water she was drinking from.’
‘Okay.’ Kathy called over one of the SOCOs and passed this on. ‘Now, what about Emily? Do you know where she is?’
‘She said she was going back home. We’d spent the morning helping Tina with her researches, and I said I’d buy them both lunch before she left.’
‘You weren’t aware of anyone watching you this morning?’
‘Good heavens, no. Is that what you think, that he was watching us all the time?’
‘I just don’t know, Donald. Do you have a mobile number for Emily?’
‘Yes… here.’
Kathy tried it, but got through to a recorded voice inviting her to leave a message. She asked Emily to get back to her as soon as possible.
‘Do you feel all right, Donald?’ she asked. ‘No nausea, stomach pains?’
‘No, nothing.’
‘We’ll get a medic to have a look at you. And Emily seemed okay when she left?’
‘Perfectly.’
‘How long ago was that?’
Donald looked at his watch. ‘About an hour and a half ago. I should go to the hospital to be with Tina. She has no family in London.’
‘We’ll go together. I’ve just got a couple of things to do. Why don’t you take a seat over there and see if you can remember anything else?’
She went back and had another word with Brock, then rang Sundeep Mehta’s number at the mortuary, knowing he wouldn’t answer his mobile if he was working on an autopsy. After a moment he came to the phone. She told him what had happened and heard his sharp intake of breath.
‘Where is she, Kathy?’
‘UCH.’
‘I’ll get over there straight away.’
Kathy dug in her pocket for her notebook and found Sophie Warrender’s number. The phone was answered by her secretary Rhonda, who sounded almost as if she were expecting Kathy’s call. She put her through, and the now familiar voice said stiffly, ‘Sophie Warrender here. What do you want?’
‘I’m trying to contact your daughter Emily, Mrs Warrender. Do you know…?’
‘Yes, she said you’d tried to ring her. I told her not to respond. I’ve spoken to your superior, and neither I nor any of my family have anything to say to you.’
‘She’s safely at home, then, is she?’
‘Safely? What are you talking about?’
‘There’s been an incident, this time at the British Library, around the time Emily was there today. I wanted to make sure she was all right.’
‘Incident?’
‘Another poisoning. Are you sure that Emily isn’t showing any signs of nausea or stomach ache?’
‘My God! I’ll get her to a doctor straight away.’
‘Good idea. Then I’ll need to come over to speak to her. It is very important.’
Kathy returned to Donald Fotheringham, sitting beneath the statue of Isaac Newton in the centre of the forecourt, like a spindly caricature of the massive bronze that loomed above him, both crouching forward on their seats, brooding on their problems. A paramedic was packing a bag at his feet and nodded to Kathy as she came over, saying that Donald was in the clear.
She led him to the car waiting outside on Euston Road, and they drove the short distance to the new blocks of University College Hospital. At the accident and emergency department they were told that Tina was in a coma, and they took a seat in a quiet corner to wait.
‘You said you were going to speak to Bessie about a wealthy relative leaving Marion some money,’ Kathy said.
‘Oh aye, I asked her. As I thought, she’d never heard of such a thing. That really doesn’t ring true, Kathy-is it all right if I call you that?’
‘Sure.’
‘Well, Bessie’s theory, and mine too if I’m honest, is that Marion had found a sugar daddy. She was a bonny lass, no doubt about it.’
‘Yes, you’re probably right. A sugar daddy who wants to remain anonymous.’
‘Aye, well, Tina had her own ideas about that.’
‘Go on.’
Donald Fotheringham hesitated, seeming torn between an innate love of gossip and a deadly sense of rectitude. ‘She seemed to have the idea that Marion’s tutor, Dr da Silva, was the fly in the ointment.’
‘Really. Did she have any evidence of that?’
‘I couldn’t say.’
‘So what was this work you were doing? You said you were following up Marion’s borrowing list.’
‘Aye, that’s right. Tina was convinced there was something hidden there that would lead her to Marion’s killer.’
‘But how? Did she give you any idea?’
‘No, she said I had to keep an open mind. I must say it all seemed a bit far-fetched to me. How could Marion’s studies of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood cause any problems today?’
He took a notepad from his jacket pocket. ‘This was our most recent topic.’ He showed her a heading in capitals, underlined, followed by a string of references and notes: India Office Records -GENERAL SIR HENRY HAVELOCK ARCHIVE.
Kathy stared at the title. ‘Who’s he?’
‘The hero of Lucknow, do you no’ remember your history?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘He was a great man, took part in the First Afghan War, then commanded a division in the Anglo-Persian War and returned to India in time for the Mutiny, where he relieved the siege of Lucknow and promptly died. There’s a statue of him in Trafalgar Square, which that wee leftie Ken Livingstone wanted rid of. Do you no’ remember?’
‘What did he die of?’
Donald consulted his notes. ‘Dysentery, on the twenty-ninth of November, 1857.’
The year Madeleine Smith was tried for murder, Kathy thought, but what was the connection? Something tugged at her memory.
‘What does this have to do with the Pre-Raphaelites, Donald, do you know?’
‘That’s what we were trying to find out. Marion had studied this archive, apparently, but Tina didn’t know why. She wanted us to go through every item. It was a collection of documents donated by the Havelock family to the library, apparently.’
Then Kathy remembered one of the names on Marion’s list of key words: H. Haverlock. Of course, that’s why the name was familiar; the witness at Madeleine Smith’s wedding to George Wardle, although his name was spelled slightly differently from that of the soldier. Was that the connection?
Kathy looked up to see Sundeep pushing through the door from the ward. He came over as she rose to her feet.
‘It’s arsenic all right,’ he said. ‘Just what I feared, a serial poisoner. Is it the libraries? Is that the connection? Dear God, you’ll have to close every library in the city. There’ll be panic.’
‘Maybe not, Sundeep. Tina was a friend of Marion’s, a fellow student. That’s more likely the connection. How is she doing?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t think she’s going to make it. The next hour will be critical, but even if she survives, they’ll keep her in a coma for a further twelve hours at least, so there’s nothing we can do here. They’ll let us know if there’s any change.’ He wiped a hand across his face. ‘I was going to phone you, about the audit at the university laboratory. We’re still checking some of the details, but it looks pretty clear that their security is tight. The only lapse we’ve found concerns Dr Ringland. Every time one of the experimenters withdraws a dangerous chemical from the store they have to get their order countersigned by Dr Ringland or his deputy. But the heaviest
