Knights Park campus smelt of recently washed floors that pervades most public buildings and that of turpentine, not surprising since it was after all an art school. The students strolled between classes, some with portfolios clutched tightly under painfully stretched arms, many dressed in a manner that befitted their image of the sartorial garb of artists who lived in Paris garrets. No doubt they had read Somerset Maugham or Oscar Wilde, debated the dictates of Ingres that formal drawing was a required skill for the true artist, and dreamt of the romantic life ahead. A knock on Professor Sarah Winton’s office door and being told to ‘come’ would soon shatter any dreams they might have.
“Oh, it’s you. I only have a half hour break before my next tutorial, so you will need to make this quick.”
Ralph was taken aback by Sarah’s appearance. The last time he saw her she had been neatly dressed, sun tanned, attractive and confident. Now her face was puffy and she had obviously used make-up to cover a black eye, but it was still obvious that she had what used to be known as ‘a shiner’. She was upset about something and her hand shook as she closed an email she had been working on. He decided to dispense with the niceties and tell her about his visit to St Petersburg and what Maria had told him about promoting Paul Scott Security for the shipping contract. When he had finished she sat back and clasped her hands together.
“Well, I just happened to be talking and it came up, so I recommended Paul. It’s not a big deal you know. He’s just a friend. I’m surprised you don’t have something better to do with your time. You seem to be hell bent on turning everything into a source for your conspiracy theories. She turned her back on him and reached for a book.
Ralph controlled the urge he had to snap back, partly because he could see that she was obviously under a lot of stress and partly because he prided himself on his self control. He recalled occasions when he had come out of a teaching session so wound up that he would have flipped if confronted by a colleague on something unconnected with his immediate concerns. Perhaps it would have been better to have suggested that they met in the bar for a drink at the end of the day, he thought. That way at least they might be relaxed and off air, so to speak. But he was already there so he decided to press on.
“The reason I wanted to talk to you, Sarah, was because I feel that I must tell Inspector Linham that Paul Scott Security will be bidding for the contract to ship the Walpole collection to England. I’m convinced that someone is trying to swap one or more of the originals in the collection for Grant Richardson’s copies. Inspector Linham should be informed, especially as his office is now investigating that shooting on the M25 of one of Scott’s drivers. The mafia could even be involved. And then there is Ivan’s murder. I just thought I should let you know before I contacted the police. I didn’t want you to think I was going behind your back.”
Sarah stared at him as though he had struck her.
“Let’s go downstairs and have a coffee,” she said quietly. “I have something to tell you.”
The campus was quite small, but it had a pretty garden only a few meters outside the refectory overlooking a small stream, and it was quiet. Sarah suggested they take their coffees there where they could have some privacy from prying eyes and ears. As expected it, was off limit to students and was solely the preserve of the staff. They sat on one of the benches and enjoyed the early spring sunshine and the sound of the running stream and the birds. Sarah appeared to have recovered her composure as she surveyed the idyllic scene.
“It’s a pretty spot, don’t you think? It’s the Hoggs Mill River. It certainly proved a winner for John Everett Millais. His painting of Ophelia is in the Tate Gallery and purported to be worth 30 million pounds. You may have noticed his statue outside the Tate Modern. You probably remember that speech by Queen Gertrude in Shakespeare’s Hamlet about Ophelia lying in the stream singing until her dress filled with water and she drowned. Well he painted it not far upstream from here. He also did the one of Bubbles that’s now used in that soap commercial and the one of The Boyhood of Raleigh that hangs in every school hall.” Ralph remembered that the history of art was her subject, and her love of it shone through and talking about it seemed to have a soothing effect on her. It was a side of her he had not seen before. Once she focused on her subject she was interesting and almost charming, but he had seen her become mean and defensive when she was not totally in charge. She leant forward.
“I saw you trying not to look at my eye. Well I did a silly thing and bumped into a door as I was getting off the Metro in St Petersburg. It looks a lot worse than it is. So no conspiracy theories there, I’m afraid.”
“It’s hardly noticeable,” Ralph lied.
“Seriously, Ralph, I do appreciate that you came to tell me before you spoke to Linham about that shipping contract. I expect that you’ve heard the gossip around the place that I had an affair with Paul Scott a few years back. My husband never managed to get any actual proof, but he suspected something. When his holding company took over Paul’s firm he put a lot of pressure on Paul to make more profit or else he would sell it to a big company. That would mean Paul losing his job and everything he had worked for all his life. So whenever I was in a position to help Paul get work I put in a good word. It was convenient because I get around to most of the big art shows and conferences where I meet curators of museums. So I don’t want the police to go stomping around in my business; and of course if they told my husband that I had been helping Paul, he would consider that proof enough of my infidelity and probably even ask for a divorce. And my Dean would not appreciate my spending college time drumming up business for my lover,” she added, trying to make light of it, although Ralph suspected it was more to cover up her real feelings. He could see that she was close to tears.
“Well I wouldn’t want to put you in a difficult spot, but it is possible that Scott’s firm is mixed up in some shady dealings, especially if he is in financial trouble. And that shooting of one of his drivers could be some sort of gangland revenge or an attempt to warn him off.”
“Not a chance. Look, I’ve known Paul for a long time. The rumors about our affair are true, not that I’m proud of it. It was a stupid mistake, no doubt brought on by midlife crisis or whatever it is women go through when they start to feel they are not as attractive as they once were. In any event, that is water under the bridge, although we have remained friends. But I do know Paul Scott very well and I can assure you that he is one of the few honest men that I have come across.”
Ralph ignored the challenge. But he was seeing Sarah in a new light. Her husband, or even Paul Scott for all he knew, may have been responsible for her black eye. Scott could just be using her to get work for his company. It happened all the time. He also wondered if she had been overly confident in her ability to mix with heavy handed characters and had got into some deep trouble. But before he could probe any further he noticed that Sarah was now starting to look at her watch and she explained that she need to get back for her next tutorial.
“Look, Sarah. I will have to tell Linham what Ivan’s sister told me about the phone calls and her suspicions. As for Scott’s bidding on the haulage of the paintings, I would not feel comfortable about keeping that from the police, given the circumstances. But I will ask Linham to use his discretion about your relationship with Paul Scott if he has to speak to your husband. As you say, it was a long time ago.”
Sarah stood up and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Thanks, Ralph. I knew I could rely on you. I hope that eventually we can also be friends. I’m sorry that I have to dash off like this. Ciao. Oh, and by the way, the place is buzzing with rumors about you and your former colleague, Katie Eggerton.” With that she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek before getting up and heading off to her class.
Ralph wondered what all the fuss was about him and Katie. Of course everyone at the college knew of her involvement in the incidents at the college that had resulted in her going to prison, but surely they realized t
hat he wouldn’t have dropped her as a friend because of it. And surely they must also realize that he would want to help her out by giving her some work, now that she was not in a position to return to the University. He appreciated that Katie was a smart and attractive woman, he wasn’t blind after all, but surely there was no reason for anyone to presume that their relationship was other than above board. He finished his coffee while he telephoned Inspector Linham on his mobile phone.
The Inspector was happy to get a time-frame on the events of the day of the murder. Rabinsky’s phone records had already shown that he made a call to Russia at 5pm on the day he was murdered, but Linham was more interested in what Rabinsky had told his sister about the two visitors and their attempts to interfere with his report on the evaluations.
***
Ralph had arranged to meet up with Peter, David and Lance that evening at the Gypsy Hill bar to catch up on things. When he walked in Peter was in his usual stance leaning on the bar regaling David and Lance with his latest row with administration.
“Can you believe the petty minded lot we have to deal with here? I had six delegates from the Beijing Academy of Music here yesterday and wanted to extend the usual hospitality. You know, taxi from the airport, lunch, and bits and pieces. These chaps were on a cultural exchange and wanted to see what we could offer their students. Before they left they signed a deal to send 15 of their top students here next year. I went to admin and they refused to sign off on my expenses just because I didn’t have prior approval. The buggers said that I had to pay for it out of my own pocket. I give up.” He thumped his fist down on the bar.
“Look Peter, we all have to play by the rules,” interjected David.” You know how they are about expenses that haven’t had prior approval, so if you will forge ahead without it, you have to pay the consequences.”
“After all, it isn’t for my benefit. The University will reap the benefits of the association,” he went on, ignoring his friend’s remark.
“You may have more in common with your idol Mozart than we suspected,” David chided. “You both throw a fit when you aren’t rewarded for acting like a prima donna.”
“Hmmmph,” Peter retorted as he reached for his beer.
“You Brits certainly know how to whinge,” said Lance. Somehow I thought you might be more concerned about who attacked poor Cynthia last night.”
Ralph turned to Lance. “What’s this about Cynthia? You mean Cynthia Harper?”
“Yes. She was finishing up some paperwork and had started to set the alarm system for the night when she heard a noise from the picture gallery. She says she saw some guy by the door and he lunged at her; knocked her down and broke her arm. The hospital checked her out for any other injuries. She’s seems okay physically, apart from the arm, but she’s still quite shaken. I guess the police went round this morning to get a statement.”
At the mention of yet another break-in at Dorich House, Ralph’s theories about the mafia, picture swapping and Rabinksky’s murder didn’t seem so far-fetched after all. Either someone wanted to find out more about those paintings or was making a determined attempt to steal them for use in a swap for those at the Hermitage. He reckoned that after the failed attempt at Rabinsky’s workshop, this was a last desperate effort before they went to auction in Paris. Lance looked at Ralph.
“Sorry, Lance. It was just that a lot of things have been whirling around in my mind about the paintings that are at Dorich House. It’s awful that she should be attacked. I don’t know her all that well, but I do know her and she is a colleague. How did you find out about it? No one mentioned it to me, but then I guess I haven’t really been in the loop since I’ve been on sabbatical.”
David and Peter expressed their concern as well.
“But how did you hear about it?” Peter asked as he apologized for going on about his little tussle with admin which seemed pretty insignificant when compared to an attack on one of their colleagues.
“We had arranged to go to lunch together today, but when I got to Dorich House it was swarming with police. They told me what had happened, or at least in so far as they knew or were willing to say.”
“I thought I heard a bit of skuttlebuck about you and Cynthia,” Peter chimed in. “Must say you surprise me. The sensible shoes and the tweedy outfits don’t exactly turn heads, old chap.”
“Well, that’s strictly when she’s on duty,” Lance replied. “The uniform, you know. We all have them. Pinstripes for the lawyers and baggy jackets with patched elbows for us academics. I would hate to think we were stuck in the mold that way! But believe me, there’s a real woman underneath it all.”
“So are you telling me you and Cynthia have a thing going?”
“I wouldn’t tell Marcia or Mary to run out and buy new hats just yet, but yes, Cindy and I have been seeing a bit of each other. She spent some time in New Zealand and we both like Rugby football. We went to see the England versus Kiwis game only a few weeks ago. She’s really quite a girl once you get her away from that creepy museum.”
Ralph could see that Lance was quite taken with his new girlfriend. But Peter was not going to let sentimentality spoil his evening. Doting swains were not his favourite companions.
“At least you get to chauffeur her around while her arm mends,” Peter quipped. “Are you sure you didn’t hire someone to put her out of commission just so you could get behind the wheel of that snazzy BMW of hers for a few weeks? I saw you gunning up Kingston Hill in it the other week. Top down. Open road ‘toot’ ‘toot’. Reminded me of the ‘Toad of Toad Hall’ or did you not get around to Wind in the Willows in your misspent childhood?”
“It’s a good job that I know you, Peter. You’d get a sock on the jaw if you spoke about a bloke’s girl like that in New Zealand,” Lance said with a good humoured laugh.
“Whatever is going on, someone really wants to get at those pictures. I expect that the VC is having a fit about all of this, and Granger probably wishes that it was all happening somewhere else,” said Ralph.
He explained to his friends what had happened on his visit to St Petersburg and how Rabinsky’s sister had told him about the pressure that was being put on Ivan before he was murdered. They especially appreciated his story about being abducted and how he and Katie had to jump out of a moving car to escape.
“Anyone who gets involved with the mafia or organized crime will eventually pay the price,” interjected David.”
“I doubt it,” Peter retorted. “All that business about ‘crime doesn’t pay’ is just so much malarkey. It certainly seems like it pays big dividends in the world of art theft at least. Besides, the authorities and the lawyers are like as not in cahoots with the criminals half the time.”
“So are you saying that us lawyers are probably criminals just for being lawyers and all of us are criminals when we act on behalf of the University?” said David, knowing that Peter was really only sounding off.
“Well, perhaps that is overstating it a bit,” Peter relented.
Lance was more concerned about Cynthia than in Peter’s moralizing.
“When I spoke to Cindy she was relieved because some bloke called Richardson was coming down from Cambridge today to arrange for his paintings to be packed up and shifted off to Paris for auction. So let’s hope that will mean that the criminals are no longer interested in those damn paintings in Dorich House.”
“Funny thing, Lance, Katie and I are off to Paris as well. We’ve had an invite to meet some people at the auction who might be interested in links to the University. So we’ll be seeing those paintings at least one more time. Richardson hopes to make a fortune from the sale. That is, assuming of course that the mafia don’t intercept them enroute.”
His three pals gave each other a knowing look when Katie’s name came up, but Ralph pretended not to notice.
It was getting late and, as was usual, Ralph offered to give Peter a lift home. They drove through the darkness, disturbed only by the blue glow of the lights from the d
ashboard when Ralph realized that Peter had just said something.
“Sorry, old chap, I guess I was off in my own world. Did you ask me something?”
“Just wondering what was up with you and Katie. You seem to be thick as thieves these days; first St Petersburg and now Paris. Next thing we know you will have booked an around the world cruise on the Queen Mary.”
“You know how difficult it’s going to be for her to find any work after that unfortunate mess she got herself in to. I had the opportunity to give her some work as my assistant while I’m on this sabbatical since it’s not funded by the University, and part of the arrangement is that I am free to hire an independent contractor; I just thought I could give her a bit of a boost. Besides, she speaks fluent French and a surprising amount of Russian, and that was a big help when we were in St Petersburg, so she is turning out to be quite an asset. And she is a friend and a colleague, after all. I’d do the same if it was you or David or Lance who needed a bit of help and it was in my power to provide it,” Ralph replied, perhaps just a bit defensively.
They had been friends long enough for Peter to know when it was time to back off. He had a feeling that Ralph’s interest in Katie went a bit beyond just wanting to provide a professional helping hand. But knowing Ralph, he probably wouldn’t know it himself if it hit him on the head.
Ralph negotiated the slip-road onto the motorway. Peter was surprised when Ralph picked up the thread of the conversation once he moved into the far lane where he could cruise along comfortably.
“We do seem to get on great, but at times she seems to want to take charge of everything, and you know me, I’m a bit set in my ways. And then there’s my sailing. And Katie’s not the sort of woman who would be happy to sit at home while I was out there going for it. And I enjoy getting away, seeing new places, meeting new challenges. You know what I mean. Perhaps I’m afraid I’ll lose some of my freedom if I got involved with anyone other than on a strictly professional basis.”
The Dorich House Mystery (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 3) Page 11