by Leo McNeir
“Is this normal?” Donovan was on his feet, leading Rosemary to the door.
“Yes. They make routine visits out of hours.”
“Good.”
“Good?” Rosemary stopped and stared at Donovan. She was more accustomed to dealing with people who had died centuries earlier and rarely had to take snap decisions.
“Sure. It’s just routine. Come on. We’ve got to get back to your office. We mustn’t be found in here.”
“What shall we say to them?”
“I’m a new assistant or something.”
Rosemary looked at Donovan’s black leathers and shook her head. “You’re not, I mean, you don’t look like –”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“But you haven’t got a security pass.”
Donovan pulled her out through the door and closed it behind them. They could hear voices in the entrance hall. He looked at the empty corridor. There was nowhere to hide. Overhead, signs indicated the emergency exits, the fire extinguisher, toilets. Toilets!
“Come on!”
He seized Rosemary by the wrist and dragged her away. The toilets were round the corner to the left. He looked back. The guards were not in sight.
“Rosemary, where will they be? Think!”
“Er, probably checking the directorate offices first.”
“Are the toilets locked?”
“The toilets? No.”
Donovan stood thinking. Rosemary was frowning.
“What can we –”
“Listen. Go back to your office. Get a handbag or something and wait until you hear the guards opening the door to this corridor. Then come out and walk down here. Act relaxed but walk quite quickly and say hallo or something to them. Okay?”
Rosemary nodded. “What about you?”
“I’ll meet you in the Ladies.”
Rosemary looked puzzled. “You’ll meet me –”
“Go in and take the nearest cubicle to the door. I’ll be there.”
“But they’re bound to inspect the toilets.”
“Good. I’m counting on it.”
Rosemary’s frown deepened. Donovan touched her arm.
“Trust me. Just do it. Go quickly.”
Rosemary had barely entered her office when she heard the door open along the corridor. Shouldering her bag, she stepped out and began walking at a brisk pace. She glanced back and raised a hand in the direction of the two security men, calling out a cheery greeting. By the time she reached the corner, they were pushing open the doors of the offices. She hurried along and dived into the Ladies.
The place looked deserted, and she wondered if Donovan had climbed out of a window, but there was only one, protected on the outside by bars. She pushed against the first cubicle door and gasped as she went in. Donovan was standing on the lavatory bowl.
“Are they coming?” he whispered.
“Any minute.”
“Shut the door.”
Rosemary pushed home the bolt. “What now?”
“Sit on the loo.”
Donovan shuffled back to leave space for her to sit down. As she turned, he patted her on the shoulder and pointed to the bottom of the partition. There was a gap of about eight inches to the floor. Rosemary shook her head. She didn’t understand. He leaned forward to whisper.
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to take down your jeans.”
Rosemary’s mouth opened, her expression stunned. He continued.
“It’s important to look authentic if they come in.”
Rosemary now understood why Donovan had specified the first cubicle. Slowly, she turned her back on him, unzipped her jeans and rolled them down around her ankles before sitting on the loo seat. A sudden sound outside told them the security guards were coming. After three loud knocks on the door they heard it swing open.
“Sorry about this, miss. We have to check.”
Rosemary kept her voice matter-of-fact as she called out through the partition.
“That’s all right.”
“Thank you, miss.”
*
Anne checked her watch. Five minutes had elapsed since the security guards had entered the building. She wondered if Rosemary’s office had a cupboard where Donovan could hide. Would it matter that he was there? Perhaps he might be a visitor or a courier delivering material to the lab … on a Sunday?
That voice again: don’t drop your guard, not for a moment, not ever.
So what could she do to help? It was agonising having to sit and wait, powerless to do anything useful. Or was that the case? Anne gripped the mobile in her lap and pondered. Gradually, an idea began to take shape in her mind. She lifted the phone and scrolled through its memory.
*
Rosemary stood, quickly pulling up her jeans and zipping them. She left the top button unfastened. Inclining her head round to Donovan, she spoke in a whisper.
“How long do we need to stay here?”
“You should go now.”
“What about you?”
“I have to wait till they’re clear before I can come out.”
Rosemary hesitated. Donovan pointed at the handle on the cistern.
“Don’t forget to flush and wash your hands. The guards will expect to hear the sound of the water and the roller-towel.”
“That’s just it, Donovan. I’d, er, actually like to use the loo.”
“Sure.” He climbed carefully down, wincing as his left foot touched the floor. “I’ll go to another cubicle. Sorry.”
Musing that nothing in her lengthy studies right up to doctorate level had ever prepared her to handle experiences such as this, Rosemary used the loo, rather self-consciously, and exited the toilets after making all the appropriate sounds. Feeling relieved in several senses of the word, she turned the corner and found the two guards waiting for her. Their demeanour was stern.
“We need to have a word, miss, on a serious matter of security. Strictly speaking, we ought to make a report about this.”
“What is it?” Rosemary hoped they didn’t notice she was shaking.
“Your office. When you came out to use the, er, facilities, you left a cigarette burning in the ashtray.”
“Oh!” Rosemary knew she was blushing.
“First of all, that posed a fire risk, and secondly, smoking is only permitted in restricted areas. As a member of staff, you should know that.”
“You’re quite right. I’m really sorry. I must have been so absorbed in my –”
All three heads turned. Not far away a phone was ringing.
“I think that’s mine.” Rosemary tried not to reveal how elated she felt at this intervention.
“Like I said, miss, we should normally make a report to our office, but …”
The ringing continued, its persistent sound intruding into their conversation, demanding attention.
“That’s very sweet of you. I’ll not let it happen again. In fact, I’m planning to give it up altogether.”
“Fair enough, miss. There’s no more to be said, then.”
“Thank you.” Rosemary looked down the corridor. There was no end to the phone ringing. “That must be urgent. I’d better get it. Are you coming this way?”
The three of them made their way back along the corridor, Rosemary hurrying ahead of the men. She turned and gave them a grateful smile as she entered her office. Racing across the room, she seized the mobile from the desktop.
“Hallo.”
*
Donovan waited a full five minutes. When he stepped down from the loo seat in the end cubicle, he examined the window. It was of frosted glass, a typical Victorian sash window like all the others he had seen in the building, and he guessed that it could only be opened a small amount for ventilation. He turned the fastener and took hold of the two brass lifting handles. He was right. The opening was limited to about four inches. Kneeling, he peered out through the gap, twisting his head to gain a view on all sides.
The AML was larger than just two h
ouses, with a full-height extension at the rear, covering three floors in total. The security guards would have to patrol the rear part of the building.
It was almost noon. He walked rapidly to the door, opened it smoothly and stuck his head out. Silence. In the corridor, he eased the door shut without a sound and walked briskly back to Rosemary’s office, the thick soles of his boots noiseless on the tiled floor. Without hesitating, he opened her door and slipped inside.
Rosemary raised a hand to her forehead. She looked drawn.
“What now?”
Donovan nodded towards the door. “Where are they?”
“I don’t –”
“Presumably they inspect all parts of the building.”
“Yes.”
“So they must be upstairs by now.”
“Must be.”
“Come on, Rosemary. Time you had an early lunch.”
“Food is the last thing I –”
“It’s not about food. It’s about getting out of here.” He handed her a large envelope. “Take these. It’s the blown-up photos.”
“But shouldn’t you –”
“If I get stopped, they’ll search me. No-one will touch you. We gotta go.”
Rosemary stuffed the envelope into her bag while Donovan grabbed his helmet and rucksack from the floor. Pausing at the door, Donovan opened it a crack and listened. Nothing.
“We’re going to sneak out while they’re upstairs?” Rosemary whispered.
“No. You’re going to call them.”
“But they might be in the rooms at the back.”
“Precisely. They might just as easily be in the rooms at the front.”
He told Rosemary what she had to do, then took her by the arm and ushered her out. He pulled open the access door between the corridor and the entrance hall, and they listened again for sounds of movement. Donovan flattened himself against the wall, invisible from the stairwell, and nodded at Rosemary. She took a deep breath and called up the stairs.
“Hallo!”
No response. Donovan nodded at her again.
“Louder.”
“HALLO! HALLO!”
Footsteps. A voice from high up.
“Yes, miss?”
“I’m just popping out for lunch. I’ll leave you to set the alarm. Okay?”
“Will you be coming back?”
Donovan nodded.
“Probably,” she called.
“You’ll remember what we talked about.”
“Yes I will. Don’t worry. Bye!”
“Bye, miss.”
They strained to hear the guards’ footsteps. Donovan immediately crossed to the front door, and they were outside in an instant. Rosemary turned to shut the door firmly. When the lock clicked, she looked round. Donovan was nowhere to be seen.
She walked down the steps onto the street. Pausing, she checked her shoulder bag and located her wallet. She hitched the bag back into place and, on impulse, looked up at the façade. As she did so, a face moved into view at a window on the second floor. She smiled and gave a brief wave before walking off towards the city centre, alone.
Somewhere down the street she heard a car door shutting.
*
Later that afternoon Marnie received a phone call from Anne. She outlined what had happened in Oxford and gave her ETA for returning to Glebe Farm. She declared that she would not want much to eat, despite having had only a small lunch, but she would be desperate for a Pimm’s and a ‘flopping out’ by the water. Marnie promised both.
She was disconnecting when there came two knocks at the office door. Rob walked in looking puzzled.
“Marnie, I’ve just had a call from Rosemary.”
Marnie nodded. “I’ve heard about their activities at the lab.”
“Okay. Tell me about Donovan?”
“What about him? You’ve met him yourself.”
“Sure, but, who exactly is he?”
Marnie considered this before replying.
“That’s a good question.”
Chapter 36
Henry Eustace
The first call of the week took Marnie unawares. It came in at exactly nine o’clock on Monday morning, and she should have known who would be on the line. There was no preamble.
“I must say, Marnie, I find it all rather disappointing.”
“Celia? Good morning. What do you mean?”
A sigh. “I really thought you would be different, but it’s the same old story. People just don’t do what they say they’ll do.”
Across the room Anne was stuffing a notebook into her bag and picking up her car keys. She saw Marnie take a deep breath before replying.
“Celia, the works are on target. In fact, if anything, they’re running slightly ahead of schedule.”
“I can’t see how they possibly –”
“Please listen. All the woodwork has been prepared and undercoated, and they’re well advanced with glossing.”
“Well, it doesn’t look to me as if much work has been done at all since I left. I hoped they’d have finished at least one room by now. How much longer will it take?”
“A couple of weeks. Trust me, Celia. The work is going well, you’ll see.”
Another sigh from Celia. From the other side of the office a concerned look from Anne, who was hovering by her desk. Marnie listened to a silence she was determined not to break.
“Have you had any news about the body in the grave?” Celia’s tone suggested that that too was Marnie’s responsibility. “Only, no-one tells me anything, of course. I thought you’d probably be in the know.”
“I haven’t heard anything further from the police. They certainly don’t confide in me.”
“So what’s happening this morning? Will the decorators be turning up at all?”
“Of course, any minute. Anne’s on her way up to see them.”
“Well, there’s no sign of any. Oh, wait a minute. Someone’s arriving. It’s them. I hope they know what they have to do.”
*
At about the time Anne was arriving at Knightly Court, Ralph had his first phone call of the week. Guy Fellheimer sounded bemused. Was Ralph going to be in his study that morning? Could Henry Eustace, the chess friend from Pembroke College, ring him? Ralph agreed to be called and tried to draw Fellheimer on what Eustace wanted to discuss.
“He’ll have to tell you that himself, Ralph.”
Ralph knew better than to press him further. Afterwards, sitting at his desk thinking about the conversation, Ralph reached an unexpected conclusion: Guy didn’t know what Eustace wanted to talk about. It was for his ears only.
An hour later the phone rang.
“We haven’t met, Professor Lombard, but I believe you know about me from Guy Fellheimer.”
“Of course, Dr Eustace. What can I do for you?”
“Well, professor, it’s actually quite difficult to know where to begin.”
“You could start by calling me Ralph.”
“Thank you. Look, I don’t suppose there’s any chance we might get together?”
“Certainly. I’m probably coming over to Oxford later in the week.”
There was no immediate response. Ralph sensed that Eustace was in need of more than a quiet chat over a glass of wine. He was looking at his diary when Eustace spoke again.
“Would it be at all possible for us to meet today? I could come to your office if that wasn’t inconvenient.”
“My office is out of Oxford. In fact, it’s a boat on the canal.”
“Yes, I know. Guy told me.”
They agreed to meet at three.
*
Anne swept into the office, crossed the room without speaking and flopped into her chair with a sigh worthy of an Oscar nomination. Marnie looked up, an inscrutable expression on her face.
“Need I ask whether you ran into Celia on your site visit?”
“I couldn’t take any more. I’ve finally done it.”
“Really.”
“Yep
. I cut off her head with a meat axe and chopped her into tiny pieces. Then I fed them to the fishes in the canal. You’d better make the call, Marnie.”
“The police?”
“The RSPCA. I’m going to turn myself in. They’ll want to put me on a rap on the grounds of cruelty to fishes.”
“They’ll probably give you a good grilling.”
Anne winced. Marnie got up and went to the kitchen area to switch on the kettle.
“Cup of cyanide?”
“Please, with strychnine, two lumps.”
“I’m not sure they make strychnine in lumps, Anne.”
“Granulated, then. I don’t want to be a nuisance.”
*
Henry Eustace was quite different from Fellheimer: of medium height and stocky build, with a round slightly florid face, bald on top with red hair at back and sides. Something about the way he moved gave Ralph the impression that he knew how to take care of himself.
They shook hands and walked through the spinney. Emerging from the trees, Ralph veered towards Thyrsis. For a few moments Eustace brightened up. The idea of a leading academic working on a narrowboat caused him some amusement.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me so soon, Ralph.”
“It’s good of you to come all this way.”
“I wanted to be sure we could be alone with no risk of being overheard.”
“So what brings you here at a few hours’ notice for a discussion in what some might describe as secrecy?”
“Guy Fellheimer has told you that I was, shall we say, discouraged from pursuing any enquiries relating to the remains found in the grave near the churchyard.”
“Warned off was the expression he used.”
“Quite.”
“And my guess is that you didn’t allow yourself to be discouraged.”
“These days there are so many avenues of enquiry that it isn’t really possible to block every one, if only because no individual can know every angle that might be examined.”
“You pursued the matter from another direction.”
“Yes.”
“I would’ve thought whoever was warning you off would have been aware of all your research activities.”
Eustace permitted himself a trace of smile.
“You know that my own field has recently been the fifth column in the second world war.”