‘I am married.’
‘Still, to be married and yet to be at the beck and call of three other women; that must take some doing.’
‘Believe me, Roger, I won’t be involving myself again. I’m sorry to have asked such questions. It’s all got out of hand. I’ve just about had enough.’
‘I’m more interested in music than ummagumma. You should come to one of our concerts; the band might take off.’
‘Is there any hope of that?’
‘We’re playing all the universities and we’re going to Holland. And we’ve got a record deal. I think there’s a chance we might be on Late Night Line-Up. So it’s possible. Just let me know if you want to come.’
Sidney smiled. He couldn’t imagine it at all. ‘I’d like that,’ he said. ‘And my wife might too. She’s the musician in our family.’
‘I might even write something about that girl,’ Roger continued. ‘There’s something about her. The sunlight on her eyes.’
‘Well, you know where to find me.’
‘I don’t actually.’
‘Ely Cathedral.’
‘But are you ever there?’ Roger asked.
Sidney thought that he should visit Abigail Redmond once more, not because he considered her a suspect, but because he wanted to know if she could remember anything further about the immediate aftermath of the accident. He also mentioned the hundred-pound reward.
‘That’s not going to make much difference, is it?’ she said.
‘Whyever not?’
‘If a poor person stole the necklace they can get more for it when they sell it, and a rich person doesn’t need the money.’
‘I think it’s a reward for information. So if you know anything . . .’
‘Don’t insult me, Mr Chambers. I don’t need to be bribed to tell the truth.’
‘I just wanted to check one thing. You can’t, by any chance, remember if Olivia Randall was wearing a necklace or not at the time of the accident?’
‘She could have been. I might have noticed. I might not. I did have other things on my mind.’
‘But she was definitely there when you were trying to get the cows off?’
‘Oh yes. She was there all right, screaming away with her shirt half-undone. So there was no necklace, come to think of it. Her boyfriend wasn’t with her, though.’
‘Yes, I remember. He went to get help.’
‘That’s what he claims.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘He didn’t return by road. He came from the river. You won’t get much help from there.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I remember seeing him do some kind of arc. I thought he was trying to avoid the cows but now I realise that he was making it look like he was coming from somewhere else.’
‘And it was definitely Alexander Farley?’
‘I don’t know his name. He had one of those floppy floral shirts with a big collar and he made a great song and dance about how help was on its way.’
‘Do you know something, Abigail?’ Sidney replied. ‘You might just have earned yourself a hundred pounds.’
In order to make sure this was possible he went back to Corpus to talk once more to its guest of honour, Mrs Hermione Randall; a woman, Sidney surmised, who was in desperate need of a title before her name. He only hoped she would be appropriately ladylike when she heard his proposition. He was now pretty confident that he could ensure the discreet return of the necklace in exchange for the reward.
‘You have secured the necessary information?’ she asked.
‘I think so.’
‘And are you prepared to reveal the name of the culprit?’
‘Not until I have hold of the necklace. It is a delicate matter.’
‘I hope that doesn’t mean you have stolen it yourself, Mr Archdeacon.’
Sidney decided to be amused rather than insulted. ‘Not at all. I am afraid that you will have to take it on trust that I am acting in the best interests of everyone.’
‘If you maintain your secrecy, I am not sure the police will agree with you.’
‘I am hoping they will never know.’
‘You mean to keep this from Helena’s friendly inspector?’
‘He is my friend too.’
‘I hear that Helena has him wrapped round her little finger.’
Sidney could have made it clear that their relationship had been slightly more complex than that – a flirtation that had lasted for over a decade – but he did not want to make matters worse. ‘I don’t think anyone would wish to get on the wrong side of either of your daughters.’
‘Oh, Olivia is a pushover. Helena has a bit more grit. That’s from my side of the family.’
‘I don’t think anyone would take any of you lightly. You are a formidable unit.’
‘That is kind. I see you mean to flatter me into submission.’
‘If I could possibly have a cheque for the reward? Then we can move swiftly towards resolution.’
Mrs Randall reached for her handbag. ‘Whom shall I make it out to?’
You don’t catch me out like that, Sidney thought. ‘If you would leave me to fill in the name of the payee.’
‘You are worried that if I know the perpetrator I shall report them?’
‘This is not the perpetrator but a witness.’
‘And will we ever know who that is?’
‘I hope not. But I am sure the money will be put to good use. Think of it as a charitable donation.’
Hermione Randall wrote out the cheque. ‘I give enough to charity as it is. This feels more like blackmail.’
‘I can assure you it is not. Once the money is cleared . . .’
‘Cleared? You mean we are going to have to wait another three days?’
‘I am afraid so.’
‘You think I might cancel the cheque? That is not very trusting.’
‘I know that a lady would never do such a thing. But a bank might.’
‘I do have sufficient funds.’
‘I am sure you do.’
‘All I want is the necklace. Three days!’
‘You could look upon it as an opportunity to spend more time with your daughters. We could even discuss Helena’s wedding.’
‘I am in no mood for planning celebrations.’
‘Then I can only hope that will change. What was lost is about to be found.’
Mrs Randall signed the cheque and tore it from her book. ‘Is that the parable of the lost sheep? It would be more appropriate if it was a cow.’
‘It’s the parable of the prodigal son; or in this case, perhaps, the prodigal daughter. Thank you, Mrs Randall.’
‘I suppose you may call me Hermione.’
‘I am not sure I am ready for that,’ Sidney replied.
He made his way across to the fourteenth-century buildings of Old Court, pretending to leave the college by St Bene’t’s Gate, but turned left up a staircase that led to Alexander Farley’s rooms. Fortunately the student was in, alone and almost unsurprised
by Sidney’s visit.
‘I assume you want to ask us some more questions,’ he said. ‘I am seeing Olivia later. We are having lunch with her mother.’
‘That must be something of a challenge for you. I don’t imagine you were expecting to spend so much time with her.’
‘She is quite a difficult woman, I admit.’
‘I mean,’ Sidney cut to the chase, ‘that it must be hard for you to keep silent.’
‘What are you implying?’
‘I am talking about the necklace.’
‘You think I stole it? Why would I do that? If Olivia found out she’d be furious. It would be the end of everything.’
‘But I don’t think you expect this relationship to last long, do you?’ Sidney persisted. ‘Once she is back in London and you are doing your vocational training, it’s going to be hard to continue.’
‘I don’t know about that.’
‘I think you do, Alexander.’
‘But why would I steal?’
‘To prove you could. I think it’s a kind of trophy, a souvenir of something you know will never last. Olivia is very beautiful, probably the most stunning girl you have ever known. I wonder if you think you will never find someone as attractive again. It’s the end of Cambridge. You are in a field, the celebrations are all around you, it couldn’t be more perfect, and then it all goes horribly wrong; the violent accident; the ex-boyfriend; you see how upset Olivia is, her mood changes, and you pick up the one thing of beauty that remains: the necklace. It’s an impulsive decision. You somehow believe you have a right to it, your very own Cambridge blue.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘I actually think you meant to give it back. You could have said that you held it for safekeeping, you could even have pretended to have found it. But during the search you became aware that Abigail Redmond, the farmer’s daughter, could be blamed. Emily Hastings could also have stolen it. Even poor old Richard Lane could have taken it before the accident, while you were asleep. So you decided that you might as well hang on to it. And you did so for so long that it soon became too late to do anything other than keep it. You were stuck with it, unable to give it back without looking stupid, guilty or causing an enormous fuss.’
‘An interesting theory . . .’
‘Now the situation won’t go away. The longer it goes on the worse it gets. I know the necklace must be here, in your rooms, or you have hidden it somewhere. I’m giving you the opportunity to return it. This is your only hope, Alexander. Otherwise I will call in the police. And then your troubles really will begin. You will have a criminal record, there will be no chance of practising law, and your career will be over before it has begun. These are your choices. You can either confess what you have done and give the necklace back to Olivia, taking a risk on her forgiveness, or, alternatively, you can hand it to me.’
