Saffron slumped back in her chair, stabbing a spoon into the bowl of sugar with a sigh. “Even if I did want to know him better, what would be the point? He’s off to explore a jungle in a few weeks.”
“Oh, you have a problem with a strapping young man fighting through the jungle while pining for you?” Elizabeth’s hazel eyes gleamed.
Saffron shook her head at her friend. Of course her anger had dissolved at the mention of a potential romance. “Don’t you think six months is rather a long time to string along a man you’ve known for a few weeks? What if he meets someone and cables me, ‘Never mind about all that. I’ve found a beautiful Amazonian to fall over.’ I would be quite crushed.”
“Bosh,” Elizabeth said with a snort. She poured the tea. “You would cry your heart out for a day and feel better the next. That’s precisely what you did after that nonsense with Archie Davis last year. Saff, you work at a university. It’s practically crawling with men who’d love to listen to you discuss the intricacies of pollination in tropical environs!”
Saffron couldn’t manage a laugh. All scientists were not created equally as romantic interests, as she’d discovered thanks to Archie. She’d thought she might have found a partner in more than just the romantic sense when the zoologist had done his very best to sweep her off her feet. That impression was short-lived. She could still hear his nasally voice encouraging her to “recant on this university business” and “take up her proper place with her family,” preferably with him in tow.
Alexander, though he was older and better qualified, had shown respect and even deference for her expertise in the short hours they’d worked together. Even when she’d acted a fool, blabbering about rain of all things, he’d taken it in stride. He’d reminded her of Wesley, who’d listened patiently to her describe every flower and leaf as a girl. But now she’d made what was likely to be too big of a mistake for Alexander to overlook.
Looking down at her cup of tea, Saffron sighed heavily. “I might have completely ruined it. It might not matter whether I like Alexander or not.”
Elizabeth looked at her friend thoughtfully. “Darling, if you had heard him on the telephone or seen his face when he walked into the flat, you wouldn’t be so worried.”
CHAPTER 9
Saffron decided not to go to the university that morning, not because she didn’t feel fully recovered yet, but because she was sure she’d go to pieces again on seeing Dr. Maxwell’s ransacked office. Avoiding Alexander was another benefit.
While the radio cranked out ballads and important-sounding voices recited important-sounding news, Saffron sat at the desk in the sitting room and wrote letters to her mother, grandmother, and cousin John. Her mother heard all about the dramatic poisoning at the party and Saffron’s speaking to the police. Her grandmother heard all about the party, the importance of which was exaggerated for her grandmother’s benefit. Neither of her grandparents were the least concerned about her work, apart from disapproving that she was working. Their relationship was, at times, precarious, communications having only just reopened in the last year, when Saffron graduated. They would perhaps be gratified to hear she’d dined with the Leisters. To her cousin John, whom she’d always been close to, as she had no siblings, she wrote about it all: the party, the police, the poisoning—though not the self-administered kind—and Alexander Ashton. John would appreciate her showing an interest in something other than plants for once.
A knock on the door right after lunch interrupted her just as she was affixing postage to the envelopes.
Saffron peered through the viewer. Her stomach twisted at the sight of Detective Inspector Green.
She let the inspector and Sergeant Simpson inside. They declined the tea and stood awkwardly in the sitting room until Saffron requested they make themselves comfortable. Watery afternoon light illuminated the space filled with books and magazines, all neatly in place after Elizabeth’s most recent cleaning. Inspector Green, sitting in an armchair, looked just as bland as she remembered, with his plain, dark brown suit and his unremarkable brown hair and eyes. The sergeant took up his usual position by the door, his rosy cheeks and fair hair almost comical beneath his domed helmet.
Saffron settled onto the couch opposite the inspector. She attempted to leave her unease out of her voice as she said, “How can I help you, Inspector?”
“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re feeling unwell, Miss Everleigh,” the inspector began, “but I had an interesting conversation this morning that I wanted to hear your opinion on. One of my sergeants came to me with news that Dr. Maxwell’s niece came to see him, and they had discussed, among other things, a bird with a foreign-sounding name.” His eyebrows lifted slightly. Saffron’s heart began to pound, but she arranged her face to look politely interested. “This niece was described as young, dark haired, and slim. Dressed in blue. I believe you wore a blue dress when I saw you at the university yesterday morning.”
“It is a common enough color, Inspector. I would think your wife owns several blue dresses herself.” Saffron held his gaze while waiting for him to pass judgment. She was quite sure she’d done nothing illegal, even if definitely dishonest.
After a long time, Inspector Green frowned and said, “I believe you took up the guise of a concerned niece. Seems to me that either you are trying to cover up your crime or assist someone in the completion of the business.”
Her eyes opened wide. “The completion of the business? Would that be finishing off the Henrys?”
The inspector shrugged. “As you say.”
She glared at him. Finishing off a woman she hadn’t even spoken to! “Inspector Green, I don’t know Mrs. Henry. I don’t work with Dr. Henry or know either of them personally. What motive would I have to harm his wife?”
“That is what I am trying to discover.”
Saffron opened her mouth and then closed it. She thought furiously, but nothing helpful came to mind. He’d hardly believe she was trying to discover the truth. She could give him the xolotl notes now, but the tone of the conversation was distinctly hostile, and she didn’t think it would be at all well received. Her suspicion was confirmed a moment later when the inspector spoke again.
“I’m given to understand that Dr. Henry has a fondness for young ladies.” The inspector stood from the armchair and walked a few paces, his steps muffled on the cream-colored carpet. From the mantle, he said, “Perhaps he caught your eye, and Mrs. Henry was in the way.”
Saffron nearly laughed but caught herself. No man, however handsome or charming, was worth that much trouble. Dr. Henry, a renowned flirt and philanderer, would be at the bottom of Saffron’s list, right next to Dr. Berking and his like.
“I can see you’re amused by my theory. Let me try another one.” The inspector’s eyes bore into hers. “A research assistant, hard-working and intelligent, goes to work in a department where her value is boiled down to her good looks, and her acceptance is predicated on her father’s reputation.” Saffron bridled atthose words but kept her mouth shut. “A professor takes her under his wing, a man she grew up knowing and admiring, and gives her opportunities that others won’t. Another professor, a bit of a brute, puts her down and harasses her. Rumors are spread, the kind that would end her young career.” Saffron’s stomach lurched. The inspector’s voice droned on smoothly, weaving his sordid tale. “The assistant goes to her champion. The professor has just been dealt a blow to his ego—he isn’t to go on the impending international expedition, the opportunity he needed to make his research relevant again. They are angry. They hatch a plan to eliminate both offending men in one blow, using a toxin they have on hand that is unidentifiable to anyone but them.”
In the silence that followed, Saffron struggled to analyze the theory as justly as she could, having just been accused of plotting murders. “That’s very good, Inspector, right up until the end. Am I correct in assuming that you’re suggesting Dr. Maxwell and I attempted to poison Dr. Henry?”
“Are you refuting it?”
Saffron’s brow pinched together at the careful tone. Her eyes wandered to the stack of letters on the desk. What would Inspector Green do if she telephoned her mother or grandfather and asked for them to send one of their solicitors? Her grandfather would likely make it impossible for her to stay in London, as he’d threatened to do countless times. This time, when faced with his granddaughter being accused of attempted murder, he would almost certainly follow through. She’d better find a way out of this herself.
She drew herself up and said calmly, “I don’t think I need to, but I shall now. A simple evaluation of facts will prove your theory incorrect.”
