Deadly Motive

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Deadly Motive Page 14

by DS Butler


  Alex looked up as Ruby approached. “Hey, Ruby. Sorry, we have taken over your desk.”

  Set out in front of them were a selection of Ruby’s notebooks. Ruby picked one up.

  “You unlocked my filing cabinet to get these? And didn’t even ask me?” Ruby shook her head. “Who said you could go rifling through my stuff?”

  O’Connor had the decency to look embarrassed. “I didn’t realise, Ruby. I’m sorry. Professor Clarkson asked Alex to go through your experimental write-up on the aconite work. We want to make sure we don’t make the same mistakes.”

  Alex folded his arms and glared at Ruby. “I didn’t think you would mind.”

  Ruby mirrored his body language. “Well, I do.”

  Alex gave a smug smile. “Professor Clarkson gave me permission to look at your lab books.”

  “I am sure he didn’t say, ‘go ahead and search through Ruby’s personal papers in her filing cabinet and don’t even bother to ask her,’” Ruby said, feeling her cheeks glow.

  “You’re being such a drama queen. I have taken stuff out of your filing cabinet loads of times, and you’ve never made a fuss before,” Alex said.

  Ruby made a sweeping gesture with her hands, as if Dr. O’Connor and Alex were crumbs she wanted to wipe off her desk. “Sorry to inconvenience you, Alex, but I need my desk back now, so if you don’t mind?”

  O’Connor got to his feet. “We didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry we didn’t ask first.”

  Ruby sat down in the chair he had vacated and ignored them both as she plugged in her laptop.

  There was an awkward pause as they both stood watching her before Alex threw his hands up. “What is your problem?”

  Ruby didn’t answer and pretended to be very interested in an incoming email from Sigma, offering a deal of three for the price of two on a selection of chemicals.

  36

  It was mid-afternoon when Mackinnon and Charlotte parked on Mansfield Road. Charlotte was still simmering with anger, but Mackinnon hadn’t mentioned it further and she tried to put the altercation with the protestor to the back of her mind.

  They took their time over the short walk to the Chemistry Research Laboratory. The building was shiny and new, its glass exterior a sharp contrast to the older university buildings surrounding it.

  The glass glinted in the sun and made an impressive, if stark, first impression.

  They walked around the side of the building to the main entrance, which faced away from the road. The glass facade allowed them to see students and staff inside, milling around near the reception area.

  Double-fronted, glass doors opened automatically as they approached the entrance and they walked through to the reception desk.

  “We’re here to see Professor Clarkson, please,” Mackinnon said, and showed his warrant card to the female receptionist. “He is expecting us.”

  On seeing Mackinnon’s ID, the receptionist’s eyes widened with interest. “Just a moment, please.” She picked up the phone and spoke in a quiet voice. “Mike, there’s two police officers here to see you. Yes, they’re at reception now, I think it is about the other night.”

  The receptionist pushed forward a visitor’s book for them to sign, replaced the handset, and leaned towards Mackinnon. “Is this about the protests? We’ve all been expecting something like this to happen for a while.”

  Charlotte glanced at Mackinnon and then back at the receptionist. “You have?”

  “Oh, yes. We all knew it was just a matter of time before they tried something. Oh, here is Mike now.”

  Charlotte and Mackinnon both turned to see a man of around forty-five walking towards them. He looked younger than he sounded on the phone. Dressed in khaki trousers and a white shirt, he didn’t fit Charlotte’s stereotypical image of an academic. No sign of tweed.

  The professor smiled at them and the receptionist. “Thanks Mary, let them through.”

  The receptionist pressed a button from her side of the desk, opening the glass barrier, and she gestured for Charlotte and Mackinnon to walk through and enter the main lobby.

  After introductions were made, Professor Clarkson asked them to follow him to somewhere they could talk. Charlotte and Mackinnon followed him across a walkway, which separated the administration side from the science area of the department. Below them was a huge atrium with a small cafe area to one side. Many of the tables were occupied by students having tea.

  The glass walls continued inside, allowing them to see into the laboratories as they walked along. When they reached the far side of the walkway, the professor pulled out a gold-coloured, swipe card and slid the card through the box next to the door. The light turned green and they entered the science area of the building.

  They followed him down the corridor until he paused in front of a door labelled, “Seminar Room One,” pulled out a bunch of keys and unlocked the door.

  They each took a chair and sat around one end of a huge pine table, the centrepiece of the room.

  “I have already spoken to the Thames Valley Police. I suppose you are aware of that?” Professor Clarkson asked as he laid his keys on the table in front of him.

  Mackinnon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Yes, and we do appreciate your help. But, we have a few more questions we hope you can answer for us.”

  Professor Clarkson shook his head. “I really don’t see how much more I can tell you.” He shrugged. “Our lab was broken into, but nothing appears to be missing. I think it is likely an animal rights group were responsible. Someone clearly decided to make their point a little more strongly.”

  They asked the professor about the break-in and he described the state the lab had been left in; as well as the destruction of samples and research work, which could take months to replicate.

  “I was most worried about our radioactive compounds, but the stores remained locked. We were lucky, I suppose.”

  “Professor Clarkson, we are particularly interested in any aconite you may have in the laboratory. Is there any missing?” Charlotte asked.

  “You think this is related to the poisoning case in London, don’t you?” the professor asked.

  Charlotte nodded.

  “Our local police also asked about that. But all our stocks of aconite are accounted for.”

  “And you keep up-to-date records of the use of this compound?” Charlotte asked.

  “We keep an inventory of all our chemicals and a record of when new supplies are ordered. We keep records ourselves, and there is an extra copy kept in the administration department. All our orders go through the administrator.”

  “Could you try to explain what you are using this aconite for?” Mackinnon asked.

  Professor Clarkson looked happy to be asked this question and pulled a pen and a sheet of A4 paper, with a lecture timetable printed on it, out of his pocket. On the back of the paper, he drew a couple of circles and began to describe the experiment. Charlotte nodded, trying to keep up, but glancing at Mackinnon, she saw his eyes glazing over.

  The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. The professor got up to open it. “Please, excuse me for a moment.”

  After the professor left the room, Mackinnon inched his chair toward Charlotte. “Excuse my ignorance, but did you understand any of that?”

  “They’re testing the aconite on cultured human cells. Some kinds of cancer cells are more susceptible to aconite than healthy cells. So they are looking at it as a potential cancer treatment.”

  Mackinnon looked impressed. “I guess that science degree came in useful in the end.” He seemed as if he were about to ask another question when Professor Clarkson came back in the room.

  “Sorry about that. It was one of my students.”

  “Actually, we did want to talk about your students,” Mackinnon said.

  Professor Clarkson’s smile disappeared. “I can tell you now that there’s absolutely no way that any of them could be involved.”

  37

  Whil
e Mackinnon and Charlotte were talking to Professor Clarkson, Alex was working in the lab.

  He used a pipette to suck up yellow liquid from a glass bottle. Using the same pipette, he transferred the liquid into a row of small, transparent tubes lined up on the lab bench in front of him. Dr. O’Connor watched him work.

  “Ruby seems very upset about losing the post-doc position,” O’Connor said.

  Alex hesitated for a moment, hovering the pipette over the next tube. “She is more upset than I expected. I think she might even go back to China now,” Alex said and squirted the yellow liquid into three more tubes before hanging the pipette back on its plastic rack.

  “It is a shame. Previously, her work had been of a very high standard. I was very surprised she failed to reproduce those experiments, but I need someone consistent in their work, someone like you, Alex.”

  Alex looked uncomfortable and kept his eyes fixed on the tubes in front of him.

  O’Connor kept watching Alex. He noticed he had been subdued since the argument with Ruby and instinct told him something else was behind Alex’s tetchy mood. “It is strange that she couldn’t repeat those experiments.”

  Alex reached across and snapped the lids down on each of the tubes in turn. “There are lots of reasons why the experiment may have failed. Maybe the samples were old, or there was a problem with the cells.”

  O’Connor nodded. He noticed red blotches developing on Alex’s cheeks and along the side of his neck. “I see. Do you think I should have given her a second chance?”

  Alex looked up. “Yes. Ruby has excellent skills in analytical chemistry. I could focus more on the biological side and Ruby on the chemical. And you did say you were looking to get a chemist on board to look at drug design.”

  “You’re not saying this because you feel guilty, are you, Alex?” O’Connor asked.

  “Why should I feel guilty? No, it isn’t that. I really think she would be a great person to have working with us. I think you’d be missing out if you didn’t employ her.”

  O’Connor raised an eyebrow. “I’d be missing out?”

  “Yes. You can ask anyone in the lab, and you know how highly Professor Clarkson thinks of her. He said, in front of all of us, that she is the best student he has ever had.”

  “Presumably, that didn’t go down terribly well with the rest of you. No one likes their efforts to go unnoticed or to be eclipsed by someone else, do they?”

  Alex looked down at the tubes in front of him, pulled a black marker pen out of his lab coat pocket and began to label the tubes. He shrugged.

  “Alex, is there anything else you would like to tell me?”

  “No. What do you mean?” Alex’s marker pen, in the process of labelling a tube, slipped and left a black mark on his thumb.

  “When I first offered you the post-doc, you were very keen to accept, even though you knew Ruby wanted it too. Survival of the fittest and all that, but now you seem like you are feeling guilty. What have you got to feel guilty about?”

  “Nothing. I don’t feel guilty. I am just trying to put in a good word for a friend, that’s all.”

  “I think you should know, Alex, that I couldn’t work with someone I didn’t trust. I couldn’t tolerate a colleague trying to hide things from me.”

  Alex looked up, the blotches on his cheeks more prominent now. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “Oh, I think you do, Alex. I think you and I need to have a little chat about scientific integrity.”

  38

  Professor Clarkson sighed. “I’ll have a word with my DPhil students, ask them to cooperate.”

  “I’d appreciate that, I know Ruby Wei has already helped us with our enquiries, but I hoped we could learn more from an informal chat with your students,” Mackinnon said. “It isn’t my intention to disrupt your work and we don’t want anyone to feel victimised.”

  The professor sighed again and looked down at his keys. “Yes, all right. Well, you know about Ruby Wei. I’ve got two others working for me. Alex Rush and Gus Gilmore. I think Alex and Ruby are around today, up in the library, but Gus is off with flu.”

  “And do they all work with aconite?” Charlotte asked.

  “Only Ruby and Alex.”

  “Ruby’s in her final year of her PhD, isn’t she?” Charlotte asked.

  “DPhil. We call them DPhils here, not PhDs. Actually, all three of them are. They could really do without the added stress of this. And of course, they have the symposium coming up.” Professor Clarkson scooped up his keys from the table and stood up.

  Mackinnon rubbed his chest as he got to his feet.

  “Symposium? What is that?” Mackinnon asked, as they headed out of the seminar room.

  Professor Clarkson locked the door and began to walk along the corridor, jangling his keys. Charlotte had to walk quickly to keep up with him and Mackinnon.

  “A presentation of their work,” the professor said. “All the third years have to do it and everyone in the department attends - all the staff and students. They give a twenty minute talk on their research, and prizes are awarded for the best presentations.”

  Professor Clarkson paused, opened the next door they came to, labelled the “Science Library,” and poked his head around the door. “Alex? Ruby? Can I have a word?”

  Charlotte heard shuffling of papers and squeaking of chairs against the floor before Alex and Ruby came out into the corridor.

  “I’d like you to meet DS Mackinnon and DC Brown.” The professor put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “They would like to ask you a few questions.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m very sorry, but I have a tutorial…”

  “That’s not a problem. I am sure Ruby and Alex can help us out in your absence. Thanks for your time,” Mackinnon said.

  Professor Clarkson paused for a moment as if he would like to stay and hear what his students had to say, but he looked at his watch again, frowned and then hurried off.

  “Ruby, Alex.” Mackinnon looked from one to the other.

  This would not be easy. He focused on Ruby first. “We hoped we could have a chat. We need as much information as possible, as much as you can tell us about the set-up of the lab, people with access to aconite, that sort of thing.”

  Ruby crossed her arms. “No one would tell me anything. I don’t see why the situation wasn’t explained to me before my interview.”

  “I appreciate it may feel like you were kept in the dark, but it would really help if we could have a chat now, just an informal one,” Charlotte said. “You may know more than you realize.”

  Mackinnon popped a Rennie from its silver wrapper. “You’re both in your final year, aren’t you? This must be a real pain, all this disruption.”

  Alex nodded. “Tell me about it. I thought all our work was destroyed the other night.”

  “But nothing was taken? Nothing destroyed?” Mackinnon asked.

  Alex shook his head. “No, if there was, it might have been better.” He looked at Ruby. “We would’ve gotten an extension then.”

  Ruby shoved a stray lock of her straight black hair behind her ear. “We won’t need an extension, Alex, and anyway, we have all checked our stocks, including the aconite, and nothing is missing.”

  “Is the aconite secured?” Charlotte asked.

  “Secured?” Ruby frowned. “It is really only the radioactive stuff that is kept under lock and key.”

  “But you need clearance to get into your lab?” Charlotte asked.

  “Yes our swipe cards are programmed to let us enter the main entrance as well as labs on the chemical biology floor,” Alex said.

  “So how do you think someone from outside got into the lab? There were no signs of a forced entry on the doors to the labs,” Mackinnon said.

  Alex’s eyes widened. “Oh, it could have been an inside job!”

  “Ignore him, he watches too much TV. He’s into CSI and all that sort of thing,” Ruby said. “Perhaps the main door wasn’t shut properly. That happens q
uite a lot.”

  “That’s true,” Alex said.

  Ruby looked at Alex. “And the front door....well, if they timed it right.... and someone was just leaving the building, they could just slip in behind, couldn’t they?”

  Alex nodded.

  Mackinnon looked at Charlotte writing the details in her notebook and then said, “Were either of you in the lab between eight and eleven thirty on the night of the break-in?”

  Alex shook his head.

  Ruby sighed. “Yes, but I’ve already been over this. I was here until about eleven thirty, and no, I didn’t hear anything. I was in the write-up room, but I can see into the lab from there and it looked fine when I left.”

  Mackinnon nodded and thanked them both for their time. “Let me give you my card. If you think of anything, give me a call.” He pointed to a number printed on the bottom of the card. “That’s my mobile number. We may have to come and talk to you again, but it wasn’t so bad this time, was it?”

  “Not my idea of fun, though,” Ruby said without smiling.

  “Right then, we’ll let you get back to whatever kind of fun you were having before we arrived. But first, can one of you can show us to the chairman’s office?”

  “Sure, I’ll do it,” said Alex.

  For the first time, Ruby smiled. “Rather you than me.”

  39

  “What did she mean? Rather you than me?” Mackinnon asked Alex as he led them back across the elevated walkway to the admin side of the building.

  Alex shot him a sideways glance. “The chairman does have a bit of a reputation.”

  Alex led them along the corridor, back past the reception and into a large room. The walls were beige, but they couldn’t see much of them, huge shelves stacked with black ring binders covered every wall.

  Seated at a desk in the centre of the room was a small, dark-haired woman of about forty-five or so. She looked up and smiled as Alex led them up to her desk.

  “This is Mrs. Linda Gilmore,” Alex said. “She’s the chairman’s administrative assistant.”

  Charlotte and Mackinnon both nodded and said hello.

 

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