the cover image on da Silva’s book. ‘Dante Gabriel Rossetti.’
Sophie sat up sharply. ‘Oh… my God.’
Kathy said, ‘What is it, Mrs Warrender?’
‘Well, it seems rather obvious, doesn’t it? Anthony da Silva is the leading world authority on Rossetti, and Marion was his student, with whom he often quarrelled about her theories and interpretations. Suppose she discovered something catastrophic about his research? It wouldn’t be the first time that the reputation of a leading researcher has been utterly destroyed, the academic world turned on its head, by a discovery-of plagiarism, say.’
The same thought had already occurred to Kathy, and she said, ‘Do you think Tina might have discovered something like that, Emily?’
‘It’s possible, I suppose. She didn’t tell me if she had.’
‘And how did she seem today?’
Emily frowned. ‘She wasn’t herself. Something was worrying her. The books she wanted weren’t available and she was very agitated. Donald and I tried to cheer her up, but she got angry.’ She wiped her eyes.
‘So,’ Sophie said, turning to Kathy. ‘What are you going to do now?’
‘I’d like to take Emily back to my office to look at photographs of some other people.’
‘And then what? I mean, she may be in danger too, don’t you think? In fact she could also have been an intended victim this lunchtime.’
‘I’ll make sure she gets back safely, and then it might be as well if she stays at home for a few days.’
Sophie reluctantly agreed to let her daughter go, and Kathy drove her back to Queen Anne’s Gate and sat her down with a cup of tea while she prepared a set of identification photos. Apart from Tony da Silva, which she confidently picked out, she hesitated over one other, Keith Rafferty, frowning, then shaking her head.
‘Maybe not,’ she said.
‘But a possible?’ Kathy prompted, trying to sound neutral. ‘Could you have seen him with Dr da Silva, for instance?’
Emily thought about that, then shook her head. ‘Sorry, no, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that he looks like every thug you’ve ever seen on the news.’
While she was there, Kathy drew up a statement summarising what Emily had said for her to sign, then arranged for a patrol car to take her back to Notting Hill. As it drew away Kathy saw Alex Nicholson step out of a cab and hurry towards her.
‘Brock phoned me with the news, Kathy,’ she said. ‘I came as soon as I could.’ twenty-one
T hey gathered in one of the smaller offices, with a window overlooking a small courtyard at the back of the building. ‘It’s quieter in here,’ Brock said. ‘We need to be able to think. There’s a mood of panic setting in. I have to decide whether we should close every library in the city.’
He described to Alex what they knew of the circumstances of Tina’s collapse and what they were now doing, gathering witness statements and camera material at the British Library and beginning interviews with all Tina’s friends and student acquaintances that they could trace. As Kathy was adding what Donald Fotheringham and Emily Warrender had told her, Dot put her head round the door and handed Brock a note in her neat script, which he read out. ‘Officer on duty at UCH reports Tina Flowers pronounced dead this afternoon at 1606. Autopsy first thing tomorrow.’
There was a moment’s heavy silence in the room. Outside the window, a light drizzle glistened on the mossy brick wall. Finally Alex spoke, her voice low.
‘You don’t have to close every library, Brock. Poisoners are the most organised of offenders, and there’s nothing random or erratic about this. The two women were specifically targeted in the most calculated way. Their killers went to great lengths and took great risks to kill them in just this way.’
‘Killers?’ Brock queried. ‘You don’t think they’re the same one?’
‘I think it’s possible that there’s more than one, operating together.’
Brock and Kathy looked at her in surprise. ‘Why?’
‘Both scenes were difficult to arrange. Think of the first-the set-up of apparent suicide arrangements in Marion’s kitchen could only be done after the killer was sure that Marion had swallowed the poisoned drink and it had taken effect, otherwise she might return and find it. So we have the killer in St James’s Square witnessing her collapse, then travelling six miles to Hampstead to improvise the kitchen scene, with very little time to spare. They couldn’t know if Marion might have her address in her wallet, allowing the police to go straight to Rosslyn Court. It would be much easier if there were two people, one in St James’s Square and one in Hampstead.
‘In Tina’s case the problem is different. It’s one thing to spike a girl’s drink in a crowded bar, and another to pour a lethal dose of arsenic into someone’s cup of coffee in front of the victim and surrounded by witnesses. Easier if there’s two involved, one to cause a distraction.’
Kathy said, ‘Rafferty and Crouch, they’re a double act. We’ve seen that at first hand.’ She told Alex about their experience with Pip.
Alex wasn’t so sure. ‘The classic profile for this kind of highly organised killer would be: intelligent, socially competent, an eldest child, in skilled work. But what’s the motive? My best advice is, follow the money trail that bought the house.’ She hesitated, then added, ‘If there is a killer.’
Again the other two stared at her.
‘Everything I just said,’ Alex went on, ‘assumes an outside agency. But the easiest way to explain the logistical difficulties of the crime scenes is if the girls did it themselves, a double suicide. Sundeep’s objection to Marion using dirty utensils may not be significant. She had recently lost a child, she was about to commit suicide, she was in turmoil, very disturbed.’
‘Not according to-’ Kathy began, then stopped.
‘Who?’
‘Tina.’
‘Exactly. They were close, weren’t they?’
Kathy nodded. ‘Tina told me that Marion had saved her life when she’d wanted to end it all.’
‘It sounds a cruel thing to say, but there’s an element of exhibitionism in both deaths, if you care to look at it that way-agonising deaths in full public view. About the most difficult thing to arrange, for anyone except the victim.’
They fell silent again, the rain steadier now. Then Alex added, ‘Doesn’t mean they didn’t get help, though. The arsenic had to come from somewhere.’
•
After the meeting broke up, Brock had to go over to the Scotland Yard building to brief senior officers about the public safety aspects of the case. As he gathered up his papers they agreed that Bren would concentrate on Rafferty and Crouch, and Kathy on the university connections. When she returned to her desk Kathy thought about Alex’s comments, then made a couple of calls regarding the Banque Foche in Geneva. Next she dialled the number on the Cornell University letterhead from Marion’s student mailbox, and got straight through to Dr Grace Pontius, who was perturbed when Kathy introduced herself.
‘Metropolitan Police?’ she said. ‘How can I help you?’
‘It concerns a letter that you sent to Marion Summers, dated the twenty-seventh of March. Do you recall it?’
‘Sure. I was expecting to hear from Marion. Is something wrong?’
‘I’m afraid so. Marion died suddenly nine days ago, on the third of April. Her tutor, Dr da Silva, didn’t contact you?’
‘No. Oh my God. And the police are involved?’
‘The circumstances of her death are still not clear. She died of arsenic poisoning.’
‘What? But that’s shocking. How could something like that happen?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out. You wrote about a conference she was coming to at your university?’
‘In August, yes. Tony must be devastated.’
‘He’s going too, is he?’
‘Yes, they were both presenting papers on their research. The topic of the conference is gender and culture in Victorian England, so it’s right up their street. Tony is presenting a paper on Dante Gabriel Rossetti, of course. He’s
