The Ellie Hardwick Mysteries (15 page)

I got the first surprising enclosure up on screen. The inspector, I guessed, must have kept, all these weeks, an IT marker out on names he was interested in. I wondered briefly if my own had been on his list. I bet it had! And here, finally, was evidence that two names had sprung his electronic trap. It was a page from the ‘Daily Telegraph' of London, two days ago. The Court and Social page. Bemused but intrigued, I had read down to the end of the ‘Forthcoming Marriages' column before I saw it. ‘Professor Timothy Wickham-Skeith of
Oxford
and Ms. Paula Parrish of Godalming. The engagement is announced between . . .'

I summoned up the second attachment. Another print-out from an English paper. Yesterday's ‘Oxford Post'. The same information was on offer but with the accompaniment of a colour photograph of the happy pair. Tim was looking much younger, fit and tanned, I thought. Paula was looking up at him with glowing eyes. She had changed her green silk shirt for a vibrant pink one, to echo her romantic mood perhaps. The article ‘Love amongst the ruins' told how the bereaved professor had found consolation. Love had apparently blossomed under a fragrant frangipani tree in the ruins of the royal city of Fatepur Sikhri. Did this sound like the first beat on the drum of publicity? To my suspicious mind it did.

I remembered the determined figure on the lake path and thoughtfully took out the triptych of photographs. ‘Poor old Timothy! Poor old feller!' I thought. ‘Out of the frying pan . . .' And I knew what the inspector was urging me to do.

I hit the reply button and sent back a short message: ‘Action taken this day.' Then I found an envelope and slipped the three photographs inside. I added a note of the ‘thought this might be of some interest' type, signed it, copied the professor's address from the screen onto the envelope and stuck a first-class stamp
on
it.

He'd work it out. If he wanted to.