especially tragic, premature death, and that this was mixed up with their notions of romantic love and sexual freedom. Well, they certainly did have tangled sex lives, but Marion blew it out of all proportion. She was obsessed.’
‘It does sound ambitious.’
‘Quite impossible. Absurdly broad for a doctoral thesis.’ He leaned forward, punching the point home with his index finger, and Kathy saw another side to him, pugnacious and domineering. ‘She was wandering off into areas in which she had no expertise—forensic medicine, psychology, chemistry, you name it.’ He gave a snort. ‘The provisional title of her thesis was
Sex and Death: A Pre-Raphaelite Discourse
. You see what I mean?’ He spread his hands. ‘Somewhat melodramatic.’
‘But they
were
pretty melodramatic, the Pre-Raphaelites, weren’t they?’
He smiled at Kathy indulgently. ‘Well, yes, but Marion was writing an academic treatise, not a novel. That was our compromise title. Her first efforts were even more lurid—“lust” figured prominently, if I remember rightly.’
‘Was there much lust in Marion’s life, would you say?’
He held Kathy’s eye for a moment, then said, very deliberately, ‘I have absolutely no idea. She never talked about her private life.’
‘Did she have a job, apart from her studies? Some source of income?’
Again, he couldn’t say, and his mood changed, becoming impatient and bored. He checked his watch.
‘What were your movements last Tuesday, Dr da Silva?’
He frowned. ‘I was working at home. I’m preparing a paper for a conference in the States, and the deadline is coming up. There are too many interruptions here, so I stayed at home to get it finished.’
‘Was anyone with you?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
nine
T he phone went as Kathy slid behind the wheel. Her heart sank as she recognised Nicole’s voice. ‘Oh, hi.’
‘You didn’t ring me back. How did it go this morning?’
‘Not too well, I’m afraid. It didn’t work out as I’d hoped.’
‘You sound harassed.’
‘Sorry, I’ve been flat out with this murder case, that woman who was poisoned in St James’s Square.’
‘Oh, is that what you’re on?’
‘It’s my first murder since I made inspector, Nicole. I’ve got to get it right.’
‘And you will, but you’re not giving up on this weekend.’
‘It’s impossible. I’m really sorry. I was looking forward to it.’
‘Sounds like you need a break, Kathy. Anyway, maybe you’ll have cracked it by tonight.’
Kathy sighed. ‘No way. Cases either crack in the first day orthey go on for weeks. We’ve passed the golden hour; it’s all hard slog now.’
She rang off, and immediately the phone rang again, this time with the librarian Gael Rayner on the line.
‘Oh, Inspector, we’re under siege here!’ She sounded excited.
‘What’s going on?’
‘There’s a contingent of foreign press outside, trying to get pictures and interviews about Marion’s death. We’ve had to bar them from coming in. I try to tell them this is the London Library, for goodness’ sake, not
CSI Miami
.’
‘Do you want me to talk to the local coppers?’
‘Oh no, it’s all right. They’re rather dishy, actually. I probably will let them in to shoot a bit of film, but I just don’t want them to turn us into the London Dungeon or something. No, it was another thing I thought I should mention to you.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I’m really not sure if it’s relevant. It concerns one of our readers. It may be nothing at all, and I’d hate to make trouble unnecessarily.’
‘Gael, this is a murder inquiry. You can trust me to handle any information with discretion, but you really can’t keep anything relevant to yourself.’
She sighed. ‘Oh well, yes.’
‘Should I come over there?’
‘Maybe that would be best. But not in a police car with sirens, please. It might be best if you were to come to our service entrance at the back, off Mason’s Yard.
‘It does sound ambitious.’
‘Quite impossible. Absurdly broad for a doctoral thesis.’ He leaned forward, punching the point home with his index finger, and Kathy saw another side to him, pugnacious and domineering. ‘She was wandering off into areas in which she had no expertise—forensic medicine, psychology, chemistry, you name it.’ He gave a snort. ‘The provisional title of her thesis was
Sex and Death: A Pre-Raphaelite Discourse
. You see what I mean?’ He spread his hands. ‘Somewhat melodramatic.’
‘But they
were
pretty melodramatic, the Pre-Raphaelites, weren’t they?’
He smiled at Kathy indulgently. ‘Well, yes, but Marion was writing an academic treatise, not a novel. That was our compromise title. Her first efforts were even more lurid—“lust” figured prominently, if I remember rightly.’
‘Was there much lust in Marion’s life, would you say?’
He held Kathy’s eye for a moment, then said, very deliberately, ‘I have absolutely no idea. She never talked about her private life.’
‘Did she have a job, apart from her studies? Some source of income?’
Again, he couldn’t say, and his mood changed, becoming impatient and bored. He checked his watch.
‘What were your movements last Tuesday, Dr da Silva?’
He frowned. ‘I was working at home. I’m preparing a paper for a conference in the States, and the deadline is coming up. There are too many interruptions here, so I stayed at home to get it finished.’
‘Was anyone with you?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
nine
T he phone went as Kathy slid behind the wheel. Her heart sank as she recognised Nicole’s voice. ‘Oh, hi.’
‘You didn’t ring me back. How did it go this morning?’
‘Not too well, I’m afraid. It didn’t work out as I’d hoped.’
‘You sound harassed.’
‘Sorry, I’ve been flat out with this murder case, that woman who was poisoned in St James’s Square.’
‘Oh, is that what you’re on?’
‘It’s my first murder since I made inspector, Nicole. I’ve got to get it right.’
‘And you will, but you’re not giving up on this weekend.’
‘It’s impossible. I’m really sorry. I was looking forward to it.’
‘Sounds like you need a break, Kathy. Anyway, maybe you’ll have cracked it by tonight.’
Kathy sighed. ‘No way. Cases either crack in the first day orthey go on for weeks. We’ve passed the golden hour; it’s all hard slog now.’
She rang off, and immediately the phone rang again, this time with the librarian Gael Rayner on the line.
‘Oh, Inspector, we’re under siege here!’ She sounded excited.
‘What’s going on?’
‘There’s a contingent of foreign press outside, trying to get pictures and interviews about Marion’s death. We’ve had to bar them from coming in. I try to tell them this is the London Library, for goodness’ sake, not
CSI Miami
.’
‘Do you want me to talk to the local coppers?’
‘Oh no, it’s all right. They’re rather dishy, actually. I probably will let them in to shoot a bit of film, but I just don’t want them to turn us into the London Dungeon or something. No, it was another thing I thought I should mention to you.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I’m really not sure if it’s relevant. It concerns one of our readers. It may be nothing at all, and I’d hate to make trouble unnecessarily.’
‘Gael, this is a murder inquiry. You can trust me to handle any information with discretion, but you really can’t keep anything relevant to yourself.’
She sighed. ‘Oh well, yes.’
‘Should I come over there?’
‘Maybe that would be best. But not in a police car with sirens, please. It might be best if you were to come to our service entrance at the back, off Mason’s Yard.
Similar Books
