Murder at Seething Wells (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 5)

by P. J. Thurbin

  “Do you think it’s possible that whoever took that skiff might have seen someone either at Chen’s apartment or along the river?” Linham asked Wilson once the constable had left.

  “I could try and follow it up, Sir, but it’s not likely anyone will fess up.”

  “You’re right. But have the lab boys run a check and see if the blood on the boat matches either Chen’s or anyone who turned up at Kingston Hospital A&E on Friday night.”

  ***

  Ralph was at his desk grading papers when he received a call from the Dean’s secretary, Margaret. Any call from the Dean’s office usually spelt a headache. Rupert Granger had been Dean for longer than Ralph cared to remember and their relationship had always been polite but strained. Granger knew that Ralph had little time for the small time politicking which was Granger’s passion. However, the Dean was still his superior. Margaret told him that Dean Granger had received a call from the police saying that they would like to interview any members of staff who had been at the Seething Wells event on Friday night. Ralph saw this as just one more opportunity for Granger to reinforce his authority.

  “The Dean wanted me to emphasize that you are obviously free to cooperate with their enquiries. However, he did instruct me to remind you that the reputation and good standing of the University are paramount.” Ralph tried not to let the irritation he felt show in his voice as he politely assured Margaret that he would do nothing to cast aspersions on the good name of the University.

  Ralph was looking forward to meeting with the Inspector. He had been involved in investigating previous incidents at the University, and once Inspector Linham was satisfied that Ralph wasn’t one of those flighty wannabe detectives, they had developed a mutual respect for each other. The interviews were being held in the conference room at Kenry House on the Gypsy Hill campus, which was downstairs from Ralph’s office. The Inspector welcomed him in.

  “You remember Wilson here,” the Inspector said as he shook hands with Ralph and nodded in the direction of his Sergeant, who was waiting until his Inspector and Ralph were seated before taking his own chair off to the side.

  “It’s good to see you again, Professor Chalmers; terrible business about your colleague, Dr. Chen.”

  “Yes, very sad indeed. Of course I didn’t know Dr. Chen personally, but it’s always a blow when someone you work with dies unexpectedly. I understand he may have been the victim of a hit and run?”

  “I’m afraid it’s a bit worse than that, Professor. It seems that Dr. Chen was the victim of a brutal attack. The attack appears to have occurred sometime after he left the event you were at on the Friday night. We’ve already interviewed everyone else who was there, including the group from the Wellcome Trust at Oxford. I understand that you were hosting the event on behalf of the University?”

  “That’s right. Dean Granger was unable to attend and asked me to fill in for him.”

  “We’d be grateful for any information you could provide that may help our investigation.”

  “Like I said, I didn’t know Dr. Chen, but I’m happy to answer any questions you may

  have.”

  “Sometimes it’s an observation about something that seems trivial that turns out to be the very piece that’s missing from the puzzle. So if you don’t mind, I’ll just ask a few routine questions and then if you can think of anything else we’ll take note of that as well and see if it sheds any light on the events leading to Chen’s death.”

  “Of course,” Ralph replied.

  “For example, did you notice anything unusual in his behavior that night, or who he was talking to or who he left with? Even a hunch would help at this point, because so far we have nothing really to go on.”

  “As I said, I had never met Dr. Chen. The first I heard who had been killed was when my secretary told me when I came in on Monday morning. So I’m afraid I can’t help you on that score. I wasn’t even aware that he was at the event as my job was to host the group from the Wellcome Trust and I’m afraid that took all of my attention during the evening. Sorry I can’t be more helpful, but as you know, I’m in the Business School and Dr. Chen was over in the Science department, so we had little cause to be thrown together. I was only asked to be at the Seething Wells event at the last minute when the Dean found he couldn’t attend.” Actually Ralph did have a few ideas about what might have happened, but he knew they might sound a bit vague. Still, he knew that Linham would rather have his views even if they led to a dead end rather than keep them to himself when they might help to resolve the case. He decided to say what was on his mind.

  “Naturally I have no proof of anything, but I do have a few thoughts.”

  “Well, that doesn’t surprise me, Professor. Go right ahead. We could use some fresh ideas on this one,” he said glancing at Wilson.

  “Well, I’m sure you are aware of the protesters who were trying to disrupt the work that Dr. Chen was involved in. Animal Rights campaigners can get pretty wound up about things. I can imagine that they might try and frighten someone but I doubt they would go so far as murder.”

  “Yes, we’re looking into that, although I agree, they aren’t likely to take it that far. But you said you had some thoughts. Just toss them out on the table and let us decide if we need to follow up on anything.”

  Ralph paused. “There is also that business about Chen firing one of his researchers not long ago. Dr. Richard Windham. I’m not suggesting that Dr. Windham would have attacked Dr. Chen over it, but I did hear that they had a pretty big argument.”

  “Do you know what the argument was about?” Linham was leaning forward, obviously interested in learning more about the altercation.

  “Rumor had it that Chen could be a bit of a prima donna and I guess Windham accused him of acting like Fu Manchu. Well, I guess that sent Chen into a bit of a tirade and the result was that he gave Windham the sack. Of course people lose their jobs every day and no one gets killed over it.” Ralph decided to leave that topic. After all, he hadn’t told the Inspector anything he couldn’t find out from any secretary or staff member at the University and none of it amounted to proof of anything except that Chen was a bit of a martinet and not very popular around campus. Still, Linham had asked for his thoughts and that’s what he’d given him.

  “As you quite rightly say, it’s quite a leap from being annoyed with someone to actually setting out to attack them or possibly even cause their death. I’d like to ask you about this Wellcome group from Oxford. I spoke to a Dr. Ryan Miller who said that he had been at Cambridge, and if memory serves, he was at the same college as you?”

  “Yes, that’s right, but a bit after me. I only found that out by chance when I spoke to an old friend from Cambridge who’s now at the Addenbrooke Hospital there. He told me

  that Miller and he worked together some years ago. It seems that Miller was a rising

  star in his early career at Cambridge. Nobel Prize candidate and all that.”

  “Dr. Miller seemed surprised when we told him about Chen’s work on the SARS virus. When you met him at Seething Wells did he mention any of this to you?”

  “No. We only talked about rowing. He rowed in the local Regatta some years back when he was at school at Kingston, before his Cambridge days. He went on to row at Henley. I would have thought he would have known about Dr. Chen’s work, especially as they were more or less in the same field. But if Chen hadn’t published any recent papers about his work it’s possible that Miller wasn’t aware that they were researching in the same area. That’s how the academic world operates.”

  “Well we did ask Dr. Miller if he could think of any reason why anyone would want to attack Dr. Chen. He rather cryptically told us that scientists were seekers after truth and that the truth makes many enemies.”

  “Bit like us, Sir.” Wilson interjected. The Inspector gave him a hard look.

  “Well, we appreciate your time as well as your thoughts,” Inspector Linham said as he stood up and shook hands with Ralph before pu
lling on his trench coat. “You’re my last interview of the day and I must say so far we know little more than before. But I hope you’ll get in touch if you remember anything that might shed a bit more light on things.”

  The Inspector had already interviewed Windham as well as other staff from the Science Faculty who had told him about Windham’s row with Chen, so it came as no surprise to hear it from Ralph. Wilson had also discovered that Windham regularly worked out at the local Nuffield Health Center and Gym at Seething Wells and that he was known to have a short fuse. He had been amongst the patrons of The Lamb, a pub only a short 5 minute walk from Seething Wells, when the proprietor had called in the police after tensions had run a bit high during a hotly contested football match, but nothing had come of it. Wilson had checked with the bartender at the Lamb who confirmed that Windham, as well as some other University staff, were drinking there on that Friday night, and that he left sometime around 10 or a bit earlier as best as he could remember. The barkeep told him that Fridays were their busiest night and he couldn’t recall if Windham had left with anyone. Wilson had reminded his Inspector that at the interview Windham told them that he had been at home watching TV that night but recalled his boss pointing out that not having an alibi does not in itself prove guilt, although his lying about his whereabouts certainly raised a red flag.

  ***

  Back in his apartment, Ralph savored some freshly brewed coffee and reflected on what Linham had said about Wyndham and about the now reformed Ryan Miller and his determination to be the leader in his field. As he thought about them the words of Henry David Thoreau came to mind:

  If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured and far way.

  As Inspector Linham contemplated making his way home to a late supper with his long suffering wife, Wilson shared the results of his latest investigations. No one had gone to Kingston A&E with a cut hand or a similar simple wound on the Friday night that Chen was killed, but a cross check between Chen’s DNA and the blood found on the skiff was a match. Still, there was still no clue as to how Chen’s blood could have got onto the boat.

  Further, Chen’s invite to Henley was from a Claus Stein, CEO of Kramer Pharma which was based at Henley on Thames and Kramer Pharma was the outfit that was funding Chen’s research at the University into a possible SARS vaccine.

  “So that’s about it so far, Sir,” Wilson said as he finished reading the file to his Inspector.

  “There do seem to be several loose ends and contradictions,” Linham said. “For my money greed and ego seem to be rearing their ugly heads again. I think it’s time we both went home. It’s been a long day.”

  _________________

  Chapter 5

  Ralph’s lecture schedule for a Tuesday was a mess. Gypsy Hill campus had been constructed on a slope that at times felt more like a hillside and rushing between buildings and fighting streams of students moving between classes was like being in a half marathon without the camaraderie. He and Lance had agreed to meet up at 5.30 and catch the college bus to the main campus at Penrhyn Road where they planned to meet Lance’s friend and rugby fanatic Jack White, who had been Dr. Stephen Chen’s Deputy. Getting on the bus was always a fight as students jostled for a place. No quarter was given and the two friends stood, hanging from the overhead straps, squashed between a screaming mob that had plenty of steam to let off after being cooped up in lectures all day. The first thing Ralph saw as he alighted was a group of protesters with a large banner proclaiming the defense of animal rights and calling for a ban on all experiments on live animals. Pushing their way through the crowded foyer they finally emerged into the comparative calm of the staff bar.

  “Blimey, Ralph, that was like running the gauntlet. It would make a good training exercise if you played for the All Blacks.” Lance grinned as they ordered cold beers and a couple of pork and ham pies.

  Looking around, Ralph was struck by the youthfulness of the other staff members who seemed to be engrossed in earnest discussions. He wondered if the fact that it was predominantly a science and technology campus attracted staff that Ralph would describe as unworldly. The norm here was for a student to plow straight through to his or her doctorate once they got past the first hurdle and then straight on to a job at a University for the rest of their lives. Perhaps unkindly he subscribed to them the old maxim ‘those who can do, those who can’t teach’ or however it went. He rather prided himself on the fact that after his PhD he had spent some years at the cutting edge in industry before coming to academia, an exposure that he felt gave him a bit more credibility and kudos with his students.

  They tucked in to their pork pies and took in their surroundings. Ralph was just savoring a long swallow of his beer when Lance interrupted his thoughts.

  “Oh, there’s Jack now.” Lance pointed in the direction of a tall well built man in his late 50’s who waved to some of the others as he walked in.

  “Certainly is a busy place you have here,” Lance said once Jack had made his way to the small table they had managed to commandeer.

  “Ralph, meet my rugby pal Jack White. Jack, Ralph Chalmers, Professor extraordinaire and part-time sleuth of Gypsy Hill.” Lance had a way of making everyone feel like they’d

  known one another for years. “I grabbed a pork pie and a beer for you when I ordered

  ours,” Lance pointed to the extra plate of food and glass of beer in the center of the table. “I figured there was no way I wanted to fight that crowd at the bar twice.”

  Jack pulled a vacant chair over from the next table and squeezed it in between

  Ralph and Lance.

  “It isn’t exactly the Ritz,” Jack agreed, “but they sure know how to make a proper pork pie.”

  “Jack is, or rather was Stephen Chen’s Deputy. But I guess you’re the big cheese now what with Chen’s unfortunate demise,” Lance said with a wry grin as he slapped Jack on the shoulder.

  “I’m afraid so,” Jack said, “Unless they decide to either bring someone else in to take over the top spot or else scrap the project altogether.”

  “Yes,” Ralph said, “Dr. Chen’s death must have been quite a shock. One never knows what to expect when an unfortunate shake up occurs, what with all of the politics involved.” Lance sort of rolled his eyes at Ralph’s predictably conservative approach to any discussion involving the University.

  “I hope Lance hasn’t been defaming me too much around the campus,” Ralph said with a rare show of mischievousness once the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

  “He’s hardly mentioned your academic interests at all,” Jack said, “but he has subjected me to chapter and verse about your latest sleuthing activities down along the Devon coast. I trust murder and mayhem isn’t always your trademark else none of us will be safe.” The three men sat in companionable silence as they turned their attention to finishing off their pork pies.

  “Lance tells me that you’re trying to hold things together with your research team,” Ralph broke in.

  “As best I can,” Jack said. “Stephen was a funny guy to work with, but what happened to him was tragic in more ways than one.” Jack lowered his voice and glanced around to see who was within earshot before continuing. “All his efforts to make a scientific breakthrough, and then to end up like that. And he was just managing to get himself a social life as well, nice girlfriend and all that, from what I understand, although he kept quiet about his private life.”

  “Yes. Not a nice way for anyone to die. His girlfriend must be devastated,”

  said Ralph quietly.

  “Heads down lads, here comes the boss,” mumbled Jack.

  “Harriet, what can I do for you?” Jack said as he wiped his mouth and stood up to greet the solid looking woman in a smart trouser suit and patent leather high heeled shoes.

  “Have you got that report that I asked you for on the project status? I need it for a meeting with
the Vice Chancellor tomorrow afternoon,” she said, addressing Jack who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. Ralph recognized the game she was playing and sympathized with him. Harriet Warner and Rupert Granger must have attended the same charm school, he mused.

  “Let me introduce two of our colleagues from the Business school, Lance Bains and Ralph Chalmers. They’re at the Gypsy Hill Campus. Chaps, Professor Harriet Warner, Dean of the Faculty of Science,” Jack interjected. She glanced at Lance and Ralph as they tried to wipe their hands of the remains of the pork pies. She just nodded disinterestedly.

  “We were just saying what a tragedy it was about Dr. Chen,” said Ralph. “It must have been such a blow for his family and of course for all of you who worked with him.”

  “Yes, of course. It is always sad to lose a colleague, but the worst of it is the impact that it will have on my Faculty. Outside funding is paying the salary for eight of my best

  research staff, let alone you.” She said looking directly at Jack who visibly flinched at the slight. Having paused for effect she continued. “Unless we can convince the project sponsors that progress will not be affected by this incident there will be all hell to pay. Obviously I can’t be expected to integrate all of the staff working on the project back into teaching, so some will have to be let go. That’s why I want that report. And you had better make sure that it’s full of good news, Jack, or you and I will have to revisit that talk we had at your review about taking early retirement.”

  The confrontational style had caught the attention of the other staff in the bar and one or two were already drinking up and heading for the door. Ralph decided that Jack, who was now looking red in the face, needed a hand.

  “I had heard about the project and it must be quite a feather in the Faculty’s cap to have such a prestigious piece of work. I was talking to a friend at Cambridge the other day and he was saying how Dr. Chen was a leader in the SARS research area.” He could see that the mention of Cambridge University and that he had a contact there had