The day had commenced more peaceably with Laura and Rupert meeting up with Tizz – as she was affectionately known by family and close friends – and her Uncle Fred in the beautiful gardens of the exclusively female Pelham College. The sun was shining and there was a bustle of activity as the students arranged their gowns and hoods and deployed a derangement of pins and brooches to try and sensibly keep the garments in place. Laura and Rupert were the invited guests of Tizz – better known by her real name of Emerald George. Emerald George had been in the public eye from the moment of her birth as the daughter of Hollywood actor Victor George and his aristocratic English wife, Lady Rose Thorley. Emerald’s father was part of a famous acting dynasty, her mother the daughter of Earl Thorley of Hampton and a renowned beauty. Having inherited her mother’s looks and her father’s talent, Emerald George’s celebrity was compounded by her appearance in the box office hit Barnstable when she was only eleven years old. After the phenomenal success of this film, Victor George’s career had sunk gradually into the doldrums until he finally decided to agree to the inevitable Barnstable: A Crime Revisited. By this time Emerald was sixteen and quite certain what she wanted out of life – and it didn’t include an acting career. It just so happened that, along with her already abundant gifts, Emerald had inherited the Thorley brains – which had bypassed her mother – and was much more interested in scholarship and mathematics than anything Hollywood had to offer. Unfortunately, the plot of her father’s film required a reprise of her role in the sequel. Somehow she had managed to cut a deal with her father that allowed her – on completion of filming – to finish her education at an English boarding school and go on to study at a university of her choice.
The sequel to Barnstable was a huge success and Victor George won his Oscar and Emerald George travelled to England to reside with her beloved uncle, Fred Thorley, who was currently Viscount Hampton. Fred was her mother’s much younger half-brother and only thirty years old. He was also heir not just to his father’s title, but also the Thorley tendency to reclusiveness and scholarship. His greatest pleasure was concocting excruciatingly difficult number puzzles and crosswords – and it was through their shared interest in crosswords that he had become acquainted with Rupert. As Rupert frequently went to stay with Fred, he soon got to know Tizz and encouraged both her and her uncle to contribute crosswords to his books. It was as a consequence of this friendship that Rupert and Laura had been invited to join Fred and Emerald for her graduation, her parents being otherwise occupied in the United States. Like Laura, Rupert was familiar with Cambridge, having been a student there himself. Unlike Laura, he had completed his studies and emerged with a creditable first. As the two of them watched Fred’s inept attempts at securing Emerald’s hood with a hairclip, the question of the classification of degrees had surfaced.
“Did you say that Tizz got a double first?” asked Laura, arranging her fascinator, which kept sliding down her silky hair.
“Yes, pretty effortless stuff for her,” Rupert allowed himself a warm glance at Emerald. Her luminous beauty, which was much praised for lighting up the cinema screen, was un-dampened by the sombre black of her academicals. Aware of her husband’s admiration for the younger woman, but confidently untroubled, Laura pursued her questions.
“I’ve never quite sorted out the Cambridge system of marking degrees – being a dropout myself.”
“Well, strictly speaking the degree does not have a class at Cambridge and is awarded to any student who scrupulously attends every term. In reality everyone attaches the mark from the final examination to their degree. That is why I can claim a first having made such a poor showing in my earlier exams. Tizz gets a double first by virtue of achieving a first in two sets of exams.”
“So what is a starred first?”
“If you get a first in every paper you sit – which, come to mention it, I thought Tizz did.”
“And she even found time to produce some crosswords for your new book.” There was a grudging respect in Laura’s voice.
“A pity her parents couldn’t come,” mused Rupert.
“I guess their presence would have caused too much of a fuss and taken the attention away from the students, which wouldn’t be fair.” Laura looked at the girls, just starting to form a vaguely orderly queue under the instructions of a college official with scarlet edging to her gown. The parents fell back to the periphery, waving and smiling at their offspring as they began the short walk into the centre of Cambridge. It was all very relaxed and informal as they followed the road, stopping the traffic. It was as the students finally approached the Senate-House that the photographers, straining to catch a picture of the modest and reluctant Emerald George, were rewarded by the spectacle of what looked to them liked a crazed fan leaping onto her and knocking her to the ground. A moment of confusion followed in which some well-meaning onlookers sought to restrain Rupert and to help Emerald to her feet. Emerald soon made it clear that, not only was she unharmed, but that her concern was for Rupert, who was bleeding profusely from the small cut to his arm.
“What happened?” she asked him, pushing her thick dark hair off her face and trying to staunch the bleeding from his arm with a silk scarf.
“I saw a person – it looked like they had a weapon.” Rupert was pulling away from Emerald and scanning the shop fronts for a sign of the assailant.
“What is going on? Are you all right?” It was the Praelector, Dr Alice Bean, who had been organising the young ladies at the College and was leading the procession. Her concern was obviously to get things moving again and she did not seem to notice Rupert at all. Fred too, who had been a little ahead of Rupert and Laura, came to check up on Emerald, a worried look on his fair and kindly face.
“I’m fine,” Emerald assured them both, as Rupert slipped off through the crowd. “Really; there isn’t a problem.” The Praelector gave her a cursory glance, which seemed to suggest that as her head was still clearly attached to her shoulders there was no possible reason not to continue with the ceremony, and hurried off to set things in motion again. Fred seemed more genuinely concerned and turned to Laura;
“What was all that about?”
“I don’t know,” admitted Laura. “Rupert saw someone. I’m not sure if they threw something or a shot was fired.”
“I didn’t hear a shot,” said Fred. “Was someone targeting Tizz or was it just a random object being chucked about?”
“I don’t think anyone would deliberately attack the students,” Laura reassured him. “Whatever it was, I expect that Rupert will get to the bottom of it. I think we might as well carry on with the others and wait until he catches up.”
Fred nodded, obviously wanting to follow Tizz and somewhat mollified. Laura, however, looked with a frown of concern after the now distant figure of her husband, but decided to carry on with Fred and the other parents and friends who were all talking animatedly amongst themselves. Sure enough, the young ladies of Pelham College continued on their way as the visitors filed into the Senate-House to take their seats. Laura followed the stocky figure of Fred up the stairs to sit in the gallery, firmly placing her handbag on the seat next to her for Rupert’s benefit. However, it was not until the ceremony was nearly finished that he arrived. He had missed the entrance of the Esquire Bedell bearing his mace, and the Vice-Chancellor’s deputy in her scarlet cope. He had also missed the moment when Emerald knelt down to have her degree conferred upon her and left the building clasping her certificate. There was quite a lot of Latin which he missed too – which was a pity because, unlike most of the audience, he might actually have understood it.
“Has she been up yet?” he asked in a whisper after clambering apologetically over people’s knees to reach Laura.
“Yes; just a minute ago. But we are nearly half way through and no clapping, so we should be out soon too.”
Rupert sat down and showed all signs of concentrating on the graduation ceremony. Laura, however, looked him over carefully and noticed that, as we
ll as having a blood stained scarf around his left arm, he had acquired a carrier-bag with some item concealed within it. Although curious, she decided to wait until they were outside again to question him. Fortunately the event was mercifully brief and one of the Esquire Bedells called them to order and everyone stood whilst the officials left in another procession. As soon as they could make their way down the stairs, the three of them went to find Emerald in Senate-House Yard.
The sun shone warmly and Fred quickly spotted Emerald amongst the throng of new graduates. He gave her a little wave and she came to join them. All around them families were posing proudly for photographs. Rupert indicated that he would use his camera and Emerald stood smiling next to her uncle. Although not especially tall herself, in heels she was on a level with Fred, whose diminutive stature and rather washed-out complexion was pure Thorley. A series of portraits of past Earls at Hampton Hall displayed the same pleasant, insipid face. It was a face that was only redeemed by the intelligent dark eyes which shone out. In comparison, Emerald’s beauty was vivid, with red lips, dark hair and deep blue eyes, and family portraits demonstrated that these looks came from her grandmother, Earl Thorley’s first countess, who had been a model. His second wife and Fred’s mother had been a distant cousin and childhood friend whom he married after ten lonely years as a widower. A few more photographs of the beaming Fred and the surprisingly shy Emerald were taken by Rupert and a couple of lurking press photographers took advantage of the moment too. Then Emerald indicated to her uncle that she wanted to move away before she attracted any more attention – not least because the state of Rupert’s arm was arousing curiosity - and the four of them started to make their way back to Pelham College where a reception was to be held.
“What have you got in that bag?” Laura asked Rupert at the first opportunity.
“A crossbow bolt,” said Rupert in a matter of fact voice, pulling out something that looked more like an arrow to Laura.
“Wow!” exclaimed Emerald, turning pale and looking suddenly confused, “is that the thing that hit your arm?”
“Luckily it only grazed me – this is a no-nonsense missile.”
“It could have killed her!” exclaimed Fred, as if only just realising the gravity of what had occurred. “Rupert, I think you saved Tizz’s life.”
“Yes; I don’t think that anyone else saw what happened properly or they might have called a halt to proceedings and brought in the police.”
“Just as well that didn’t happen – Dr Bean would have gone spare!” commented Emerald, whose pale face had now taken on a flush.
“But why would anyone try to hurt Tizz?” pursued Fred.
“She’s famous,” said Laura simply. “Unfortunately that may be all it takes to attract the attention of some crazy person.”
“Dad’s had problems,” admitted Emerald. “Hate-mail and threats and suchlike. Most of his fan mail is positive, although even some of the “I love you!” stuff can be pretty disturbing. I’ve never actually received anything threatening – at least, not that I know about – but I guess it does go with the territory. I’m hoping to be able to drop out of the limelight as time passes, but with the Barnstable sequel being so recent and such a success, I guess I’m stuck with a public profile for a while longer. There are action figure doll-things of me available at the moment; one of the girls in my corridor bought one to show me – it’s not possible for me to be unrecognisable with that level of publicity, which is why I never wanted to be part of the film. But dad wanted it, so...” Emerald shrugged helplessly.
“Perhaps we should tell the police: you may need protection,” said Fred looking anxiously at his niece.
“Give Rupert a chance,” said Laura gently. “I’ve never known him not to get to the bottom of any mystery – and it may be best if we can solve this one without it becoming newsworthy.”
“There were photographers present at the time,” said Rupert, “but no one spotted the crossbow bolt.”
“The use of a crossbow must be pretty unusual,” commented Laura. “Does that tell us anything about the person?”
“Not really,” Rupert replied with a shake of his head. “But make no mistake; this was a top of the range businesslike weapon. It amazes me that it is still possible for anyone over eighteen to buy such a weapon without the need for a licence or any form of registration. There’s all this fuss made about possessing knives at the moment, but a good crossbow is easily as dangerous as a gun and anyone can purchase one after a couple of minutes’ search on the internet.”
“But a hunting crossbow is a pretty big contraption,” said Fred. “Somebody must have seen who was holding it in a busy King’s Parade.”
“I saw it from a distance,” said Rupert. “But the person was standing in the shadows of a doorway and everyone was looking at the procession. I expect they put it quickly back into some kind of bag or hold-all. I didn’t know it was a crossbow straight away, I just caught sight of something odd and instinct told me that Emerald was the target.”
For a moment Laura thought from the expression on Emerald’s face that she was steeling herself to say something important, but in the end she just said, “Well, I’m very grateful – and we must do something about your arm when we get back to college.”
“It should be fine,” said Rupert dismissively. “But I will pop back to the car and put a jumper on so that I don’t look quite so much like the walking wounded.”
After Rupert had tidied himself up and they had all availed themselves of the Pelham bathroom, they made their way into Hadleigh Dining Hall where a buffet was set out. Having been purpose built as a women’s college in the nineteenth century, Pelham was not amongst the medieval colleges which are often considered typical of Cambridge University and certainly had nothing to offer to equal the architectural splendour of King’s College Chapel. However, it was a pretty and elegant example of Victorian architecture and what it lacked in history it made up for by being charming and welcoming. Long tables were laden with food and fresh fruit and the celebratory champagne flowed freely. Rupert, Laura and Fred took their glasses of champagne and settled in a quiet corner whilst Emerald was waylaid by various friends. When she eventually joined them she asked,
“Can I get you some food, Uncle Fred?”
“No, it’s all right; I’ll take a tour around the tables. The strawberries look good.” He got up and the others followed him, helping themselves to smoked salmon, salads, cold meat and a selection of vol au vents. When they were all seated again, Laura asked Emerald to point out notable members of the academic staff.
“We are possibly not the most distinguished college for mathematicians,” said Emerald “although as a Pelhamite it is sacrilege for me to say so, and you will notice that I am keeping my voice low. The colleges do vary in the quality of supervisions they offer and my school tried to persuade me to go to Kings, which boasts a couple of professors. Kings was a bit too prominent for me, however, and I have nothing to complain about here. Rose Tallford was my DoS – that’s her in the grubby looking dress with short dark hair. She was all right, but I preferred Eustace – Dr Neill – who was my acting DoS for a term when Rose had a sabbatical. To be honest, I tended to go to him for advice. That’s him over there helping himself to a mountain of food – the short man with the glasses. He really is a sweetie.”
Laura, who understood a DoS to be a Director of Studies, nodded with interest as she watched the two academics fill their plates. Further chat was prevented by the arrival of a couple of other graduates.
“Georgie says someone tried to shoot you – what’s that all about?” asked a rather dumpy blonde girl with cheerful unconcern.
Emerald shrugged. “Don’t know. Anyway, they missed.”
“Probably someone from the Assassins Guild or a LARPer,” commented her taller companion.
“This is my Uncle Fred,” Emerald said as her uncle came forward to hear what the two girls were saying. “Lucy is natsci and Georgie is another mathmo.�
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Fred smiled at the girls and rightly translated Emerald’s introduction to mean that one had studied science and the other mathematics. Another term, however, required explanation.
“What is a LARPer?” he asked.
“Oh, LARP is live action role-play – recreation of battles or fantasy battles, that sort of thing. Those are the guys who are likely to have a replica Cromwellian sword amongst their most prized possessions.”
“Or a crossbow?” asked Rupert, suddenly interested.
“Probably – I was never much into that sort of thing,” Lucy replied. “I know Gavin, who is into the Assassins Guild, but they are really strict about weapons and just use things like rubber band guns and pea-shooters. It’s all about the stealth, and even replica guns are a big taboo.”
“Yes, but some of them are plumb crazy,” added Georgie.
“Probably,” agreed Lucy. “But they are mostly nice guys. If they wanted to target you as a challenge they’d ask first and offer to buy you a pint for your troubles – and even then they would only use water balloons or flour.”
The Claresby Collection: Twelve Mysteries Page 16