Dark Mirror (27 page)

Emily clapped a hand to her mouth and gave a choking sound.

‘We think it may have happened at the café where you had lunch together. So you haven’t felt any symptoms yourself ?’

The girl shook her head. Her face was pale and she looked as if she might pass out. Her mother went to her side on the sofa and put an arm around her.

Emily looked up at Kathy, tears filling her eyes. ‘Is she dead too?’

‘The doctors are fighting to save her. They had a better idea what to do this time, but I’m afraid things don’t look good.’

‘I should go to her.’

‘She’s in a coma. There’s nothing we can do at the moment. What’s important is to make sure you’re all right, and for you to tell me anything that might help us.’

Emily stared anxiously at Kathy. ‘Didn’t Tina say anything?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

Emily rocked forward on the edge of her seat, arms clutched around herself, shaking her head. ‘I can’t remember anything
special. We were with Donald. He wanted to buy us lunch before I left to come home.’

‘Who is Donald?’ Sophie demanded.

‘Oh, this man who knows Marion’s aunt. He wanted to help us.’

Sophie looked at Kathy in alarm. ‘How do we know he knows her aunt, for goodness’ sake? Are you questioning him?’

‘Yes, I’ve already spoken to him. That’s how we knew Emily was there. Can you remember any of the people that were sitting nearby, or passed you in the café?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s just a blur.’

Kathy talked her back through the events of the morning, working forward again to their going to the café. ‘You’re sure you can’t remember anyone looking at you, following you? Perhaps someone that Tina may have known?’

Something seemed to register with Emily. She gave a little frown, then said slowly, ‘I did notice someone. I’d seen him there before, at the British Library, a day or two ago. He didn’t approach us, but I did have the feeling that Tina recognised him.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘Oh, quite respectable. Dark hair swept back. Um . . . in a suit, I think.’

‘I’ll get you to look at some photographs for me, but meanwhile, it might save a little time . . . You remember that biography of Rossetti we spoke about this morning, Mrs Warrender?’

‘The da Silva book?’

‘Yes. I wonder if I could have a look at your copy?’

‘What?’

‘Please. I’ll explain when you bring it.’

Sophie hesitated, then rose to her feet. ‘All right, but don’t say a word until I get back, Emily.’

When she had gone, Emily gave Kathy a weak smile. ‘Would you like anything, a cup of tea?’

‘No thanks. What about you? A glass of water?’

‘I’m all right.’

Sophie returned, handing Kathy the book.

‘Thank you.’ Kathy turned to the inside flap of the back cover, and showed Emily the author’s photograph.

The girl gave a start. ‘Oh! Yes, I think . . . It does look like the man I saw. Who is it?’

‘Dr da Silva is a teacher on Tina’s course,’ Kathy said carefully. ‘Did Tina mention him to you?’

‘Yes, and Marion too. I just didn’t know what he looked like.’

‘What did Tina say?’

‘Oh, that she didn’t trust him, that Marion had had a problem with him. That sort of thing.’

‘Yes, well, it’s natural that he would be in the library, and he’s one of the people we’d want to establish as a possible witness.’

‘I see.’

Neither of them looked convinced by Kathy’s explanation, and she went on, ‘I’d like you both to treat this conversation in confidence for now. We’ll be talking to him, among many others. Can you remember exactly when you saw him before?’

‘Not really. Probably Tuesday. Yes, I think Tuesday afternoon.’

‘All right. So, how did you come to be helping Tina?’

‘Well, it was when we gave her a lift after we met with you at Marion’s house. You remember, Mum?’

‘Yes, you said you’d helped Marion from time to time, and Tina asked about what you were going to read at Oxford, and when you said you had spare time at the moment she invited you to help her doing her library searches.’

‘That’s right. I was quite keen, as least to try it for a few days, just to get an idea about her work. Only, well, I think the main reason she asked me was to pump me about what I’d been doing with Marion.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I didn’t realise at first, but what she was researching wasn’t her own university studies. She was trying to retrace what Marion had been doing in the weeks before she died. She seemed to feel that would explain what happened to her.’

‘But how could it do that, darling?’ Sophie said. ‘Did she say?’

‘She thought that Marion had discovered something really important. Something that would have a huge impact.’

‘About what?’

‘I think—it’s only what I guessed from listening to her—I think it had something to do with him.’ She pointed at 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.’

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 the world expert.’

‘Yes, I know. What about Marion’s paper?’

‘Well, she gave me a fairly sensational title:
Murder, literal and phenomenal, in the work of Dante Gabriel Rossetti
. But she was a bit slow giving me a synopsis. She did say that it would cause a stir.’

‘I see. But I suppose Dr da Silva would know all about it.’

‘I assume so. I met Marion with him when I was in London last year, and I was very impressed by her. I’m sure it would have been a very good paper. It’s really devastating that this has
happened. Maybe if Tony has a copy we might get him to present it as a tribute to Marion. So how can I help you, Inspector?’

‘I’m talking to anyone who may have had contact with Marion around the time she died. Did she say anything to you when you spoke that struck you as odd in any way?’

‘No, not at all. She’d got a grant from her university to help her to attend our conference, and she was very excited about coming. I got the impression that everything was going really well.’

As Kathy rang off, Bren came over to her desk. He’d been in touch with Keith Rafferty’s boss at Brentford Pyrotechnics, Mr Pigeon, who’d promised Kathy he’d check their arsenic supplies.

‘He can’t find any discrepancies, Kathy, but I got the impression he’s not completely confident. Your last visit seems to have rattled him. He’s given Rafferty the boot.’