was on?”
“I assumed she’d told Professor Chromik, but it turned out she hadn’t. He asked me if I’d heard from her.”
“Hush-hush, was it?”
“I couldn’t say. I can’t think why anyone would want to murder her, whatever she was working on. She was only an adviser.”
“What about her personal life? Was there a boyfriend?”
“She never mentioned one. She wasn’t the chatty sort. A lovely person, but she didn’t say much about her life outside the department. Mind, I don’t blame her. They’re a nosy lot. It goes with the subject.”
“Who were her special friends at work, then?”
“Nobody I noticed. She seemed to stay friendly with everyone.”
“Even the ones who had to fill in when she was away?”
“People grumbled a bit. They do when there’s extra work being assigned. A few harsh words were spoken in the last few days.”
“About Emma skiving off, you mean?”
“Well, it could be taken that way, but they’ll be regretting it now. It’s not a reason for murdering anyone, is it?”
“Let’s hope not.”
He drifted away from Tara and stood for a while watching the Behavioural Psychology Department socially interacting. It was not so different from a CID party, the high flyers hovering around the boss while the subversives formed their own subgroups and the touchy-feely element played easy-to-get on the fringe.
In this heated atmosphere the tragic news circulated rapidly. You could see the stunned expressions as it passed around. The moment arrived when Professor Chromik was informed. Frowning and shaking his curly head, he disengaged himself from his colleagues and moved towards the door, perhaps to use a phone. Diamond stepped in fast.
“You’ve just heard about Dr Tysoe, I gather? I’m Peter Diamond, Bath CID.”
The professor’s brown eyes were huge through his glasses. “CID? It’s true, then? Appalling. Do you mind stepping outside where it’s more private?”
They found a quiet spot below a gilt-framed painting of a grey-bearded nineteenth century golfer in plus-fours and cap.
“The whole thing is a mystery, and I’m hoping you can help,” Diamond said. “We’ve no idea why she was at Wightview Sands, or who would have wished to murder her.”
“It’s a mystery to me, too,” Chromik said. “I’m devastated.”
“You must have known why she was away from your department.”
“She was a psychological offender profiler.”
“I know.”
“Well, this is your territory, not mine.”
Diamond recalled Halliwell’s comment about the professor not giving much away. “She’s employed in your department, isn’t she? She has to let you know if she takes time off.”
“She did. She came to see me and said she’d been asked to advise on a case.”
“When was this?”
“Mid June.”
“Can you be more precise?”
“The seventeenth.”
“ . . . to advise on a case. Is that all she said?”
“It was confidential.”
“You mean she told you about the case and you’re refusing to tell me? Confidentiality goes out of the window when someone is murdered.”
Chromik caught his breath in annoyance. “That isn’t what I said. She was not at liberty to speak to me about the matter. I can tell you nothing about it. That’s why I said it’s your territory.”
“You don’t even know who contacted her?”
“No.”
“And you let her go off for God knows how long?”
“Emma was trustworthy. If she said it was necessary to take time off, I took her word for it. She promised to let me know as soon as she was able to return to her normal duties. That was the last I heard.”
He seemed to be speaking truthfully, but the story sounded wrong. Either Emma Tysoe had been tricked, or she’d put one across the professor. If some senior detective wanted the help of a profiler, surely he wouldn’t need to insist on secrecy?
“Are you certain she was honest?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Is it possible she wasn’t working on a case at
“I assumed she’d told Professor Chromik, but it turned out she hadn’t. He asked me if I’d heard from her.”
“Hush-hush, was it?”
“I couldn’t say. I can’t think why anyone would want to murder her, whatever she was working on. She was only an adviser.”
“What about her personal life? Was there a boyfriend?”
“She never mentioned one. She wasn’t the chatty sort. A lovely person, but she didn’t say much about her life outside the department. Mind, I don’t blame her. They’re a nosy lot. It goes with the subject.”
“Who were her special friends at work, then?”
“Nobody I noticed. She seemed to stay friendly with everyone.”
“Even the ones who had to fill in when she was away?”
“People grumbled a bit. They do when there’s extra work being assigned. A few harsh words were spoken in the last few days.”
“About Emma skiving off, you mean?”
“Well, it could be taken that way, but they’ll be regretting it now. It’s not a reason for murdering anyone, is it?”
“Let’s hope not.”
He drifted away from Tara and stood for a while watching the Behavioural Psychology Department socially interacting. It was not so different from a CID party, the high flyers hovering around the boss while the subversives formed their own subgroups and the touchy-feely element played easy-to-get on the fringe.
In this heated atmosphere the tragic news circulated rapidly. You could see the stunned expressions as it passed around. The moment arrived when Professor Chromik was informed. Frowning and shaking his curly head, he disengaged himself from his colleagues and moved towards the door, perhaps to use a phone. Diamond stepped in fast.
“You’ve just heard about Dr Tysoe, I gather? I’m Peter Diamond, Bath CID.”
The professor’s brown eyes were huge through his glasses. “CID? It’s true, then? Appalling. Do you mind stepping outside where it’s more private?”
They found a quiet spot below a gilt-framed painting of a grey-bearded nineteenth century golfer in plus-fours and cap.
“The whole thing is a mystery, and I’m hoping you can help,” Diamond said. “We’ve no idea why she was at Wightview Sands, or who would have wished to murder her.”
“It’s a mystery to me, too,” Chromik said. “I’m devastated.”
“You must have known why she was away from your department.”
“She was a psychological offender profiler.”
“I know.”
“Well, this is your territory, not mine.”
Diamond recalled Halliwell’s comment about the professor not giving much away. “She’s employed in your department, isn’t she? She has to let you know if she takes time off.”
“She did. She came to see me and said she’d been asked to advise on a case.”
“When was this?”
“Mid June.”
“Can you be more precise?”
“The seventeenth.”
“ . . . to advise on a case. Is that all she said?”
“It was confidential.”
“You mean she told you about the case and you’re refusing to tell me? Confidentiality goes out of the window when someone is murdered.”
Chromik caught his breath in annoyance. “That isn’t what I said. She was not at liberty to speak to me about the matter. I can tell you nothing about it. That’s why I said it’s your territory.”
“You don’t even know who contacted her?”
“No.”
“And you let her go off for God knows how long?”
“Emma was trustworthy. If she said it was necessary to take time off, I took her word for it. She promised to let me know as soon as she was able to return to her normal duties. That was the last I heard.”
He seemed to be speaking truthfully, but the story sounded wrong. Either Emma Tysoe had been tricked, or she’d put one across the professor. If some senior detective wanted the help of a profiler, surely he wouldn’t need to insist on secrecy?
“Are you certain she was honest?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Is it possible she wasn’t working on a case at
Similar Books
