Dark Mirror (9 page)

‘Can I come in?’

‘Sure.’ He shrugged and turned away, leading her down a dark narrow corridor to a small kitchen at the rear. The place smelled of sour damp and burnt cheese and stale beer. There were dirty dishes
and empty drink cans and pizza boxes everywhere. He clumsily cleared a seat for Kathy, and leaned back against the sink facing her. ‘So what have I done?’

Kathy took out her notepad. ‘Do you know someone called Marion Summers, Andy?’

He blinked, puzzled, then made an exaggerated frown. ‘Ye-es.’

‘When did you last see her?’

‘Oh, ages ago. Why? What’s it about?’

‘She died three days ago, on Tuesday. Haven’t you seen the papers?’

His mouth dropped open; he appeared thoroughly shocked. ‘No! That’s terrible. How? What happened?’

‘We’re investigating that now. Where were you last Tuesday?’ He shook his head, running both hands through his hair. ‘Tuesday . . . Tuesday . . . Well, a maths lecture at ten, followed by a physics prac in the afternoon. I had lunch with two mates at the pub—or maybe that was Wednesday, I’m not sure. No, it was Tuesday.’

Kathy took their names. ‘Are they friends of Marion’s too?’

‘Nah. Look, I barely knew her. I only met her a couple of times.’

‘Go on.’

‘Well, the first time I was having coffee with a friend of mine, Tina Flowers—she’s a student, stays in the student flats in Stamford Street, where I used to live. Well, that’s where we were, having coffee, when Marion called in to see her. I thought, wow, she was a knockout, really attractive. She and Tina talked about some work they were doing, and then . . .’ He shook his head, and his face had gone very pale. ‘Christ.’

Kathy got to her feet. ‘Sit down, Andy. Put your head between your knees.’ She filled a glass under the tap and brought it to him.

‘Sorry . . . it just hit me. Sorry . . .’

She waited until he finally sat up, sucking in a deep breath. ‘God, haven’t done that since school. How—how did it happen?’

‘We think she was poisoned.’

‘Oh Jesus.’ He bent forward again, cradling his face in his hands. ‘That is so unreal.’

‘Go on with your story. You were at Tina’s place.’

‘Yes. As Marion was leaving, Tina mentioned this party we were going to the next evening, and told Marion she should come, and I joined in and said she must, and she sort of laughed and said maybe. Well, she did. I’d already had a few by the time she showed up. I thought she looked fantastic, really sexy, and I went and chatted to her. She said she was waiting for someone else to arrive, and we flirted, you know. She was really bright and attractive and, well, confident, and I thought she was interested. Only she wasn’t really. I think she was just filling in time. The next day I persuaded Tina to let me have her phone number, and tried to call her.’

‘Twenty-eight times.’

‘Never! Did I? Bloody hell. You didn’t
read
the messages, did you?’ His face turned a deep red. ‘It was a bit of fun, you know? Just mucking about. I mean, I was really keen, but she was having me on, I reckon; just teasing.’

‘How frustrating. That must have really pissed you off.’

‘Yeah, it did a bit, but that’s how it goes, isn’t it? Win some, lose some.’

‘Who was she meeting at the party?’

‘Well, that’s the thing, I don’t know if there really was anyone. I mean, when I wanted to take her home she said she had to find this other guy and disappeared, but I never actually saw her with anyone, and neither did Tina. But I couldn’t be sure; there was a big crowd there. Anyway, after a couple of days trying to talk to her on the phone, I gave up. I don’t even know where she lived.’

Kathy showed him the mugshot of Keith Rafferty from his police file.

‘Blimey.’ Andy stared at the scowling face. ‘Who’s he?’

‘Ever seen him before?’

‘Don’t think so.’

‘Okay. So what did Marion talk about, at the party?’

‘Oh, you know . . .’ He shrugged, then raised his head, an odd expression on his face. ‘Jesus, I’ve just remembered. There was something weird she said.’

‘Go on.’

‘Well, Tina had told her I was studying science at uni, and she wanted to know if I was doing any chemistry subjects. When I said yes she asked if I knew anything about arsenic compounds. I asked her why, and she said she wanted to poison somebody.’

They stared at each other, and Kathy felt a chill creep up her spine. Nigel Ogilvie’s remark in the London Library came back to her, about her interest in poisons. ‘She said that? What words did she use, exactly?’

‘Umm . . .
I’m thinking of poisoning somebody
, something like that. I took it for a joke, of course.’

‘Did you tell her—about arsenic?’

‘No, all I know is that arsenic is a heavy metal, but I don’t know which compounds are most lethal or anything, or what they taste like.’

‘She wanted to know that?’

‘Yeah. So I told her about Dr Ringland. He’s one of our chemistry lecturers, and arsenic is his research area.’

‘Did she contact him?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Where can I find him?’

He told her, and supplied the number of Tina Flowers’ flat. Kathy left him sitting in the kitchen.

•

The student flats in Stamford Street were seething, as if someone had poked a stick in an ants’ nest; people were running out the door with hair and scarves flying, late for ten o’clock lectures. Kathy checked in at the office and was told how to find Tina Flowers’ room on the fourth floor. It was part of a self-catering apartment of six single rooms sharing a lounge, kitchen and bathroom. One of the other residents of the apartment was in the lounge, ironing clothes. Her name was Jummai, she said, a student from Nigeria. She showed Kathy the door to Tina’s room, which she knocked on, waited, then opened. Inside Kathy glimpsed a chaos of crumpled clothes, towels, unmade bed, shoes, CDs and books. The doors of the wardrobe, chairs and table formed improvised drying racks for underwear.

Jummai smiled. ‘Tina is not tidy,’ she said. ‘I think she may have gone to a nine o’clock lecture. She’ll probably be back soon.’

She seemed very shy, and Kathy chatted to her about her studies, and what life was like in the apartment, trying to put her at ease.

‘Do you know a friend of Tina’s called Marion Summers? This is her picture. She lived in this building until three months ago, and I understand she visited Tina here recently.’

Jummai examined the photo. ‘Yes, I do remember her. She is very attractive. She’s not in trouble, is she?’

‘I know she went to a party with Tina not long ago. Were you there?’

Jummai’s face dropped. ‘Oh, you are looking for drugs.’

‘No, no, it isn’t that. I’m afraid Marion died on Tuesday, Jummai. I’m looking into the circumstances.’

The girl looked shocked, and wary. ‘That is very sad.’

‘Yes, very. I have to find out as much as I can about her. Can you help me at all? Did you go out with her and Tina?’

‘No. I go to church, Tina goes to parties, as you say. She returns late at night and disturbs everyone. She borrows things and doesn’t return them. She eats other people’s food and doesn’t replace it. I don’t mean to sound unkind, but that’s the way it is.’

‘I see. How about Marion?’

‘I don’t know . . . She seemed to be more serious. She dressed well and spoke softly. I think she was helping Tina with her work. I heard them discussing an essay. And money.’

‘Money?’

‘Tina always wants to borrow money.’

At that the door to the corridor flew open, there was a muffled curse, and then a dishevelled figure, loaded with several heavy bags, stormed in.

‘Ah, Tina!’ Jummai said.

‘Yeah, what? I can’t give you your skirt back yet, Jummai, so piss off.’

Jummai rolled her eyes at Kathy. ‘There is a police officer here to see you, Tina.’

‘What?’ She peered at Kathy. ‘Hang on, I need a pee.’ She dropped her bags and disappeared through another door.

She took her time, and when she came back she had a surly set to her face, as if preparing to deny everything. Kathy showed her ID, speculating on what she’d flushed down the toilet. ‘Let’s take a seat, Tina. I’m calling about your friend Marion, Marion Summers. Have you seen the news?’

This wasn’t what the girl was expecting, and she cautiously shook her head.

‘It’s been in the papers. Marion was taken ill on Tuesday, and died in hospital later that day.’

The girl did a double take, then looked horrified. She had a pale, elfin face, exaggerated by the dark make-up on her lips and eyes, and cropped black hair. Out of the corner of her eye, Kathy noticed Jummai observing Tina’s distress with some satisfaction.

‘Any chance of a cup of tea or coffee, Jummai?’ she asked.

‘Oh . . . yes, all right.’

‘I can’t believe this,’ Tina whispered. ‘I spoke to her on Tuesday morning.’

‘Did she sound all right then?’

‘Yes, fine. She said she’d call me later in the week. What happened?’

‘It appears that she was poisoned. We don’t yet know how it happened.’

Tina gave a choking sound and put a hand to her mouth.

‘You all right? You want a glass of water?’

The girl shook her head, said hoarsely, ‘I don’t understand. Where was this?’

‘At the London Library, where she was working. She had some lunch in the square outside, then came in and collapsed. There was nothing anyone could do. Were you close friends, Tina?’

She hunched forward in the chair, staring at her fingernails, bitten to the quick. ‘Yes.’

‘Can you tell me about her?’ Kathy spoke gently. ‘It would help me. Do you mind?’

Tina said nothing at first, then whispered, ‘She saved me. Last October, when uni came back, I just couldn’t deal with things any more. I was standing in front of the student noticeboard in the department, trying to decide whether to jump in the river or go home and cut my wrists . . .’

Kathy had already spotted the pink scars on the girl’s pale forearm.

‘Then this voice behind me said, “Interested?” It was Marion. She pointed to a notice she’d put up, offering paid research work. I don’t know why I said yes. It was the last thing I wanted really, but there was something about her. We went and had a coffee, and she told me what she was doing. She wasn’t like me at all—she was very organised and disciplined, whereas I’m the opposite. But it felt like we were . . . sisters. Later on we discovered that our lives had been quite similar. I mean, like broken homes, stuffed-up families. Marion tried harder than me to keep in touch with her mum, but she’s useless. Have you spoken to her?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did she ask if she’d get any money out of it?’

‘Something like that.’

‘That’d be right. Anyway . . .’ Tina shrugged herself upright and looked around. ‘What do you care?’

‘I went through a bad time when I was about the same age as you, Tina.’

‘Yeah? What happened?’

‘I became a cop.’

‘Oh.’ She played with her fingers, twisting them together. ‘Well, maybe you’re like her. She was so strong. She knew exactly what she wanted.’

‘And that was?’

‘To be independent, not to rely on anyone, to be able to live her own life.’

‘That usually takes money.’

‘That’s why she was working so hard.’

‘With her studies?’

‘And her paid job.’

‘What was that?’

‘She was some kind of research assistant to someone. So what with that and her university work, she had more than she
could cope with. That’s why she was looking for someone to help her.’

‘It must have paid pretty well, this other job, if she could afford to employ help.’

‘Yeah, she said they were pretty well heeled. And impatient.’

‘Someone at the university?’

‘I don’t know, she never said.’

‘So did you see each other socially? Meet her other friends?’

Tina shook her head. ‘I don’t think she had many friends. At least, she didn’t talk about them.’

‘What about a boyfriend?’

‘Do you know who it was?’

‘I was hoping you could tell me.’

Tina shook her head. ‘She never let on.’

Kathy bit her lip with frustration. ‘You say you and Marion were good friends, but you don’t know who she worked for or who her boyfriend was?’

Tina just shrugged.

‘But you knew there was someone?’

‘She had a new ring one time. It looked expensive, and when I asked her she said an admirer had given it to her for her birthday. She was teasing me.’

‘Where did Marion move to, Tina?’

‘I don’t know that either.’ She saw the expression on Kathy’s face and protested, ‘No, it’s true. There were a lot of things she kept private.’

A look of hurt came over her face, and Kathy saw a tear form in her eye. She wondered if Tina had been in love with Marion. ‘Didn’t you mind that, Tina?’ she said carefully.

Tina sniffed and shook off the question. ‘I thought it was really mysterious and interesting how she kept things dark. But now I wonder if she was afraid.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, afraid that bad things might happen if she let the different parts of her life come together.’

‘Did she ever mention being afraid of someone in particular?’

‘No, not in so many words. But when something like this happens you look back at everything and wonder, don’t you? I remember one time we were walking across the river, and she suddenly jumped, as if she’d seen someone, and as soon as we got to the other side she dashed off with hardly a word.’

‘I see.’

Kathy showed her the picture of Rafferty. The girl hesitated. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘What sort of research work was Marion doing?’

‘It was all to do with William Morris and the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood—that’s what she was doing her doctorate on as well. Pretty boring really, but it was good for me—my Eng. Lit. lecturer is mad keen on them and there’s bound to be exam questions. He’s her supervisor too.’

‘That’s Dr da Silva, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right.’

‘What’s he like?’

‘Fancies himself. You know, shows off to the girls in class. Tells us about these papers he’s given at conferences around the world with lots of other important wankers like himself.’