Chapter 18
Saffron hurried along the hallway, heels clacking as she passed researchers from the meeting chatting in the hall. She needed to type up the notes for Dr. Henry, but more than that, she needed to plan what she was going to say to him.
A frisson of nerves slid down her spine at the prospect—he could have tried to kill his own wife.
But she would be careful. A few questions about his wife being in hospital would be a natural lead into more serious questions.
She could always plead curiosity, since she obviously had nothing to do with the Henrys or the expedition funds.
At the bottom of the stairs, Saffron looked about the hall, hoping to see Alexander amid the students milling around.
She needed to get his advice about how to handle Dr. Henry.
Instead of Alexander, she saw Dr. Berking’s hulking figure making his way through the door at the far end of the hall, Mr. Blake behind him.
Caught between impatience to question Dr. Henry and the desire to know what Berking and Blake were talking about, she found her feet moving toward the retreating backs of the two men.
They were already almost to the racquetball courts to the north of the building when Saffron exited the hall, but Saffron could hear Berking’s loud voice echoing across the green.
“Why announce it to the whole bloody group then?”
Blake must have made a reply, because Berking shook his head and said, “No, no, you’re right.”
They turned into the door leading into the Wilkins Building and began up the stairs.
Saffron waited until they’d reached the first landing before she followed.
She hadn’t heard a word Blake said, his voice was too quiet, but Berking’s side of the conversation sounded promising.
They were at least discussing Dr. Henry.
“This should have been cleared up days ago,” Berking growled. “Getting close to the departure …”
Saffron crept up the deserted stairs after Berking’s voice faded.
There would be more students to disguise her following them in the main halls, so she dashed up the remaining steps and promptly ran into someone standing at the landing.
She dropped her bag, sending her pen, pencils, powder compact, keys, and notebook scattering across the black and white tiles.
“Oh, excuse me,” said Richard Blake, his low voice cool and even.
“I’m so sorry!” Saffron gasped, her voice high with dismay. Her eyes darted around, looking for where Berking might be lying in wait, but saw no one.
Blake stooped to help her pick up her things. He handed her pencils and her notebook, pausing to look at her as she placed them into her bag. “You were at the expedition meeting, weren’t you? Just now.”
“Yes, I was taking notes for Harry Snyder. I just …” Considering she had smashed into him in an otherwise lonely stairwell, she needed a reason to be following him. “I saw that you were there, Mr. Blake, and er, wanted to speak to you.”
He raised his brows in polite expectation and they rose to their feet. “I see. How may I assist you?”
“I wanted to ask you about, er …” Saffron cast around for something benign and landed on the photographs she’d passed by with Alexander earlier. “My father.”
Blake’s lips tipped up in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes were blue, she noticed, but rather a watery blue. “Your father?”
Saffron cleared her throat and nodded, her idea forming quickly. “You see, my father was a professor here and died in the war almost five years ago and I’d been thinking that perhaps my family might want to make a contribution in his honor.”
“I see,” Blake replied.
His eyes flickered down her body, though not in the way she’d become used to. She realized that he was looking at the dust clinging to her skirt. Nervously, she brushed at it.
“Could I set up an appointment, perhaps? I can telephone my mother and grandparents this evening to get more specifics.”
Blake nodded. “Of course. Best to have one’s information prepared upfront, that way there is no delay in honoring your late father. Simply contact my secretary to find a time.”
Saffron smiled and nodded.
“May I ask his name?” he asked.
“Oh,” Saffron said, hitching her handbag farther up her arm. “Thomas Everleigh. He was a botany professor. I work in the department too.”
She thought she saw a flare of recognition in his eyes at the mention of her father’s name, though she couldn’t think of why his name would mean anything to Blake, especially as he wasn’t involved in the botany department apart from his apparent friendship with Berking.
Had he heard about the disagreement between her and Berking?
The thought made her teeth clench in a strained smile.
“Thomas Everleigh, my goodness,” Blake murmured with a slight smile. “I am sorry for your loss, Miss Everleigh. His heroic sacrifice does a credit to the Easting line. Well, we will ensure he is well remembered. Come to my office now, if you will, and we can get started.”
His disinterested tone soothed her concerns over Berking’s influence on him.
If she went with him now, she’d perhaps get to snoop inside his office.
But she also had no idea what she might say to him.
How could she ask if a crime had been committed right under his nose?
And she still had to prepare for Dr. Henry. One suspect at a time, she decided.
“I’m afraid I have some work to get done this afternoon,” Saffron said quickly.
Blake inclined his head. “I understand. If you please, come tomorrow, around two in the afternoon. I always make time for special bequests such as yours, Miss Everleigh.”
Saffron nodded and watched Blake walk away, disappearing around a corner in a rush of students exiting a classroom.
Flush with success, Saffron hurried off toward the North Wing. She had an appointment with yet another suspect.
Her feeling of victory was short lived. Like Dr. Aster’s note this morning, she found another tucked into the office door when she returned.
She read it through and, her hand holding the paper so tightly it tore in her fingers, she walked slowly to the top of the stairs and down the hall.
Full of dread, she entered Pierce’s office.
“Yes?” Pierce said from his desk, not looking up.
“Is Dr. Berking available, Mr. Pierce?” Saffron asked, holding up the torn note. “He wishes to speak with me.”
Pierce looked up and his near-black eyes immediately narrowed. With a sneer, he asked, “Do you have an appointment?”
Frowning at his odd question, she shook her head. Wasn’t he the one who’d left the note in her door?
With an exasperated air, Pierce went to the office door and called in to Berking.
A moment later, Saffron stepped into his office, hands shaking and heart pounding.
There were several reasons Berking might want to see her, but each one made her want to insist that the door stay open.
If he’d found out that she’d broken into his home, or even his office, he wouldn’t confront her now, comfortably sitting behind the same desk she’d hidden under, would he?
Dr. Berking’s vast face stretched into an unctuous smile that revealed nothing of his intentions as she passed through the door. She imagined him as a red-haired spider, waiting for a fly drawing ever closer to his web. Had she really thought she was no longer afraid of him?
“Why, hello,” he said with a leer. “You’re very smart not to leave me waiting today, Miss Everleigh. I’m an impatient man.”
Saffron’s lips trembled as she forced a polite smile on her face.
His grin widened as if he sensed her turmoil. “Why don’t you sit down?”
Saffron took a few steps forward to give the impression of compliance, though each step toward him made her stomach clench.
“Well, this is quite a turn of events, is it not? You must feel triumphant, I’m sure,” Berking said, his voice loud and jolly.
“I’m sorry?” Saffron inched another step forward.
“The study, my dear!” Berking leaned back in his chair, his smile fading slightly as Saffron blinked blankly at him. “Surely you remember. It was not even a month ago, when we had our little misunderstanding.”
Confusion stilled her steps. “My proposal?”
“Yes, my dear, for your study.” He chuckled.
“I’m afraid I might have misrepresented it to Dr. Henry at the meeting.
But it does include a few poisonous plants, does it not?
I looked back over the notes you left behind about comparing pigmentations of tropical plants.
Your study will round out our department’s docket nicely.
” A sly smile crept across his features.
“With Dr. Maxwell being unavailable for the foreseeable future, I thought you might want a chance to take the lead.”
Her mind was numb, shock blanketing all other thoughts. “Take the lead?”
Berking’s booming laugh jolted her. “Yes, my dear—your own study.”
“But sir,” Saffron stammered, her mind fixating on what was really a minor problem, “the expedition leaves in just two weeks. How can I—”
“You’ll have to get to work, Miss Everleigh, in order to make sure Mr. Ashton will be able to carry it out properly.
I understand you two have been working closely on Maxwell’s project.
I’m sure you won’t mind putting in a few extra hours.
” His smile turned malicious. “Come to me tomorrow evening with your final proposal, and be ready to explain it thoroughly. You’ll get your study if I’m pleased with what you have to offer. ”
The excitement that had begun to hum in her mind dropped off immediately. Her skin crawled. She forced out the words, “Thank you, Dr. Berking,” before turning around and leaving, practically running back to Dr. Maxwell’s office in a fog of confusion and concern.