Dying to Know (A Detective Inspector Berenice Killick Mystery) (12 page)

‘He
was here yesterday. Tobias. They both were.’ She passed him a mug of coffee, pushed the milk across to him, sat down opposite him.

‘Here?’

‘My husband invited them to lunch.’

‘Oh.’
He glanced at her, then down at his mug. ‘Brave man.’

‘Tobias
was talking about Nothingness,’ she said, ‘and gravity. He seemed very exercised by it. He said he argued with someone at the lab about it…’ She raised her eyes to him. ‘That wasn’t you, was it?’

He
shook his head. ‘No, that’s the Prof. Not me. I’m an underling.’ He smiled at her.

‘He
didn’t seem very happy about this man.’

‘No.
Alan is not the most, shall we say, empathetic of men. He makes no allowances.’ He took a sip of coffee. ‘The sooner we find Tobias something else to do, the better.’

‘He
danced. Yesterday.’

He
frowned. ‘Who? Who danced?’

‘Tobias.
He seems to know ballet.’

‘Ballet
– you mean, a dancer like you?’

‘Yes.’
She met his eyes. ‘Like me.’

His
eyes were still on hers. She looked away, fiddled with her mug. ‘He’s quite good. You wouldn’t think so to look at him.’

‘No.’

There was a silence. Liam stirred a spoon around in his coffee and she wondered whether she should have offered sugar.

‘And
then there was a row,’ she said, ‘well, kind of, about that stupid old book.’

‘What
book?’

‘Oh,’
she sighed. ‘Virginia gave it to us. I wish she hadn’t. It’s here somewhere…’ She stood up, lifted the book from the corner of the dresser, passed it to him.

He
leafed through the pages. She watched how he held it with care, how delicate his fingers were, more like an artist than a scientist, she was thinking, more like a dancer than someone who smashes atoms or whatever it was he did…’

‘What?’
He looked up.

‘I
was just wondering whether smashing atoms takes brute force.’

He
laughed. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It means staring at screens. A lot. That’s all. That, and doing sums.’ He handed her the book. ‘It looks extremely interesting. It quotes Newton.’

‘Yes,
that’s what Chad says. That’s why he’s so obsessed with it. I don’t know why Virginia gave it to him.’

‘Virginia
– Virginia Maguire?’ His gaze was intense.

‘It
belonged to her husband. She didn’t want it anymore.’

‘Murdo?’

‘It’s almost as if she knew that it was very him. I mean, my husband.’

‘Very
him? And him a clergyman?’

‘Yes.
These things are complicated.’

‘Clearly.’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘Of course, the quest to shed light on the workings of the universe might be seen to be religious. As Newton saw it. And a lot of his contemporaries.’

‘That’s
what Chad says.’

‘Even
now,’ he said. ‘Like Higgs Boson being called the God particle. Not that we call it that,’ he added.

‘And
what is there to find now?’

He
hesitated. ‘Well, our work. Super-symmetry, you see. Dark matter, CP violation…’ He glanced up at her. ‘There’s a balance, between matter, and anti-matter. And for every particle that’s matter, there is its opposite. And the whole thing is held in balance. But – ’ he said the word emphatically - ‘the odd thing is, there is a tendency towards matter rather than anti-matter. Otherwise there might just as well be nothing. But there isn’t nothing. There’s Something. So, yes, it does raise questions of why matter should “be” rather than “not be”. However, personally, as a physicist, I don’t think you need God as a cause for it all.’

‘You
explain it very well.’

He
gave a nod of his head. ‘Thank you.’

‘I
think, for my husband,’ she began, then stopped.

‘Different
ball game, isn’t it?’ He glanced at her. ‘I mean, sometimes, I suppose, I’m looking at the graphs and thinking, is this it, then? Is this how it looks, the One-ness of it all, the Hum of the Universe, the Great Vibration in the Silence that contains us all, even us tiny dots on a small planet at the edge of a minor galaxy…’ He was smiling now, a warm brown smile.

‘Go
on,’ she said.

‘And
then, I look at the graphs some more and I think, my job is to explain how, not why.’

She
sighed. ‘Whereas for Chad…’

‘Much
more complicated for him, I’d say.’ He met her eyes. ‘I only have to do the maths.’ He picked up his mug and stared into it, then put it down. ‘Funny that Murdo had that book,’ he said. ‘Perhaps your husband understands it better, though.’

‘I
don’t know where he is,’ she said.

There
was a silence in the room. Jonas the dog opened one eye, then closed it again.

‘Do
you want more coffee?’ She stood up.

‘No,
really, it’s fine.’

She
sat down again. She was aware of his eyes upon her as she gathered the mugs towards her. She could hear the rumble of the boiler as it clicked into life. Then a car, approaching, stopping, the bang of the car door, footsteps to the back door.

‘Here
he is – ’ she began. Jonas sprang up and went to the door, glancing back at his master.

‘Ah
– ’ came a voice. The door swung open, and Chad stood there. ‘There you are,’ he said. ‘And – ’

‘This
is Mr. Phelps.’ She got to her feet. ‘Doctor Phelps – Professor - ?’ Her eyes were on Liam.

He
smiled. ‘Liam,’ he said. He was standing up, his arm outstretched towards Chad. ‘I said I’d come to talk about Tobias.’

‘Ah,
yes, of course.’ Chad shook his hand, then bent to stroke the dog, who wagged his tail and then went to drink from the dish of water.

‘I’m
already running late…’ Liam began. ‘I don’t want to drag you away, but – ’

‘That’s
fine, that’s fine.’ Chad readjusted his coat, ready to go out again. ‘I had a meeting with the Archdeacon, went on a bit. Shall we go?’

Chad
glanced at Helen. She moved towards him, reached up to his collar, smoothed the lapels of his coat. It was a gesture that took them both by surprise.

‘We’ll
go in my car,’ Liam said. ‘That way I can leave old Jonas in there. I’ve learnt from past experience not to bring him anywhere near Mrs. Maguire.’

Helen
bent to pat the dog. Chad took a step towards the door.

‘I
have an idea,’ Liam was saying. ‘There’s a do at the lab this evening. A drinks thing. A sort of welcome to the new researchers. Why don’t you both come? Bit of a funny atmosphere there at the moment, of course…’ He stared at his feet. ‘Apart from this awful event, we seem to be a focus for hostility at the moment, and then there’s been some odd results, shall we say, all hush-hush at the moment…’ He looked up at them. ‘But we didn’t want to cancel it.’

Chad
glanced at Helen. She turned to Liam. ‘Thank you. We’d like to,’ she said.

‘Six-ish,’
he said, backing towards the door, his dog at his legs. ‘I’ll give your husband the details.’

Chad
squeezed her hand, then followed him out of the door. She heard their feet on the gravel path as they walked round the house to Liam’s car.

She
put the mugs in the dishwasher. She put the milk in the fridge.

We
never go to drinks ‘do’s, she thought.

She
touched her hand, where Chad’s had been.

Something
has changed, she thought.

In
her mind, she heard Liam’s voice. ‘Chopin,’ he’d said. ‘A dancer, like you.’

She
thought about the wide studio windows, the top one open, through which the music would have floated.

He
must have seen me at the
barre
. Before he rang the doorbell, he must have passed the studio.

She
sat down at the table. She placed her cool hands on her warm cheeks. Then she reached for Virginia’s book and began to read.

In the cottage, Virginia waited. An odd sort of clergyman, she thought. But Tobias took to him. Didn’t even mind him taking that book away.

Glad
to get rid of it, she thought. That poor woman, mired in a web of particles and hauntings and grief.

Not that anything is lighter now.

I
will not cry, she thought. All these years, I barely shed a tear. Not now.

She
stood up, rubbing her back, aware of a distant hum of a car engine.

15th
August
,
1922

‘
Still
writing
in
your
book
?
You’re
just
like
your
father
.
’
Gabriel
picked
up
his
fork
. ‘
I
hope
you’re
not
writing
about
the
same
things
.
’

‘
No
,
dear
.
Just
thoughts
.
’
Amelia
passed
him
the
dish
of
potatoes
.

‘
Your
father
with
his
Newton
and
his
Mercuries
.
And
his
need
for
a
Creator
too
…
’

Amelia
poured
gravy
onto
her
meat
.

‘
Guy
used
to
say
he
was
out
of
his
time
,
your
father
.
’

‘
Some
of
us
still
believe
.
’
She
spoke
quietly
.

He
looked
up
.
She
saw
his
deep
blue
eyes
,
his
shock
of
black
hair
, “
Welsh
looks
,”
Guy
used
to
say
,
she
was
never
sure
what
he
meant
,
the
Voakes
had
been
a
Kentish
family
for
years
…

‘
You
can
believe
if
you
want
.
If
it
helps
.
’

‘
It
does
help
,
’
she
said
.

‘
I’d
rather
have
truth
.
’
He
began
to
cut
his
meat
into
slices
.

‘
Guy
used
to
say
-
’
she
began
.

‘
Guy
?
Don’t
try
to
link
your
brother
with
your
so
-
called
faith
.
’