apparent soon enough. He had a very shaky alibi, claiming he was working alone in one of the laboratories in the Leighfield chemistry block.
‘Number eighteen,’ he said. ‘That’s on the second floor.’
‘And nobody saw you there?’ Gareth Alan Pitchford asked, a strong note of scepticism in his voice.
‘It was quarter to eleven at night. Nobody else is running long-duration experiments in there right now. I was alone.’
‘What time did you get back to your rooms?’
‘About midnight. The college lodgekeepers can confirm that for you.’
‘I’m sure they will. How did you get back from the laboratory to the college?’
‘I walked. I always do unless the weather is really foul. It gives me the opportunity to think.’
‘And you saw no one while you were walking?’
‘Of course I saw people. But I don’t know who any of them were. Strangers on a street going home to bed. Look, you can ask my professor about this. He might be able to confirm I was there when I said I was.’
‘How so?’
‘We’re running a series of carbon accumulators, they have to be adjusted in a very specific way, and we built that equipment ourselves. There are only five people in the world who’d know what to do. If he looks at it in the morning he’ll see the adjustments were made.’
‘I’d better have a word with him, then, hadn’t I?’ the detective said. He scrawled a short note on his pad. ‘I’ve asked all your friends this question, and got the same answer each time. Do you know if Justin had any enemies?’
‘He didn’t. Not one.’
There was silence in the interview room after he left. All of us were reflecting on his blatant nerves, and his non-existent alibi. I kept thinking it was too obvious for him to have done it. Of course not all the suspects would have alibis: they didn’t part after their dinner believing they’d need one. Ask me what I was doing every night this past week, and I’d be hard pressed to find witnesses.
Christine Jayne Lockett bustled into the interview room. I say bustled because she had the fussy motions that put me in mind of some formidable maiden aunt. When she came into a room everyone knew it. When she spoke, she had the tone and volume which forced everyone to listen. She was also quite attractive, keeping her long hair in a high style. Older than the others, in her mid-twenties, which gave her a certain
‘And it started out as such a beautiful day,’ she said wistfully as she settled herself in the chair. Several necklaces chinked and clattered at the motion, gold pagan charms and crucifixes jostling against each other. She put a small poetry book on the table. ‘Do you have any idea who did it, yet?’
‘Not as such,’ Gareth Alan Pitchford said.
‘So you have to ask me if I do. Well I’m afraid I have no idea. This whole thing is so incredible. Who on earth would want to kill poor Justin? He was a wonderful man, simply wonderful. All of my friends are. That’s why I love them, despite their faults. Or perhaps because of them.’
‘Faults?’
‘They’re young. They’re shallow. They have too many opinions. They’re easily hurt. Who could resist the company of such angels?’
‘Tell me about Justin. What faults did he have?’
‘Hubris, of course. He always thought he was right. I think that’s why dear Bethany loved him so much. That First Era saying: “differences unite”. Not true. She’s a strong-willed girl as well. How could a strong person ever be attracted to a weak one — tell me that. They were so lucky to have found each other. Nobody else could win her heart, not for lack of trying you understand.’
‘Really?’ Gareth Alan Pitchford couldn’t shade the interest in his voice. ‘She had admirers?’
‘You’ve seen her. She’s gorgeous. A young woman of beauty, complemented by a fiercely sharp mind. Of course she had admirers, by the herd.’
‘Do you have names?’
‘Men would ask to buy her a drink every time we went into a tavern. But if you mean persistent ones, ones that she knew… Alexander and Carter were both jealous of Justin. They’d both asked her out before she and Justin became lovers. It always surprised me that they managed to remain friends. A man’s ego is such a weak appendage, don’t you think?’
‘I’m sure. Did this jealousy last? Were either of them still pursuing her?’
‘Not actively. We were all friends, in the end. And nothing I saw, no wistful gazes, no pangs of lust, would cause this. I do know my friends, Detective Pitchford, and they are not capable of murder. Not like this.’
‘Who is, then?’
‘I have no idea. Somebody from the First Imperial Era? One might still be alive.’
‘If so, I’ve not heard of them, but I’ll enquire. Do you know if Justin had antagonized anyone? Not necessarily recently,’ he added, ‘but at any time since you knew him.’
‘His self-confidence put a lot of people off. But then all of us have that quality. It’s not a characteristic which drives someone to murder.’
‘Mr Kenyon claims he was with you after the dinner at the Orange Grove. Is this true?’
‘Perfectly true. We went back to my apartment. It was after ten, and baby-sitters are devilishly expensive in this city.’
‘The baby-sitter can confirm this?’
‘Your officers already took her statement. We arrived back at about quarter past ten.’
‘And after that? You were together for the rest of the night?’
‘Right up until Carter got the phone call, yes. We drank some wine, I showed him my latest piece. We talked. Not for long, mind you. We hadn’t even got to bed before he dashed off.’ Her fingers stroked at the book’s leather cover. ‘What a dreadful, dreadful day.’
Gareth Alan Pitchford glanced round at all of us after Christine left, his expression troubled. It was as if he was seeking our permission for the interview we all knew couldn’t be avoided. Neill Heller Caesar finally inclined his head a degree.
Bethany Maria Caesar had regained some composure since I saw her in Justin’s rooms. She was no longer crying, and her hair had been tidied up. Nothing could be done about her pallor, nor the defeated slump of her shoulders. A sorrowful sight in one so young and vibrant.
Neill Heller Caesar hurriedly offered her a chair, only just beating me to it. She gave him a meek smile and lowered herself with gentle awkwardness, as if her body weighed more than usual.
‘I apologize for having to bring you in here, Miss Caesar,’ the detective said. ‘I’ll be as brief as possible. We just have a few questions. Formalities.’
‘I understand.’ She smiled bravely.
‘Where were you at ten thirty this evening?’
‘I’d gone back to my rooms at Uffington after the meal. There was some lab work which I needed to type up.’
‘Lab work?’
‘I’m taking biochemistry. It’s a busy subject right now, so much is opening up to us. It won’t be long now before we understand the genetic molecule; that’s the heart of life itself. Oh. I’m sorry. I’m rambling. It just takes my thought away from…’
This time I was the one who chivalrously offered a glass of water. She took it gratefully, a small flustered smile touching her lips. ‘Thank you. I suppose I must have got to Uffers just after ten. The lodgekeepers should be able to tell you the exact time. They sign us in at night.’
‘Of course. Now what about Justin? You were closest to him, did you know if he was embroiled in any kind of antagonism with someone? Some wild incident? A grudge that wouldn’t go away?’
‘If you’d ever met Justin you wouldn’t have to ask that. But no… he hadn’t annoyed anyone. He wasn’t the type; he was quiet and loved his subject. Not that we were hermits. We went out to parties, and he played a few games for the college, but not at any level which counted. But we were going to make up for all that time apart after…’ She tugged a handkerchief out of her sleeve and pressed it against her face. Tears leaked out of tightly
