Dark Mirror

by Dark Mirror (epub)

  ‘I’ll show you some pictures later, Donald. Can you tell me what Tina had to eat and drink?’

  ‘Well, the sandwich I bought her—turkey breast salad, it was. And a black coffee. She already had a bottle of water she was drinking from.’

  ‘Okay.’ Kathy called over one of the SOCOs and passed this on. ‘Now, what about Emily? Do you know where she is?’

  ‘She said she was going back home. We’d spent the morning helping Tina with her researches, and I said I’d buy them both lunch before she left.’

  ‘You weren’t aware of anyone watching you this morning?’

  ‘Good heavens, no. Is that what you think, that he was watching us all the time?’

  ‘I just don’t know, Donald. Do you have a mobile number for Emily?’

  ‘Yes . . . here.’

  Kathy tried it, but got through to a recorded voice inviting her to leave a message. She asked Emily to get back to her as soon as possible.

  ‘Do you feel all right, Donald?’ she asked. ‘No nausea, stomach pains?’

  ‘No, nothing.’

  ‘We’ll get a medic to have a look at you. And Emily seemed okay when she left?’

  ‘Perfectly.’

  ‘How long ago was that?’

  Donald looked at his watch. ‘About an hour and a half ago. I should go to the hospital to be with Tina. She has no family in London.’

  ‘We’ll go together. I’ve just got a couple of things to do. Why don’t you take a seat over there and see if you can remember anything else?’

  She went back and had another word with Brock, then rang Sundeep Mehta’s number at the mortuary, knowing he wouldn’t answer his mobile if he was working on an autopsy. After a moment he came to the phone. She told him what had happened and heard his sharp intake of breath.

  ‘Where is she, Kathy?’

  ‘UCH.’

  ‘I’ll get over there straight away.’

  Kathy dug in her pocket for her notebook and found Sophie Warrender’s number. The phone was answered by her secretary Rhonda, who sounded almost as if she were expecting Kathy’s call. She put her through, and the now familiar voice said stiffly, ‘Sophie Warrender here. What do you want?’

  ‘I’m trying to contact your daughter Emily, Mrs Warrender. Do you know . . . ?’

  ‘Yes, she said you’d tried to ring her. I told her not to respond. I’ve spoken to your superior, and neither I nor any of my family have anything to say to you.’

  ‘She’s safely at home, then, is she?’

  ‘Safely? What are you talking about?’

  ‘There’s been an incident, this time at the British Library, around the time Emily was there today. I wanted to make sure she was all right.’

  ‘Incident?’

  ‘Another poisoning. Are you sure that Emily isn’t showing any signs of nausea or stomach ache?’

  ‘My God! I’ll get her to a doctor straight away.’

  ‘Good idea. Then I’ll need to come over to speak to her. It is very important.’

  Kathy returned to Donald Fotheringham, sitting beneath the statue of Isaac Newton in the centre of the forecourt, like a spindly caricature of the massive bronze that loomed above him, both crouching forward on their seats, brooding on their problems. A paramedic was packing a bag at his feet and nodded to Kathy as she came over, saying that Donald was in the clear.

  She led him to the car waiting outside on Euston Road, and they drove the short distance to the new blocks of University College Hospital. At the accident and emergency department they were told that Tina was in a coma, and they took a seat in a quiet corner to wait.

  ‘You said you were going to speak to Bessie about a wealthy relative leaving Marion some money,’ Kathy said.

  ‘Oh aye, I asked her. As I thought, she’d never heard of such a thing. That really doesn’t ring true, Kathy—is it all right if I call you that?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Well, Bessie’s theory, and mine too if I’m honest, is that Marion had found a sugar daddy. She was a bonny lass, no doubt about it.’

  ‘Yes, you’re probably right. A sugar daddy who wants to remain anonymous.’

  ‘Aye, well, Tina had her own ideas about that.’

  ‘Go on.’

  Donald Fotheringham hesitated, seeming torn between an innate love of gossip and a deadly sense of rectitude. ‘She seemed to have the idea that Marion’s tutor, Dr da Silva, was the fly in the ointment.’

  ‘Really. Did she have any evidence of that?’

  ‘I couldn’t say.’

  ‘So what was this work you were doing? You said you were following up Marion’s borrowing list.’

  ‘Aye, that’s right. Tina was convinced there was something hidden there that would lead her to Marion’s killer.’

  ‘But how? Did she give you any idea?’

  ‘No, she said I had to keep an open mind. I must say it all seemed a bit far-fetched to me. How could Marion’s studies of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood cause any problems today?’

  He took a notepad from his jacket pocket. ‘This was our most recent topic.’ He showed her a heading in capitals, underlined, followed by a string of references and notes: India Office Records—GENERAL SIR HENRY HAVELOCK ARCHIVE.

  Kathy stared at the title. ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘The hero of Lucknow, do you no’ remember your history?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘He was a great man, took part in the First Afghan War, then commanded a division in the Anglo-Persian War and returned to India in time for the Mutiny, where he relieved the siege of Lucknow and promptly died. There’s a statue of him in Trafalgar Square, which that wee leftie Ken Livingstone wanted rid of. Do you no’ remember?’

  ‘What did he die of?’

  Donald consulted his notes. ‘Dysentery, on the twenty-ninth of November, 1857.’

  The year Madeleine Smith was tried for murder, Kathy thought, but what was the connection? Something tugged at her memory.

  ‘What does this have to do with the Pre-Raphaelites, Donald, do you know?’

  ‘That’s what we were trying to find out. Marion had studied this archive, apparently, but Tina didn’t know why. She wanted us to go through every item. It was a collection of documents donated by the Havelock family to the library, apparently.’

  Then Kathy remembered one of the names on Marion’s list of key words: H. Haverlock. Of course, that’s why the name was familiar; the witness at Madeleine Smith’s wedding to George Wardle, although his name was spelled slightly differently from that of the soldier. Was that the connection?

  Kathy looked up to see Sundeep pushing through the door from the ward. He came over as she rose to her feet.

  ‘It’s arsenic all right,’ he said. ‘Just what I feared, a serial poisoner. Is it the libraries? Is that the connection? Dear God, you’ll have to close every library in the city. There’ll be panic.’

  ‘Maybe not, Sundeep. Tina was a friend of Marion’s, a fellow student. That’s more likely the connection. How is she doing?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t think she’s going to make it. The next hour will be critical, but even if she survives, they’ll keep her in a coma for a further twelve hours at least, so there’s nothing we can do here. They’ll let us know if there’s any change.’ He wiped a hand across his face. ‘I was going to phone you, about the audit at the university laboratory. We’re still checking some of the details, but it looks pretty clear that their security is tight. The only lapse we’ve found concerns Dr Ringland. Every time one of the experimenters withdraws a dangerous chemical from the store they have to get their order countersigned by Dr Ringland or his deputy. But the heaviest user of arsenic is Dr Ringland himself, for his experimental work, and he doesn’t always get a countersignature from one of the others. It’s an understandable lapse—I’m sure I’d have done the same myself. As the person ultimately responsible for laboratory security he would have regarded himself as above suspicion.’

&nb
sp; ‘What does he have to say?’

  ‘He can account for every requisition. The trouble is, we only have his word for it.’ Sundeep checked his watch. ‘I have to get back. Let me know how things develop, won’t you?’

  Kathy returned to the seat beside Donald. He looked at her anxiously and she shook her head and told him what Sundeep had said. Then she added, ‘What about Emily? Do you think Tina talked to her about what she was searching for?’

  He sighed. ‘It’s possible, I suppose. The two of them were more on the same wavelength than me. I just followed Tina’s instructions, but Emily had suggestions of her own. Do you think she’s in danger too?’

  ‘Not if I can help it. I’m going to speak to her now, Donald. Do you want a lift anywhere?’

  ‘No, I’ll stay here.’

  ‘Okay. Give me a ring if there’s any change.’

  •

  Sophie was waiting for her when she arrived, tense and anxious. They stood in the hallway, talking in low voices.

  ‘They say Emily is all right, thank goodness. What on earth is going on, Inspector?’

  ‘Tina collapsed after lunch, and has been taken to University College Hospital. She’s in a coma, and her condition is critical. It does seem like a repeat of what happened to Marion. Emily was with her just before it happened, so I need to speak to her.’

  ‘Very well, but I insist on being with my daughter when you speak with her.’

  ‘Certainly, if Emily’s happy with that.’

  Sophie led the way into a lounge with a large TV screen at one end. Emily was sitting staring at the blank screen. She jumped to her feet as they came in. ‘What’s happened? What’s going on?’

  Kathy repeated what she’d told her mother, and shock filled Emily’s face. ‘But . . . how?’

  ‘We’re waiting for tests to be completed, but it does appear as if she was poisoned in much the same way as Marion.’

  Emily clapped a hand to her mouth and gave a choking sound.

  ‘We think it may have happened at the café where you had lunch together. So you haven’t felt any symptoms yourself ?’

  The girl shook her head. Her face was pale and she looked as if she might pass out. Her mother went to her side on the sofa and put an arm around her.

  Emily looked up at Kathy, tears filling her eyes. ‘Is she dead too?’

  ‘The doctors are fighting to save her. They had a better idea what to do this time, but I’m afraid things don’t look good.’

  ‘I should go to her.’

  ‘She’s in a coma. There’s nothing we can do at the moment. What’s important is to make sure you’re all right, and for you to tell me anything that might help us.’

  Emily stared anxiously at Kathy. ‘Didn’t Tina say anything?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  Emily rocked forward on the edge of her seat, arms clutched around herself, shaking her head. ‘I can’t remember anything special. We were with Donald. He wanted to buy us lunch before I left to come home.’

  ‘Who is Donald?’ Sophie demanded.

  ‘Oh, this man who knows Marion’s aunt. He wanted to help us.’

  Sophie looked at Kathy in alarm. ‘How do we know he knows her aunt, for goodness’ sake? Are you questioning him?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve already spoken to him. That’s how we knew Emily was there. Can you remember any of the people that were sitting nearby, or passed you in the café?’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s just a blur.’

  Kathy talked her back through the events of the morning, working forward again to their going to the café. ‘You’re sure you can’t remember anyone looking at you, following you? Perhaps someone that Tina may have known?’

  Something seemed to register with Emily. She gave a little frown, then said slowly, ‘I did notice someone. I’d seen him there before, at the British Library, a day or two ago. He didn’t approach us, but I did have the feeling that Tina recognised him.’

  ‘What did he look like?’

  ‘Oh, quite respectable. Dark hair swept back. Um . . . in a suit, I think.’

  ‘I’ll get you to look at some photographs for me, but meanwhile, it might save a little time . . . You remember that biography of Rossetti we spoke about this morning, Mrs Warrender?’

  ‘The da Silva book?’

  ‘Yes. I wonder if I could have a look at your copy?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Please. I’ll explain when you bring it.’

  Sophie hesitated, then rose to her feet. ‘All right, but don’t say a word until I get back, Emily.’

  When she had gone, Emily gave Kathy a weak smile. ‘Would you like anything, a cup of tea?’

  ‘No thanks. What about you? A glass of water?’

  ‘I’m all right.’

  Sophie returned, handing Kathy the book.

  ‘Thank you.’ Kathy turned to the inside flap of the back cover, and showed Emily the author’s photograph.

  The girl gave a start. ‘Oh! Yes, I think . . . It does look like the man I saw. Who is it?’

  ‘Dr da Silva is a teacher on Tina’s course,’ Kathy said carefully. ‘Did Tina mention him to you?’

  ‘Yes, and Marion too. I just didn’t know what he looked like.’

  ‘What did Tina say?’

  ‘Oh, that she didn’t trust him, that Marion had had a problem with him. That sort of thing.’

  ‘Yes, well, it’s natural that he would be in the library, and he’s one of the people we’d want to establish as a possible witness.’

  ‘I see.’

  Neither of them looked convinced by Kathy’s explanation, and she went on, ‘I’d like you both to treat this conversation in confidence for now. We’ll be talking to him, among many others. Can you remember exactly when you saw him before?’

  ‘Not really. Probably Tuesday. Yes, I think Tuesday afternoon.’

  ‘All right. So, how did you come to be helping Tina?’

  ‘Well, it was when we gave her a lift after we met with you at Marion’s house. You remember, Mum?’

  ‘Yes, you said you’d helped Marion from time to time, and Tina asked about what you were going to read at Oxford, and when you said you had spare time at the moment she invited you to help her doing her library searches.’

  ‘That’s right. I was quite keen, as least to try it for a few days, just to get an idea about her work. Only, well, I think the main reason she asked me was to pump me about what I’d been doing with Marion.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘I didn’t realise at first, but what she was researching wasn’t her own university studies. She was trying to retrace what Marion had been doing in the weeks before she died. She seemed to feel that would explain what happened to her.’

  ‘But how could it do that, darling?’ Sophie said. ‘Did she say?’

  ‘She thought that Marion had discovered something really important. Something that would have a huge impact.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘I think—it’s only what I guessed from listening to her—I think it had something to do with him.’ She pointed at the cover image on da Silva’s book. ‘Dante Gabriel Rossetti.’

  Sophie sat up sharply. ‘Oh . . . my God.’

  Kathy said, ‘What is it, Mrs Warrender?’

  ‘Well, it seems rather obvious, doesn’t it? Anthony da Silva is the leading world authority on Rossetti, and Marion was his student, with whom he often quarrelled about her theories and interpretations. Suppose she discovered something catastrophic about his research? It wouldn’t be the first time that the reputation of a leading researcher has been utterly destroyed, the academic world turned on its head, by a discovery—of plagiarism, say.’

  The same thought had already occurred to Kathy, and she said, ‘Do you think Tina might have discovered something like that, Emily?’

  ‘It’s possible, I suppose. She didn’t tell me if she had.’

  ‘And how did she seem today?’

  Emily frowned. �
��She wasn’t herself. Something was worrying her. The books she wanted weren’t available and she was very agitated. Donald and I tried to cheer her up, but she got angry.’ She wiped her eyes.

  ‘So,’ Sophie said, turning to Kathy. ‘What are you going to do now?’

  ‘I’d like to take Emily back to my office to look at photographs of some other people.’

  ‘And then what? I mean, she may be in danger too, don’t you think? In fact she could also have been an intended victim this lunchtime.’

  ‘I’ll make sure she gets back safely, and then it might be as well if she stays at home for a few days.’

  Sophie reluctantly agreed to let her daughter go, and Kathy drove her back to Queen Anne’s Gate and sat her down with a cup of tea while she prepared a set of identification photos. Apart from Tony da Silva, which she confidently picked out, she hesitated over one other, Keith Rafferty, frowning, then shaking her head.

  ‘Maybe not,’ she said.

  ‘But a possible?’ Kathy prompted, trying to sound neutral. ‘Could you have seen him with Dr da Silva, for instance?’

  Emily thought about that, then shook her head. ‘Sorry, no, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that he looks like every thug you’ve ever seen on the news.’

  While she was there, Kathy drew up a statement summarising what Emily had said for her to sign, then arranged for a patrol car to take her back to Notting Hill. As it drew away Kathy saw Alex Nicholson step out of a cab and hurry towards her.

  ‘Brock phoned me with the news, Kathy,’ she said. ‘I came as soon as I could.’

  twenty-one

  They gathered in one of the smaller offices, with a window overlooking a small courtyard at the back of the building. ‘It’s quieter in here,’ Brock said. ‘We need to be able to think. There’s a mood of panic setting in. I have to decide whether we should close every library in the city.’

  He described to Alex what they knew of the circumstances of Tina’s collapse and what they were now doing, gathering witness statements and camera material at the British Library and beginning interviews with all Tina’s friends and student acquaintances that they could trace. As Kathy was adding what Donald Fotheringham and Emily Warrender had told her, Dot put her head round the door and handed Brock a note in her neat script, which he read out. ‘Officer on duty at UCH reports Tina Flowers pronounced dead this afternoon at 1606. Autopsy first thing tomorrow.’