Dark Mirror (26 page)

A heart attack? A drug addict, even here? She tapped on the door. ‘Hello? Are you all right?’ Silly question. She thought she heard a faint moan, but the door was locked, so she hurried out to get help.

‘After that it all happened so fast,’ she told Brock, who was sitting opposite her, listening patiently. She felt he was a sympathetic interrogator, a still centre in the middle of the panic her discovery had provoked. ‘As soon as they opened the door I realised who it was.’

‘You knew her?’

‘Tina? Oh yes, I’ve met her here before. The first time she was lost—it was her first visit and she didn’t know her way around. She looked so young and bewildered I felt sorry for her. She was looking for the India Office Records, I remember, and though I hadn’t the faintest idea where they were, I did know how to set about finding them. After that we bumped into each other a few times. She was doing a research project for her university course—cultural studies, whatever that means.’

‘Did you ever see her talking to anyone else?’

‘Let me think . . . Yes, I did see her one day in the café in the forecourt—what they call the “piazza”—at the front of the library. She was with several other people. I took them to be university students too, but I’m afraid I can’t remember anything about them.’

‘You’ve been very helpful, Mrs Cribb. I’ll give you my card in case you think of anything else, no matter how trivial.’

His benign smile was like a blessing, she felt, but his eyes were very sharp.

•

Kathy was outside the main entrance of the library, in the forecourt Lily Cribb had described, by the café ominously called The Last Word. ‘One of the waitresses remembers Tina being here about an hour ago, at that table over there, and thinks she saw someone standing talking to her. A man, she thinks, but she’s not sure. No one else seems to remember anything, and there are no cameras covering the area where she was sitting.’

Brock looked around. The day was overcast, a sharp, cold wind whipping the people hurrying across the piazza. They were wearing scarves and hats, collars turned up against the chill. If Tina was poisoned here her attacker would have been captured on a
camera somewhere nearby, but it might be impossible to get an image of their face. ‘Where have they taken Tina?’

‘UCH,’ Kathy said, remembering that it was the same hospital they’d taken Nigel Ogilvie to. ‘At least we were able to tell them to look for arsenic poisoning.’

Behind them uniformed officers were trying to take statements and answer questions as people milled around in confusion, their routines disturbed by the dramatic arrival of ambulance and police cars. Brock drew Kathy aside.

‘Look, this changes things, Kathy. We now have a pattern—two women students in the same university department, until recently living in the same building. Maybe we’ve been sidetracked by the mysteries of Marion’s life. Maybe it’s more straightforward—another student, perhaps? Or someone who works at the student flats?’

Kathy thought about Andy Blake, the science student who had known them both. Had she accepted his story too readily? Or the disapproving Jummai? She said, ‘I had my money on their tutor, Dr da Silva.’

‘Hm. I think this is beginning to look like what Sundeep first feared, a serial psychopath who likes watching women die painful deaths in public view. Surely da Silva wouldn’t be so stupid as to pick his own students. Do we have his picture?’

‘I can get one sent over. So, I’m back on the case?’ Kathy said.

‘I don’t think you were ever off it,’ he replied dryly.

•

As Kathy moved away she saw Donald Fotheringham waving to her from a knot of people standing with the uniformed police. She went over.

‘Donald. You’re here too? Were you with Tina?’

‘Aye.’ He was pale, quivering with agitation. ‘Emily and I were with her over there, having lunch with her at the café. We left her on her own. I walked up the road to Euston station to find out about getting a train back to Glasgow. As I was coming back I saw the ambulance leaving the library. I never imagined it might be for her. What happened for pity’s sake? Nobody seems to be able to tell me.’

‘She collapsed, Donald. It looks very much like what happened to Marion.’

‘Oh, dear Lord.’

‘Show me where you were sitting.’

They went over to the café, surrounded now by police tape. A scene-of-crime team was unpacking their gear, a detective talking to a couple of waitresses.

Donald pointed out the place where they’d sat, the same table the waitress had said, and tried to recall the people at nearby tables without much success.

‘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.’

‘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.’