Chapter 9
Saffron decided not to go to the university that morning, not because she didn’t feel fully recovered yet, but because she was sure she’d go to pieces again on seeing Dr. Maxwell’s ransacked office. Avoiding Alexander was another benefit.
While the radio cranked out ballads and important-sounding voices recited important-sounding news, Saffron sat at the desk in the sitting room and wrote letters to her mother, grandmother, and cousin John.
Her mother heard all about the dramatic poisoning at the party and Saffron’s speaking to the police.
Her grandmother heard all about the party, the importance of which was exaggerated for her grandmother’s benefit.
Neither of her grandparents were the least concerned about her work, apart from disapproving that she was working.
Their relationship was, at times, precarious, communications having only just reopened in the last year, when Saffron graduated.
They would perhaps be gratified to hear she’d dined with the Leisters.
To her cousin John, whom she’d always been close to, as she had no siblings, she wrote about it all: the party, the police, the poisoning—though not the self-administered kind—and Alexander Ashton.
John would appreciate her showing an interest in something other than plants for once.
A knock on the door right after lunch interrupted her just as she was affixing postage to the envelopes.
Saffron peered through the viewer. Her stomach twisted at the sight of Detective Inspector Green.
She let the inspector and Sergeant Simpson inside.
They declined the tea and stood awkwardly in the sitting room until Saffron requested they make themselves comfortable.
Watery afternoon light illuminated the space filled with books and magazines, all neatly in place after Elizabeth’s most recent cleaning.
Inspector Green, sitting in an armchair, looked just as bland as she remembered, with his plain, dark brown suit and his unremarkable brown hair and eyes.
The sergeant took up his usual position by the door, his rosy cheeks and fair hair almost comical beneath his domed helmet.
Saffron settled onto the couch opposite the inspector. She attempted to leave her unease out of her voice as she said, “How can I help you, Inspector?”
“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re feeling unwell, Miss Everleigh,” the inspector began, “but I had an interesting conversation this morning that I wanted to hear your opinion on. One of my sergeants came to me with news that Dr. Maxwell’s niece came to see him, and they had discussed, among other things, a bird with a foreign-sounding name.
” His eyebrows lifted slightly. Saffron’s heart began to pound, but she arranged her face to look politely interested.
“This niece was described as young, dark haired, and slim. Dressed in blue. I believe you wore a blue dress when I saw you at the university yesterday morning.”
“It is a common enough color, Inspector. I would think your wife owns several blue dresses herself.” Saffron held his gaze while waiting for him to pass judgment. She was quite sure she’d done nothing illegal, even if definitely dishonest.
After a long time, Inspector Green frowned and said, “I believe you took up the guise of a concerned niece. Seems to me that either you are trying to cover up your crime or assist someone in the completion of the business.”
Her eyes opened wide. “The completion of the business? Would that be finishing off the Henrys?”
The inspector shrugged. “As you say.”
She glared at him. Finishing off a woman she hadn’t even spoken to! “Inspector Green, I don’t know Mrs. Henry. I don’t work with Dr. Henry or know either of them personally. What motive would I have to harm his wife?”
“That is what I am trying to discover.”
Saffron opened her mouth and then closed it.
She thought furiously, but nothing helpful came to mind.
He’d hardly believe she was trying to discover the truth.
She could give him the xolotl notes now, but the tone of the conversation was distinctly hostile, and she didn’t think it would be at all well received.
Her suspicion was confirmed a moment later when the inspector spoke again.
“I’m given to understand that Dr. Henry has a fondness for young ladies.” The inspector stood from the armchair and walked a few paces, his steps muffled on the cream-colored carpet. From the mantle, he said, “Perhaps he caught your eye, and Mrs. Henry was in the way.”
Saffron nearly laughed but caught herself. No man, however handsome or charming, was worth that much trouble. Dr. Henry, a renowned flirt and philanderer, would be at the bottom of Saffron’s list, right next to Dr. Berking and his like.
“I can see you’re amused by my theory. Let me try another one.
” The inspector’s eyes bore into hers. “A research assistant, hard-working and intelligent, goes to work in a department where her value is boiled down to her good looks, and her acceptance is predicated on her father’s reputation.
” Saffron bridled at those words but kept her mouth shut.
“A professor takes her under his wing, a man she grew up knowing and admiring, and gives her opportunities that others won’t.
Another professor, a bit of a brute, puts her down and harasses her.
Rumors are spread, the kind that would end her young career.
” Saffron’s stomach lurched. The inspector’s voice droned on smoothly, weaving his sordid tale.
“The assistant goes to her champion. The professor has just been dealt a blow to his ego—he isn’t to go on the impending international expedition, the opportunity he needed to make his research relevant again.
They are angry. They hatch a plan to eliminate both offending men in one blow, using a toxin they have on hand that is unidentifiable to anyone but them. ”
In the silence that followed, Saffron struggled to analyze the theory as justly as she could, having just been accused of plotting murders. “That’s very good, Inspector, right up until the end. Am I correct in assuming that you’re suggesting Dr. Maxwell and I attempted to poison Dr. Henry?”
“Are you refuting it?”
Saffron’s brow pinched together at the careful tone.
Her eyes wandered to the stack of letters on the desk.
What would Inspector Green do if she telephoned her mother or grandfather and asked for them to send one of their solicitors?
Her grandfather would likely make it impossible for her to stay in London, as he’d threatened to do countless times.
This time, when faced with his granddaughter being accused of attempted murder, he would almost certainly follow through.
She’d better find a way out of this herself.
She drew herself up and said calmly, “I don’t think I need to, but I shall now. A simple evaluation of facts will prove your theory incorrect.”
Simpson shifted behind her, and Inspector Green lifted an eyebrow. “Indeed?”
Saffron saw the same idle doubt on the inspector’s face as she’d contended with a hundred times.
She could handle it again. “When did I place poison in the glass? I was far across the table from both of the Henrys during dinner. During the first go-round of champagne glasses, I was in the hall with Mr. Ashton, accidentally overhearing the conversation between Mrs. Henry and Lady Agatha, which I reported to you. I had no opportunity to touch either of their glasses, as when we returned the toast was already being made. Later, I came to say goodnight to the Leisters after they had already poured their champagne and the glasses were in their hands, apart from Mrs. Henry, who was handed her glass as I attempted to speak to Lady Agatha. Others can vouch for my being far from Mrs. Henry and the champagne. Dr. Maxwell was nowhere near Mrs. Henry for the entire evening either, nor did he interact with Dr. Henry, to my knowledge. Furthermore, I have never been in Dr. Henry’s office or his home.
I daresay you and your colleagues have taken up using fingerprints.
I’m happy to provide you a set of mine, and you may check it against those found on Mrs. Henry’s glass.
Finally, I fail to see how the professor who you say harassed me plays into it at all. ”
Inspector Green sidestepped her. “You claim that you were in the hallway with Mr. Ashton while the first round of champagne glasses were passed around.”
“Mr. Ashton can confirm it,” Saffron replied confidently.
“The trouble is, Miss Everleigh, that your relationship with Mr. Ashton is such that he could say whatever suited the situation to ensure your alibi.”
“My relationship with him? We’re colleagues. We work in the same building.”
“You were seen with him at the party.”
“We were introduced at the party. And as I’ve said, we’re colleagues. It is natural to converse with one’s coworkers,” Saffron said, working hard to conceal the anger she felt. Gossip seemed to follow her everywhere she went!
The inspector cocked an eyebrow. “In a dark hallway, for example? Seems an odd place to converse with a man you met that evening. You must have become very fast friends, to have been seen around campus and each other’s offices so often.”
From behind her, Simpson made a noise like a stifled laugh. Inspector Green shot a quelling look over her shoulder.
Saffron tried to restrain her indignation, her hands clutching together in her lap.
“As I said, we work together. We just began collaborating on the work for the expedition. Mr. Ashton is my department’s representative, as botany sits under biology.
Dr. Maxwell’s tasks for the expedition have been assigned to Mr. Ashton, and they require preparation, research.
As you have detained Dr. Maxwell,” she added with a glare, “I have to do more to assist Mr. Ashton.”
“As you say,” Inspector Green demurred.
Unsatisfied, Saffron continued. “I still fail to see the relevance of my unfortunate experience with the professor.”
Without blinking, Inspector Green said, “Dr. Maxwell threatened Dr. Berking when he heard of Dr. Berking’s behavior toward you on the sixteenth of March.”
Shock rolled through her, followed by a warm glow of gratitude.
Saffron doubted Dr. Maxwell would seriously threaten anything apart from an insect eating his exotic specimens, but that he would pit himself against Berking on her behalf was enough to make her willing to drink down xolotl for him all over again.
“According to who?” she asked, determined to bolster Maxwell’s defense. “Dr. Berking? He can hardly be trusted to report accurately.”
“That may be true, but we have alternate sources to confirm it,” said the inspector as he stood. “I must ask you to stay in London for the duration of the investigation. Thank you for your time, Miss Everleigh.”
Closing the door after the policemen, her anxiety rose. Why did the inspector think her capable of murder? What did he know about her—or rather, what had people said about her?
It seemed as if she’d only managed to get herself in more trouble. Now, it looked like she was under just as much suspicion as Dr. Maxwell.