In Love And Murder, page 22
‘I’m so sorry,’ he murmured. ‘So very sorry. I feel that this is all my fault somehow. If only I knew what really happened that night…’ He glanced up at Bridget. ‘This other girl, Miranda, was she strangled too?’
‘I’m afraid that I can’t tell you that right now.’
‘No, no. Of course not. Foolish of me to have asked.’
‘Dr Frost, I have to ask you, where were you this morning between eleven and twelve?’
Miranda had left the phone message just after eleven o’clock, and it had been nearly midday by the time Bridget and Ffion had discovered her body.
‘Between eleven and twelve? Um… well, I was here in my room.’
‘Can anyone vouch for that?’
Frost shook his head sadly. ‘No. I didn’t have any tutorials during that time. I was alone.’
‘Did you leave your room at any point, to go to the Senior Common Room, for example?’
‘I avoid going there these days. The other tutors, you know, they…’ He tailed off miserably.
‘I understand,’ said Bridget. ‘This must be difficult for you.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, that’s right. You’re the first person to…’ He stopped again, his forehead frowning in concentration. ‘No one understands. They all think I did it. And now… this second murder… I won’t be able to show my face.’
‘Miranda telephoned me shortly before she died,’ said Bridget. ‘She told me she had guessed the identity of Gina’s killer. Do you have any idea who she might have suspected? Did you speak to her at all since the party?’
‘Speak to her?’ Frost stared at Bridget in alarm. ‘Good gracious, no. I wouldn’t have dared go near her, not after … no, I’m sorry, I have no idea. It’s not like I haven’t been thinking about that question myself, you know. In fact, I’ve been struggling for days to remember something that might provide a clue.’
Bridget had the impression that Frost had more to say. ‘And have you remembered anything?’
‘Well, yes, I’ve started to have flashbacks. Things come to me, sometimes when my mind is elsewhere. Fragmented images, mostly. Nothing conclusive.’
‘What sort of images?’
‘I remember something that Gina said to me at the party. You shouldn’t be here. I have a feeling she was speaking to someone else, but I don’t know who. But I do recall some of the masks people were wearing. There were a number of Pierrots, and several cats. And I’m sure there was a jester too. The designs come from the Venice Carnival, you know. Most of them go back centuries. They derive originally from the commedia dell'arte tradition.’
Frost was beginning to display a typical academic’s enthusiasm for quirky historical facts and tangential details. Bridget’s own History tutor, Dr Irene Thomas from Merton College, had always had a fascination for the darker aspects of the human experience and had recently given Bridget an extensive guide to Jacobean revenge tragedy while she was working on another murder case. Bridget suspected that if she let him, Dr Frost would now start expounding on the significance of different sorts of Venetian masks. Fascinating though that might be, she didn’t have time for it now.
‘Have you remembered anything else?’ she asked.
‘I remember the stairs.’
‘What about them?’
‘They were carved from dark oak. The newel post was in the shape of an acorn. I remember standing next to it, being intrigued by the skill that had been required to produce such an elaborate piece of craftsmanship.’
‘Anything else?’ asked Bridget, beginning to wonder if the man was simply trying to waste her time.
‘I was tired. I was feeling sleepy after someone gave me the…’
‘Rohypnol,’ prompted Bridget.
‘… yes, the sleeping drug. I remember wanting to lie down, so I went upstairs.’
Bridget waited patiently, but Frost seemed to have stopped. ‘And then what?’
‘Nothing,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Try as I might, I can’t remember anything after that. Not until I woke up.’
Bridget tried not to show her frustration. ‘Keep trying,’ she told him. ‘And call me if you remember anything else. Anything at all.’
*
Poppy Radley was in her room, being looked after by a female police constable. When Bridget arrived, she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a mug of tea in her hands, and a look of indescribable misery on her face. She glanced up at Bridget and her lower lip began to tremble.
The constable leaned forward with a box of tissues, and Bridget deduced from the mound of soggy tissues already in the wastepaper basket that this wasn’t the first time Poppy had broken down in tears since learning of Miranda’s death.
A cry emanated from her now, and she buried her face in her hands. Bridget sat down next to her on the bed and waited until the wailing had subsided into a quiet sob before speaking.
‘Poppy, I’m so sorry about what’s happened. But I need your help if we’re going to catch Miranda’s killer. Can you tell me if you saw Miranda any time this morning?’
Poppy gave her nose a blow, then nodded. ‘I saw her at breakfast. We sat together.’
‘And what time was that?’
‘About half past eight.’
‘What did you talk about?’
‘Oh, nothing special. Just, you know… life in college. I told her I was missing home. I don’t usually, it’s just that after what happened to Gina…’
‘Did Miranda mention anything about Gina over breakfast?’
‘No, not really. Just that we both missed her. Gina could be a bit aloof at times, but now she’s gone…’
Bridget cut in before Poppy could dissolve into tears again. ‘Did you see Miranda again after breakfast?’
‘No. I had to finish some work for my tutorial, so I came back here to my room.’
‘And what time was your tutorial?’ prodded Bridget gently.
‘At midday, and it finished at one. And then, when I came out, the police were here, and I heard that Miranda was dead.’
She began to cry again, and Bridget waited patiently.
Eventually Poppy looked at Bridget with tear-stained eyes. ‘But before I went to my tutorial, I had a visitor,’ she said.
‘Who?’
‘It was that creepy guy, Mr Gold.’
Bridget could barely keep the surprise from her voice. ‘Mr Damon’s lawyer? He came here to see you?’
‘Yes. He came to my room.’
‘What time was this?’
‘About half past ten.’
At ten o’clock, Bridget had only just finished interviewing Tyler Dixon in Mr Gold’s presence. She calculated that Gold must have driven straight to the college immediately after finishing the interview.
‘What did he want?’
‘He was rather threatening, actually,’ said Poppy. ‘He said he knew that Gina had made an audio recording at the party. He wanted to know what else she’d been up to, and whether Miranda and I had been doing anything similar, which we weren’t, obviously. I told him I had nothing to do with Gina’s activities and I didn’t even approve of them. He kept going on and on, asking what Gina had discovered, and whether she’d found out anything about any of the guests, but I said I didn’t know.’
Bridget could have kicked herself for her carelessness. She herself had informed Gold about the audio recording at the interview with Tyler that very morning, which was presumably why he’d come straight to see Poppy. With hindsight, it had been a mistake to mention it. But, Bridget reflected, it would be far better if the lawyer representing one of the suspects wasn’t himself a suspect in the case. She was growing rather tired of Nick Damon’s tangled web of influence.
‘Were you alone when Mr Gold saw you?’ she asked Poppy.
‘Yes.’
‘Did he mention anything about speaking to Miranda?’
‘Yes, he said he was going to speak to her next.’ Poppy stared at Bridget open-mouthed as she realised the significance of what she was saying. ‘I messaged her to warn her that he was coming, but I didn’t wait for a reply because I needed to get to my tutorial. And Miranda’s quite good at standing up for herself. I thought she’d handle him better than I had. But – oh my God – do you think he killed her?’
‘I don’t know, Poppy,’ said Bridget. ‘But I’m going to find out.’
25
After leaving Poppy’s room, Bridget wasted no time. She quickly rounded up Jake and Ryan and sent them off to find Mr Gold and bring him in for questioning. From what Poppy had told her, Damon’s lawyer had gone to see Miranda just minutes before the murdered student had phoned Bridget to say she thought she had guessed the identity of Gina’s killer.
If only Bridget hadn’t been called away to account for her progress to the Chief Super, she would have been able to take Miranda’s phone call, and everything might have turned out differently. One thing was clear to her – despite his undoubtedly shifty behaviour, Tyler Dixon couldn’t possibly have murdered Miranda, as he’d been in police custody. She drove back to Kidlington and released him from the cells. He slouched off ungratefully, muttering something under his breath about human rights and wrongful arrest.
Bridget just had time to grab an unhealthy and unappetising lunch from the vending machine before Jake and Ryan returned from their mission to find Mr Gold. She raised a questioning eyebrow as she munched on her limp cheese sandwich.
‘We got him, ma’am,’ said Jake, looking pleased with himself. ‘He was back at Damon’s house, large as life.’
‘We hoped the slimy bastard might try to make a run for it,’ said Ryan, ‘you know – so we could chase him for a bit, and drag him to the floor. But he agreed to cooperate fully with our request,’ he concluded with obvious regret.
Bridget swallowed her half-chewed mouthful of bread and cheese. ‘Where is he now?’
‘In the interview room.’
‘Okay,’ she said, taking a last sip of Diet Coke, ‘let’s go and see what he has to say for himself.’
She found Mr Gold sitting calmly in interview room two in the presence of a junior officer. He now occupied the very same seat that Tyler Dixon had sat in just a few hours earlier. But there was no lawyer at his side. He had declined the offer of legal representation, evidently deciding that he would be better at defending himself than some hired solicitor. Perhaps he was right about that.
Bridget took a seat opposite and spent a minute sizing him up. As always, the lawyer was presented impeccably, this time in a dark olive suit with a matching waistcoat. And yet the man’s starched collar and silk tie seemed to hide a void. Despite spending several hours in his presence, Bridget had very little clues to the real man behind the façade. Mr Gold remained an enigma. His age was indeterminate. His personality was so bland as to be non-existent. He was like a chameleon, blending into the background. In fact, he had done it so well, Bridget hadn’t even considered him to be a suspect until now.
He gazed at her measuredly with dark, empty eyes. ‘Good afternoon, DI Hart,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Perhaps you would do me the courtesy of explaining why you asked me to come here again. Is this related to Tyler Dixon?’
‘No,’ said Bridget. ‘It isn’t.’
‘Then what?’
‘I understand that you visited Wadham College this morning after concluding the interview with Tyler.’
‘That’s correct.’
Bridget was pleased that he hadn’t tried to deny it. This interview would flow much more smoothly if he simply agreed with every proposition she put to him.
‘While you were there, you visited Poppy Radley in her room.’
‘I did.’
‘According to Poppy, your behaviour was rather threatening.’
‘Ah,’ said Mr Gold. ‘Now there I must disagree with you. I simply asked her some questions, which she answered. No threat was made, either directly or by implication.’
‘What questions did you ask her?’
Mr Gold feigned a look of surprise. ‘I’m sure you already know that, DI Hart. Poppy is a very intelligent girl. No doubt she told you exactly what I asked.’
‘You questioned her about Gina and the audio recording she made at the party.’
‘That’s right. After you so helpfully made me aware of the existence of the recording, it became necessary for me to try to find out what had been recorded and whether any other recordings existed. My job is to protect my client’s interests, you understand.’
‘Poppy found your behaviour intimidating,’ said Bridget.
‘I’m very sorry to hear that. Please give her my apologies.’
‘What did you do after you left Poppy?’
‘I went to Miranda Gardiner’s room to ask her the same questions. But there was no answer when I knocked on her door.’
‘So what did you do then?’
‘I left the college and returned to Mr Damon’s house.’
‘How convenient for you,’ said Bridget.
Mr Gold gave her a puzzled look. ‘On the contrary, DI Hart. It was most inconvenient. What an odd thing for you to say.’
Bridget leaned forward. ‘You’re telling me that you have no idea that Miranda Gardiner was murdered this morning?’
For a moment Gold lost his customary poise, but he very soon recovered himself. ‘Murdered? But I know nothing about that.’ He sat up very straight in his chair, as if determined to prove that he had nothing to hide. And yet the hands clasped together beneath the table suggested the opposite.
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Bridget. ‘I think you called on Miranda and she told you something which led you to kill her.’
‘Inspector, no. I can assure you that is not what happened.’ A slight sheen of perspiration had appeared on Mr Gold’s papery skin.
‘Where were you on the night of the party at Mr Damon’s house?’
‘Why, I was at the house myself.’
‘Yes, I thought you might have been,’ said Bridget. ‘You didn’t give a statement to police at the time, did you?’
‘I don’t recall being asked.’
Bridget nodded to herself. No doubt Jake and the other detectives at the house that day had made the same assumption she had made herself – that Mr Gold had arrived at the house the morning after the party in order to represent his client. In fact he had been there all along.
‘So did you stay overnight?’
‘I have a room where I regularly sleep when I’m doing business with Mr Damon, so yes, I spent the night there. I went to bed at around half past one.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes. Certainly.’
‘Did you go upstairs at any time, apart from when you went to bed at the end of the evening?’
‘No.’
‘Did you have any kind of relationship with Gina Hartman?’
‘I don’t believe I ever spoke to her.’
‘What about Dr Frost?’
‘I didn’t speak to him either.’
‘Who did you speak to?’
‘I tend to keep myself to myself at these sorts of occasions.’
That didn’t surprise Bridget. ‘Then do you recall seeing any unusual behaviour during the course of the evening, or noticing anything that might be relevant to our enquiry?’
‘I don’t believe so.’
‘I see,’ said Bridget. ‘So presumably you won’t object to providing a DNA sample so that we can eliminate you from our enquiries?’
She waited to see how he would respond, wondering if it was conceivable that this man might be the elusive father of Gina’s child. The idea of him sleeping with Gina Hartman was repulsive. And yet, if all other candidates had been eliminated…
‘Not in the slightest,’ said Mr Gold.
He held his mouth open patiently while Bridget used a swab to take a sample of his saliva.
‘I’m sure you’ll find that this doesn’t match any DNA you might have already found at the murder scene,’ he said. ‘Just as I’m certain that once the forensic evidence from Miranda’s room has been analysed, it will be clear that I never set foot inside her room.’
‘Possibly,’ said Bridget, ‘if you were very careful and took steps to avoid leaving fingerprints or any other traces. But how certain can you be that we won’t find one of your hairs in Miranda’s room? Or some other evidence that will point to you being there?’
Mr Gold smiled nervously. ‘Pretty certain,’ he said. ‘Although nothing in life is ever completely guaranteed.’
26
On returning to her desk after sending Mr Gold’s DNA sample off to be analysed, Bridget was surprised to find Jake, Andy and Harry clustered around Ryan’s computer. The sound of their blokeish laughter seemed more appropriate to a pub than to the incident room.
‘Whoa, look at that,’ said Ryan, pointing at the screen. ‘The boss is going to go apeshit when she sees this. Still, you’ve got to hand it to that MP, who’d have thought he’d be capable of –’
Jake gave Ryan a nudge as Bridget approached. ‘What am I going to go apeshit about?’ she asked, ‘as you so delicately put it?’
‘Sorry, ma’am,’ said Ryan. ‘Excuse my language, but you should come and see this, although I don’t think you’re going to like it very much.’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a leak, ma’am,’ said Jake, as Andy and Harry scuttled off back to their desks.
Bridget groaned. She knew how dimly Grayson would view any leak of information from the investigation.
‘Not so much a leak,’ said Ryan. ‘More like the sluice gates have been opened.’ He swivelled the screen in her direction.
Bridget’s stomach turned a somersault in dread of what she might see. But not even in her most fevered imagination had she anticipated anything like this. Apeshit didn’t even begin to describe how Grayson would react when he found out.
