by DS Butler
O’Connor gave a tight smile. “I suppose I deserved that. But I won’t retract the offer this time. I give you my word.”
They crossed the road in silence, then Ruby said, “Do you really think the police investigation will interfere with the aconite project?”
“Yes, I’m sure it will. But at least the transfer of our funding money hasn’t been held up.”
“Why would the money transfer have been held up?”
O’Connor slowed his pace and turned to face her. He hesitated as if he were debating what to say, or how much to tell her, then he smiled. “Probably best if I don’t tell you anything about that.”
Ruby gritted her teeth. Nothing was transparent.
O’Connor tried to distract her by talking about the project. “I think we will stick with the liver cancer cell line for now, but we should start thinking about how we can alter the aconite to make the toxic effects more specific.”
They discussed the project until they arrived at the bus stop, outside the gates of the Radcliffe Infirmary, and O’Connor insisted on waiting until Ruby had gotten on the bus.
“I do catch this bus every night. There’s no reason for you to wait.”
But he ignored her protests, and despite the number of other people at the bus stop, he waited with her until the number twenty bus rolled into view. Ruby flagged down the bus and said goodbye to O’Connor.
The bus was pretty empty, so she took a seat downstairs.
She looked over her shoulder to see O’Connor still standing at the bus stop, staring at her, and despite the blast of warm air from the bus’ heaters, she shivered.
46
The following morning at Wood Street Station, Charlotte sought out Mackinnon, who sat upstairs in the McCallan Room, cradling a cup of coffee. He looked tired. She apologized straight away.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said and took a sip from his coffee.
Charlotte sunk into the seat next to him. “It does. I gave Brookbank ammunition against you. I should have called you, but I wanted to give you time to sort things out, so I phoned Brookbank.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“It’s fine. He wasn’t that bad about me going home early, just annoyed the graffiti artist managed to get away. But we’ll track him down.” He looked up at her from his coffee. “How are you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Brookbank said you were pretty strung out when you spoke to him yesterday.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I was fine. Just annoyed he got away, that’s all.”
“You’re sure it was the guy on the CCTV?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
“Look, tell me to mind my own business if you want, but you seem a bit edgy. Is anything wrong?”
“No, I’m not edgy. I’m fine,” she said over her shoulder, as she walked over to join the queue for coffee.
When she returned and sat down next to him, Mackinnon continued, determined not to let it rest.
“You reacted pretty strongly to the girl with the megaphone.”
Charlotte sat open-mouthed for a few seconds before she said, “She screamed in my ear.”
Mackinnon nodded and looked down at his cup. “Look, you don’t have to tell me, but there are rumours...”
Charlotte clenched her fists under the table. “Yeah?”
Mackinnon turned his chair around so he could face her. “I don’t want to pry. I’m just trying to understand where this jumpiness is coming from.”
“First I’m edgy, now I’m jumpy? What on earth are you talking about?” Charlotte shoved her chair back from the table, determined to leave.
Mackinnon held onto her arm. “Wait. There’s no need to be so defensive. I understand.”
Charlotte didn’t say anything. She just stared at Mackinnon, waiting to hear what he would say next. For a couple of minutes, they just sat facing each other. Finally Mackinnon spoke.
“You transferred from the Met,” he said.
Charlotte nodded. “Yeah, and your point is?”
Mackinnon exhaled slowly. “I’m only guessing, but I would say from your reactions over the last few days that something happened to make you apply for the transfer?”
Charlotte shrugged. “Nothing major.”
Mackinnon raised an eyebrow.
“This place is pathetic. Everyone’s gossiping about each other. You should hear what people have been saying about you,” she said.
“I can imagine,” Mackinnon said.
Charlotte stared at her coffee. It was weak and barely lukewarm, but she took a sip anyway. “What do you want me to say? I just fancied a change, and I am not jumpy.”
Mackinnon held up his hands in defeat. “Okay, fair enough. I’ll drop it.”
Charlotte looked at the dregs of coffee in Mackinnon’s cup. “Are you going to finish that? We have to get to Brookbank’s office.”
*
Charlotte noticed a subtle change in Brookbank’s mood when they met up. She had no idea what caused it, but she was happy with the change. There was no pacing behind his desk for one thing. He just sat back in his chair and studied Charlotte and Mackinnon.
Charlotte shifted awkwardly in her seat. “Has there been any sign of the graffiti artist?”
Brookbank shook his head. “No. No sign of him so far.”
Charlotte bowed her head. “I really am sorry, sir. I should have reacted better.”
Brookbank raised his eyebrows as if he was surprised by her statement. “We’ll track him down soon.” He turned to Mackinnon.
Charlotte braced herself; when the recriminations came she would be ready. She had already planned what to say: it was all her fault since she had insisted Mackinnon go home and deal with a family emergency.
But the recriminations didn’t come.
Brookbank didn’t say anything for a few moments. He rummaged in the bottom drawer of his desk.
Charlotte shot Mackinnon a questioning look and he answered with a shrug.
Brookbank pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Ah, here they are. Entry logs. DC Webb looked through these logs and noted an inconsistency that could be significant.”
Charlotte took the proffered papers.
“To get into the university building you need an access card. Everyone in the department has one,” Brookbank said. “They have to swipe it at the main entrance and the system records the card’s code. So basically, we have a record of everyone who entered the building, at least everyone who entered through that main door.”
Charlotte thought back to her trip to the department. She remembered the cards.
There was something about them... she couldn’t quite remember... but something important.
When they interviewed Professor Clarkson, he took them to the seminar room so they could talk. He used a gold-coloured card to gain entry through an internal door.
“These records show everyone entering the chemistry department on the night of the break-in?” Charlotte looked at Brookbank for confirmation. He nodded.
“And what about inside the building?” Charlotte asked. “Does the system record who enters the different laboratories?”
“Unfortunately not. We know who entered the building, but not whether they entered the laboratory,” Brookbank said. “But it is still useful. We know who was in the building around the time of the break-in: Ruby Wei, who works in the lab with the aconite, Linda Gilmore who works in administration and four other students from other research groups: John Dent, Rita Long, Roger Tully and Bryan Carton, plus the security guard. But what is most interesting is Ruby Wei’s entry.”
Brookbank walked around to their side of the desk and pointed to a line of data on the sheet in Charlotte’s hand. “That’s her code, the one ending in 206. She enters here at seven forty-five.”
“That would be about right. She said she went back to the lab after dinner, around half past seven and…” Mackinnon leaned over to see the sheet of paper and traced his finger down the list. “She
left at eleven forty-five, which matches with her statement and what we saw on the surveillance tape.”
“Yes, but that isn’t the interesting part. There is another entry. May I?” Brookbank took the sheets from Charlotte and turned the third page around to face them. He pointed midway down the page. “She enters at seven forty-five, as she said, or close enough anyway, but then here it says she entered again at ten forty-five.”
Mackinnon took the printout from Brookbank and studied it. “So when did she leave?”
Brookbank shrugged. “That’s just it, she didn’t.”
Mackinnon re-scanned the list and Charlotte looked over his shoulder.
“She must have left,” Charlotte said. “How can she have entered for a second time without leaving first?”
Mackinnon hunched his shoulders as he leaned forward over the document. “What if she left via another exit that wasn’t logged, like a fire escape?”
“Why would she do that?” Charlotte shook her head. “Besides the fire doors would be alarmed.”
“Has anyone asked Ruby Wei about this?” Charlotte asked.
“I thought perhaps you and DS Mackinnon could talk to her today, seeing as you’re going to Oxford to ask her if she can identify our graffiti artist on the CCTV. And I am sure Mackinnon would like to be back on home turf, too.” Brookbank smiled.
Why was Brookbank being nice to Mackinnon all of a sudden? Charlotte looked at Mackinnon to see if he was as surprised as she was, but he seemed to be unaware of the sudden shift in Brookbank’s personality.
Charlotte shrugged. “Okay.”
“Good, good,” said Brookbank, rubbing his hands together.
As Charlotte and Mackinnon stood to leave, Brookbank said, “Remember, only show the CCTV to the students of that lab, no one else. We don’t want to upset Sir Jim again.”
“God forbid,” Mackinnon muttered as they left the room.
47
Two hours later, Mackinnon and Charlotte arrived at the Chemistry Research Laboratory.
Professor Clarkson was at a conference in Liverpool and Gus and Donald were attending a lecture on porphyria in the Wolfson seminar room, so they made a start with Alex and Ruby.
The four of them sat in the lab’s write-up area, separated from the lab by huge glass panels. The write-up area was long, but narrow, and lined with desks, each one with a desktop computer.
Alex and Ruby sat in front of a computer monitor. Mackinnon used the mouse to click on the play symbol on the media player window and said, “Tell us if you recognize him, even if you don’t know his name.”
The screen flickered to life and a black and white image of the exterior of the building came into view. Mackinnon paused the playback.
“This was the night of the break-in. Look, there he is in the corner.” Mackinnon crouched down next to the screen and pointed at the shadowy figure in the background.
“I don’t know him,” said Alex.
“It is too dark to see anything,” said Ruby.
“Hold your horses,” Mackinnon said. “About a minute into the footage, he turns around and you’ll get a pretty good look at his face.”
Mackinnon pressed play. They all watched as the shadowy figure came closer to the camera and then pulled paint canisters from a plastic bag.
Alex leaned forward in his seat so he was only inches away from the screen.
On screen, the graffiti artist turned to the camera, displaying his shocked face as his hood slipped back.
“Oh shit,” Alex said and clamped a hand over his mouth.
“What is it? Do you recognize him?” Mackinnon pressed pause, leaving the graffiti artist’s face static on the screen.
“No, never seen him. I was just shocked by the way he showed his face to the camera like that,” Alex said.
“How about you, Ruby? Have you seen him around at all?” Charlotte asked.
Ruby looked at Alex. She hesitated and when she finally answered, she looked down at the floor. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t recognize him.”
Alex kept his eyes fixed on Ruby.
“Are you sure, Ruby? You came out just after this and walked right past him,” Mackinnon said.
Ruby turned back to Mackinnon. “No, I’m sorry. I really don’t know who he is.”
Charlotte’s shoulders slumped. “He might not be in your department, but you may have seen him around the university?”
Alex shook his head. “No, sorry; we’ve never seen him.”
Mackinnon and Charlotte watched them walk out of the room in subdued silence. That was odd in itself.
*
Charlotte sat in the write-up area, waiting for the lunchtime lecture to finish. She had really hoped Ruby or Alex would have recognized the graffiti artist. She didn’t know why, but she had a strong feeling he was important. Perhaps he was the decoy? Maybe they would have more luck with the other students, Gus and Donald, when they returned from their lecture.
Mackinnon had gone to fetch some coffee from the little cafeteria in the atrium. It felt like she had been sitting there for ages waiting for Gus and Donald. Maybe the lecture had finished and they chose to go straight to lunch rather than come back to the lab?
She decided to check. Ruby had told them the lecture was in the Wolfson seminar room, and Charlotte knew where that was; they had passed it on the way to the lab. A quick glance through the window, or a brief listen at the door would tell her if the lecture was still going on.
She didn’t get as far as the seminar room.
At the end of the corridor, being pushed along by Alex’s hand in the small of his back, was the elusive graffiti artist.
When he saw Charlotte at the other end of the corridor, Alex stopped with a look of horror on his face. Behind them, stood Ruby, looking equally shocked at being caught in such a blatant lie.
Charlotte strode towards them. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Alex?” she asked. “Funny, but he looks an awful lot like the graffiti artist we’ve been looking for, wouldn’t you say?”
Alex’s cheeks were red and blotchy. “Look, I’m sorry, but I wanted to give him a chance to explain first. I called him, told him he needed to come to my lab, to hand himself in.”
Alex turned to the graffiti artist. “Ted, I’m sorry. This is DC Brown. She is investigating the break-in. She saw you on the CCTV.”
The graffiti artist smiled, his eyes fixed on Charlotte. “I saw you yesterday, didn’t I? My name is Ted Sanders, DC Brown.” The confident smile never left his face.
“Mr. Sanders, we need to ask you some questions.”
Ted nodded. “Sure, I’ll hand myself in tomorrow. I’ll be happy to answer any of your questions.”
Charlotte swallowed and reached for her mobile. “There’s no need for that. I can call now and have someone come and pick you up. We wouldn’t want you to forget, would we?”
Ted shook his head. “I’m sorry DC Brown, but I have a very important appointment to keep. I give you my word. I’ll hand myself in tomorrow.”
Charlotte took a step towards him, her heart thumping, and laid a hand on his arm.
He looked down at her hand. “Oh please,” he said sarcastically.
She tightened her grip. “We need you to answer our questions now,” she said, trying to force an authoritative tone into her voice.
He laughed at her, wrenched his arm from her grip and sprinted down the corridor.
“No, wait!” She ran after him and spun around to Alex to shout over her shoulder, “Where is he going? What is this appointment?”
Alex shrugged.
Charlotte chased Ted, cursing. She would never catch him in time. She was going to lose him again.
Why did he always appear when Mackinnon wasn’t around? She dialled Mackinnon’s number. When he answered, she was already out of breath, nearing the building exit.
And there was no sign of Ted Sanders.
48
After completing a fruitless search for Ted Sanders, Mackinn
on left Charlotte sitting in the cafeteria with a strong coffee.
He couldn’t believe he had let her down. Again.
Deciding to speak to the students alone, he found Alex, who was jumpy and very apologetic, easily enough, but Ruby had disappeared. After a ten-minute search, he finally caught up with her in the write-up area.
Ruby stood, cradling a mug, leaning against the glass wall and looking through the large clear panels into the laboratory.
“Ruby?”
Ruby turned. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’d like a word, please.” Mackinnon folded his arms.
“You’re annoyed with us.”
Mackinnon shook his head at the understatement. “I wish people could tell the truth when we ask them questions because it would save me a hell of a lot of time.”
“I get it.” Ruby set her coffee cup down on the nearby filing cabinet. “You are annoyed because Alex and I told you we didn’t know Ted, but it really wasn’t my place to say anything. It was between Alex and Ted.”
Mackinnon slammed his open palm against the filing cabinet, causing Ruby to jump and her mug to rattle on the metal surface. “Wrong! It was not a private matter between Alex and Ted.”
Ruby put her hands on her hips. “You don’t really believe someone was poisoned using the aconite from our lab?”
“Oh, I see. You’ve decided that the toxin wasn’t taken from your lab, so that makes it all right for you to lie to the police. Do you realize you could be charged for that?”
“Maybe I just didn’t recognize him. It was dark.”
Mackinnon stared at her. “You deliberately lied to us, slowing down the investigation. You could be responsible for…”
“But I thought…”
“No, you didn’t think, you assumed.”
Ruby scowled. “Fine. I assumed this was a smear campaign from an animal rights group. That it was a scaremongering tactic. That they were just trying to get some attention by linking our lab to John Weston.”
“Hundred percent sure of that, are you?”
“No, I’m not one hundred percent sure.”
