Deadly Motive

by DS Butler

  As Ruby’s search neared the back of the tray, there was one conspicuous blank hole. She knew, without checking her lab book, that one of O’Connor’s samples was missing.

  In a panic, she yanked the whole drawer out of the freezer, almost dropping it as its weight caught her by surprise.

  She sat on the floor and methodically went through the entire freezer drawer, determined to be absolutely sure.

  She thought she heard a noise from the write-up area.

  Ruby paused in her search and strained her ears against the gentle hum of the freezers, but it remained quiet so she resumed the hopeless search.

  Some twenty minutes later, resigned to the fact that a sample of aconite was missing. She got to her feet and replaced the drawer.

  She left the freezer room and considered what to do next. She needed to tell someone. The police? Professor Clarkson?

  As she walked along the corridor and thought of the professor, she glanced towards his office and saw the light was on. Wanting to share the burden and hoping for some reassurance, she knocked on his door.

  When he didn’t answer, she walked into the office. Professor Clarkson didn’t mind his students going into his office while he wasn’t there. His office had the only external phone line and they often wandered in to use the phone or to look through his extensive collection of textbooks and journals.

  The professor’s office had two doors. One accessed the write-up area and the other led into the main research laboratory.

  Ruby entered through the door from the write-up area and was momentarily puzzled to find the office empty.

  Then she saw Professor Mike Clarkson’s legs poking out from behind the desk.

  70

  Ruby dropped to her knees beside Professor Clarkson’s motionless body.

  “Professor Clarkson? Are you okay?” Ruby felt for a pulse, put her head close to his mouth.

  He was breathing. Thank God.

  As she pulled her hand away from his head, she saw blood on her fingers. Blood seeped from a cut on his scalp, staining the carpet.

  The empty champagne bottle left over from Donald’s viva celebration, lay broken next to the professor. There was blood along the base of the bottle.

  Ruby needed to get an ambulance; he was seriously hurt. She reached for the phone on Mike’s desk and noticed for the first time that the phone had been pulled to the edge of the desk, and the handset dangled over the edge, almost touching the floor.

  Perhaps the professor had been on the phone when he was attacked, or perhaps he tried to call for help before passing out.

  Ruby picked up the handset. There was no dial tone. She pressed the receiver down several times with no luck.

  There was no signal down here on her mobile. The basement was notoriously bad for mobile phone reception. She would have to leave him and get help.

  A sound from outside made her pause. What if the person who did this was still here?

  A sickening realisation dawned on her. The lights in the chemical biology department were triggered by motion. That meant there was movement in this office less than two minutes ago.

  The professor’s attacker might still be here.

  “Professor? Can you hear me? I am going to get help, okay? I’ll call an ambulance I’ll be back soon.”

  Ruby scrambled to her feet. As she reached the doorway to the main lab, her eyes widened at the sight in front of her.

  The glass wall looking into the laboratory was red. It took her brain a moment or two to process. Was it blood? She inched closer to the laboratory.

  It couldn’t be blood. There was too much of it and it was too red.

  She couldn’t see clearly into the lab, so she didn’t know if anyone was in there. She stood shaking, watching the red liquid streak down the glass and drip into a pool on the floor.

  The solvent smell gave it away. Paint.

  Only paint. She needed to get help for Professor Clarkson now.

  Ruby set off at a run down the corridor. Her feet slammed against the tiled floor. The white walls crowded around her, and the bright fluorescent lighting flickered on as she ran forward.

  Her mind was racing, trying to work out what had happened. At this time of night, most of the other doors were locked, so the only entrance or exit from the lab would be the one in front of Mike’s office.

  He must have disturbed someone.

  Ruby paused briefly near the next office. She could try the phone in there, but if all the phone lines in the building were down, she would just be wasting time. She started to run again. She had to get help and the security office would be her best chance.

  Careering around the next corner, she collided into a man’s chest.

  She only managed to half-stifle a scream and kick out, before stumbling backwards and hitting the floor.

  She felt vice-like hands grip each of her arms and haul her to her feet.

  “Ruby?”

  The relief was enormous. Gus.

  Her legs were unsteady and threatened to give way from under her. She held out a hand to the wall, to steady herself.

  “It’s Professor Clarkson. He’s in his office, unconscious... bleeding... he’s been attacked.”

  Gus pulled out his mobile phone. “No signal. Jesus, okay you go back to him, I’ll go and get help.”

  “No,” Ruby said. “I don’t want to go back. There’s red stuff all over the lab. Paint, I think. I’ll go to security, and you go and stay with Professor Clarkson.”

  When Ruby returned with Jeff, the security guard, Professor Clarkson was still on the floor, but he was conscious and sitting against the wall. Dazed, he held his head in his hands.

  “The ambulance is on its way,” Ruby said, kneeling beside him. “Did someone hit you?”

  Gus answered for him. “He didn’t see anyone. Looks like they hit him with this though.” Gus picked up the champagne bottle.

  Jeff, the security guard, leapt forward, making Ruby jump. “Don’t touch it! That’s evidence.”

  Gus put the bottle back on the floor. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

  Ruby turned to look at Jeff. “Do you think this has anything to do with the break-in last week?”

  “Too right it does,” Jeff said, nodding his head. “This’ll be down to that animal rights lot, too. It is escalating violence. They could have killed him.”

  Professor Clarkson shook his head, wincing from the pain. “We don’t know that. I didn’t see anyone.”

  Jeff snorted. “Well, the bottle didn’t manage to clobber you on its own, did it?”

  Professor Clarkson groaned and leaned back against the wall. “That is the last time I buy a bottle of champagne for someone after their viva.”

  “Hey, don’t say that. I haven’t had mine yet,” Ruby said.

  Professor Clarkson managed a weak smile.

  “I think I can hear the ambulance. I’ll go upstairs to meet them,” Jeff said.

  After the ambulance had driven off with Professor Clarkson safely ensconced in the back, Ruby called DC Brown’s number on her mobile.

  This was no hoax and she was scared.

  71

  Professor Clarkson looked grey all over. His face was waxy and ash-tinged, matching the silver streaks in his hair.

  “How are you feeling now?” Mackinnon pulled up a chair to Professor Clarkson’s bedside.

  “Not the best. I take it this isn’t a social call?” Professor Clarkson flinched as if each word caused him pain.

  “The doctor said we could speak to you, for a few minutes. But if you’d rather we left?” Charlotte said.

  Mackinnon glared at Charlotte. He didn’t want to give Professor Clarkson the option of sending them away.

  “Won’t take long,” Mackinnon said and motioned for Charlotte to sit down. She pulled a chair over so she could sit on the opposite side of the professor’s bed.

  “Well, I still feel pretty lousy,” Professor Clarkson said.

  “Sure, it was quite a whack y
ou took. What do you remember?”

  “Not much.” Professor Clarkson frowned. “I had to go back to the office to pick up some papers.” He touched the side of his head with his fingertips. “I didn’t see who did it.”

  “Did you hear anything? Or notice anything unusual beforehand?” Mackinnon asked.

  “No, not a thing.” Clarkson looked at Mackinnon. “You know that bottle that clobbered me?

  Mackinnon nodded.

  “I bloody paid for that bottle – champagne to celebrate Donald passing his viva exam. Lesson against generosity, eh?” Clarkson said. “It’s like that stupid game, Cluedo. Professor Clarkson in the lab with a champagne bottle. Never did like that game.”

  Mackinnon grinned.

  “Was anyone else around? Or was anyone else working late last night?” Charlotte asked.

  Clarkson hesitated. “I did see Gus. We spoke, briefly.”

  “Did you argue?” Mackinnon asked.

  “No, of course not.” Clarkson shook his head vigorously then flinched. “He didn’t hit me, but I think you need to have a word with him.”

  Mackinnon frowned. “What about?”

  “He’ll tell you. It’ll be better if he tells you himself.”

  “Professor, it would be a lot easier if you would just tell us now.”

  “He told me something in confidence. I won’t betray his trust. But he did promise me he would speak to the police,” Clarkson said and his eyes closed for a few seconds.

  “We don’t have time for games,” Mackinnon said. “We need to find out who did this. If it was Gus, it will be better in the long run if you tell us now.”

  “It wasn’t Gus.” Clarkson’s head lolled back onto the pillow. “He didn’t do it. Trust me, I wouldn’t be protecting the person who did this.” He pointed to his bandaged head.

  “If you didn’t see who did it, how do you know it wasn’t Gus?” Mackinnon asked.

  Clarkson rubbed his eyes. “I’m too tired to keep going around in circles like this. Just go and speak to him yourselves.” He closed his eyes.

  They left the professor’s room and saw Ruby sitting outside on a plastic chair in the corridor, looking down at her knees.

  “If you get the car, I’ll have a quick word with her.” Charlotte nodded in Ruby’s direction.

  Mackinnon nodded. “I’ll call when I’m outside.”

  Charlotte walked over to Ruby, and Ruby looked up, hearing her approach. Charlotte smiled, “Ruby, have you been here all night?”

  “I wanted to make sure he was okay, and to be honest, I didn’t really feel like going home on my own.”

  Charlotte nodded. Ruby lived alone and Charlotte could understand why she wouldn’t want to go home by herself after finding Professor Clarkson like that.

  “Do you know who did it?” Ruby asked.

  Charlotte shook her head. “Not yet I’m afraid, did you see anyone?”

  Ruby sighed. “Only Gus and that was afterwards.”

  “Why were you there so late?”

  Ruby hesitated, her fingers played with a button on her coat. “I was looking through my chemical stocks.”

  “Funny thing to do at one in the morning?”

  Ruby didn’t answer and Charlotte felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

  72

  Gus opened the door to Mackinnon and Charlotte.

  “I thought you’d be coming round,” Gus said.

  Gus’ mother’s voice floated through from the kitchen. “Who is it, love?”

  “It’s all right, Mum, it’s for me,” said Gus, ushering them into the lounge and shutting the door.

  The room was immaculate. Gus motioned for them to sit down as he sat on the arm of one of the armchairs.

  “Apparently, you have something to tell us, Gus,” Mackinnon said.

  Gus looked at the floor. His hands were shaking. He crossed his arms and tucked his hands underneath his armpits. Before he could answer, his mother opened the door to the living room and poked her head in. “Oh, hello again. Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee?”

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Gilmore. We’ve just come for a quick word with Gus.”

  Gus got up and walked to the door. “Mum, we’re going to need a few minutes of privacy, okay?”

  As she retreated to the kitchen, he closed the door firmly behind her.

  Gus returned to his seat. “So you have spoken to Professor Clarkson?”

  Mackinnon nodded.

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Did you hit him, Gus?”

  Gus got to his feet “What! No, of course not. I’d never do that.”

  Mackinnon shook his head. “This is becoming pretty tedious now. Can you please just spit out whatever it is you’ve got to say.”

  Gus sat back down. His right knee bounced up and down in a nervous rhythm. “It’s about the cards, the entry swipe cards. Ruby told me you noticed a discrepancy with her entry times.” Gus stood and dug around in his back pocket, pulling out his wallet, and from that, he took out a dark blue card and handed it to Mackinnon.

  “It’s a Tesco’s club card?” said Mackinnon, confused, turning the card over in his hands.

  “Yes, only it’s been programmed as an access card, too. A copy of Ruby’s card, actually.”

  “How did you do that?”

  “I didn’t. I mean it is old, six months or more. It was just after the new entry system had been set up. Everyone kept forgetting their cards, they weren’t used to carrying them, I guess; and the receptionist would just program any card you had on you, so long as it had a magnetic strip.”

  The card triggered Charlotte’s memory. The old man in the biochemistry lift had used a supermarket points card, too. How many more of them were using cloned cards?

  “So you cloned Ruby’s card,” Mackinnon said.

  “No. Ruby got Mary at reception to do it for her one day when she left hers at home. Then, when I misplaced mine a few weeks later, she let me use it. It costs five pounds to get a new one and I was sure mine would turn up, eventually.”

  “Why didn’t Ruby mention this?”

  “She had probably forgotten about it, or maybe she just didn’t think it was relevant.”

  “Or perhaps she was protecting you?” Mackinnon said.

  Gus was silent.

  Charlotte shook her head. “This is ridiculous. What is the point in having this type of secured access if you just make extra cards that anyone could get hold of?”

  “They were only made for people in the department,” Gus said. “We weren’t the only ones. I saw one of the professors swipe in with his gold credit card once.”

  Mackinnon got to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. “So you’re telling me anyone could have a card?”

  “No. The receptionist would only make you one copy.”

  Mackinnon turned to Charlotte. “This means Gus has been lying to us all along. He was in the lab around the time of the break-in.”

  “Why did you lie? And why make your mother lie for you?” Charlotte asked.

  Gus looked towards the door. “Because she thought I was here. I only went to the lab for about five minutes and I didn’t see anything, so I thought, why make things more complicated?”

  Mackinnon narrowed his eyes. “I’m not convinced, Gus, you’ll have to do better.”

  Gus spread his arms. “What was the point in saying anything? She’d already said I was at home. It was easier to go along with it. And I didn’t see anything anyway, so I didn’t see the point in telling you I was there. She worries about me enough as it is.”

  Mackinnon walked over to the mantelpiece. “So how did you get out again without it being logged?”

  Gus nodded. “Yeah, I thought about that and I remembered I followed Roger Tully out. I didn’t swipe the card when I left. I followed him through the door after he opened it with his card.”

  Mackinnon nodded slowly and picked up one of the framed photos from the mantelpiece. “Why does your mum worry about you
so much, Gus?”

  “Just a typical mother, I suppose.”

  There was a soft knock at the door and Linda Gilmore walked in, smiling, carrying a tea tray. “Now, I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I was having one myself and...” She stopped speaking when she saw Mackinnon by the mantelpiece, holding the framed photograph.

  Mackinnon replaced the photograph and moved quickly to help her with the tray. “That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Gilmore.”

  As he put the tray on the coffee table, Mackinnon caught Gus staring at him. He was shocked to see Gus’ eyes full of anger.

  As Linda clearly had no intention of giving them anymore privacy, the four of them drank their tea in strained silence.

  *

  Charlotte leaned forward in the passenger seat of Mackinnon’s Volvo and turned the volume down. “Not Elvis again, please. You must have something else.” She rifled through his CD collection, looking unimpressed.

  “Seems a bit hen-pecked, doesn’t he? I mean someone his age living with his mum. Good looking lad, too, not your usual stay-at-home type,” Charlotte said.

  Mackinnon delved into his pocket for a Rennie. “He’s only twenty-three. Maybe he can’t afford to move out.”

  “He could live in student digs.”

  “Maybe he feels obliged to stay home,” Mackinnon said.

  “Why would he? Because it’s just him and his mum, you mean?”

  “Seems that way now, but that photo on the mantelpiece...” Mackinnon shook his head. “I would bet money that was a family photo. Mother, father, Gus and another boy, possibly his brother.”

  “Could be other relatives, not necessarily the father or brother?”

  “Maybe. There are undercurrents of something in that house. I just can’t quite work out what it is all about.”

  73

  Ruby Wei took a taxi from the Radcliffe to the Oxford Science Park. It was expensive, but she needed to talk to Dr. O’Connor and getting there by bus would take too long.