Trick of the Dark (18 page)

She had opened the door in response to Charlie's knock, looking as slim and straight-backed as ever. Dr Helena Winter, the Prescott Fellow in Philosophy, immaculate in tailored skirt and cashmere twin-set, a single strand of pearls at her neck, her white hair in the same perfect chignon. A bluestocking version of Audrey Hepburn, Charlie thought. There had been a fleeting moment of uncertainty in her dark blue eyes, then relief as she recognised her visitor. 'Miss Flint,' she said. 'Or is it still doctor?'

Straight for the jugular, as ever. 'It's still doctor. But I prefer Charlie.'

Helena inclined her head. 'Come in, Charlie. This is a surprise. ' She held the door wide for Charlie to enter. 'Have a seat.'

For a moment, Charlie diced with the wicked thought of taking the armchair, but either her courage failed or her good manners prevailed and she made for the sofa.

'We don't see you in college very often,' Helena said, settling into her armchair and helping herself to one of the strong untipped cigarettes she used to smoke in tutorials, but only after six in the evening. She caught Charlie's raised eyebrows and said, 'I'm not permitted any longer to smoke in the company of undergraduates. So I take my pleasures when I may. Tell me, to what do I owe this visit, Charlie? Have you decided that a purely academic career is, after all, what you crave?'

She's playing with me. She knows about the Hopton case and she's enjoying herself.
Charlie smiled. 'Too late for that, I think.'

'Such a pity. If only you'd believed in your abilities and stuck to philosophy, you could have taken a First, and all of this could have been yours.' Helena gestured magnanimously with both hands, indicating that the room, the college, Oxford itself had all been within her gift and Charlie's grasp.

'I wasn't that good a philosopher.'

'On the contrary, my dear. You had a very fine grasp of the complexities of moral philosophy. You could have made a lasting contribution. It was always my regret that you chose so ephemeral a field in which to work.'

Charlie had been determined not to let Helena get under her defences, but she could feel the niggles and barbs cutting into her. 'Helping people deal with their psychoses isn't exactly ephemeral. And I could never have achieved the enthusiasm for Greek philosophers that you bring to Zeno and Aristotle.' There was truth in what she said; Helena was a passionate teacher, with the articulacy and energy to pass her enthusiasm on to her pupils. But Charlie had come to Oxford for more than academic credentials and she wasn't about to be deflected by any steel-eyed bluestocking who wanted her for a scholar far more than Jesus had ever wanted her for a sunbeam. It dawned on Charlie that at least part of the reason for Helena's attitude was that Charlie had demonstrated the independence of mind to plough her own furrow, turning her back on what had been mapped out for her. 'You look remarkably well, by the way. I heard you'd been ill.'

Helena's wide mouth curved into a thin sickle smile, the deep lines in her fine skin spreading out like concentric ripples on a pond. 'I had a lump removed from my groin,' she said bluntly. 'Doubtless some of my colleagues will have recalled the comment made by Evelyn Waugh of Randolph Churchill when he had a similar experience.'

Charlie raised a questioning eyebrow. Helena had always enjoyed her little triumphs; even though Charlie knew the quotation, it cost nothing to pretend ignorance.

'"How extraordinarily talented of the surgeon to find the one part of Randolph that was not malignant and to remove it,"' Helena said with a grim smile.

'I'm glad it was nothing serious.'

She acknowledged the reply with another gracious nod. 'And you? I hear you're being tested in a quite different manner.'

Charlie turned away from the twin scalpels of her eyes and stared out over the river. 'It's not been easy. But I will get through it.'

'You will. You're tough, and you're talented. So why are you here, Charlie? I don't imagine you think the answers to your problems lie in the tenets of Antisthenes.'

Charlie smiled. 'I'll leave the Cynicism to you. The reason I'm here is that I need you to confirm something I've been told.'

'That sounds intriguing. I can't imagine the intersection of what I know and what you need to know.'

Charlie knew she had to proceed carefully. Helena Winter had always been as generous to an unsupported statement as a fox to a wounded chicken. 'Seventeen years ago, Corinna Newsam came to you with a moral dilemma. I need you to confirm what she told you that morning.'

Charlie had never seen Helena genuinely taken aback. It was a beautiful moment. 'I have no idea to what you're referring, ' she said. It was a good attempt at her best hauteur, but it fell short.

'Let me jog your memory. I know how it is when we get older and things don't surface as readily as they once did.' Charlie enjoyed the brief tightening of the muscles round Helena's mouth. 'It was a memorable day here. The day Jess Edwards died.' Helena did not look away; she held Charlie's steady gaze, a trickle of smoke rising unwavering from her hand. 'Corinna tells me she came to see you.'

'Suppose for a moment that the circumstance you describe took place. Why on earth should I disclose it to you? You have no standing here. We haven't spoken for years. I know nothing of your motives.' She raised her hand and inhaled deeply. 'But that is idle speculation. I have no recollection of any such event.'

Charlie shook her head. 'Call Corinna and ask her if you can trust me.' She dug into her pocket and produced her mobile. 'Here. Save yourself the bother of getting up. Use my phone.'

Helena ignored the offer, reaching instead for her own landline handset. She stubbed out her cigarette then keyed in a number from memory and waited. 'Corinna? It's Helena. I . . .
'
Obviously cut off by Corinna, her lips tightened in displeasure. 'She is indeed,' she said, then fell silent again. 'Very well. Come and see me tomorrow at quarter to nine.' She ended the call and gave Charlie a long, considering look. 'Whatever information I have is impotent. Nothing can come of it. Where there is no proof, there can be no purpose in dissemination. Do you understand me?'

'I'm not about to run off to the tabloids.' Charlie let her disapproval leak into her voice. 'If I was that sort of person, do you think for a moment that Corinna would have entrusted me with this?'

'Whatever "this" is,' Helena said tartly. 'I have no idea why Corinna feels the need to revisit this episode.'

'That's her business. What did she tell you?'

At last, Helena looked away, studying the hand that had held the cigarette. 'It was towards the end of the morning. The news of Jess's death had shaken everyone. It's always the same when an undergraduate dies. There's a profound sense of shock, but also an anger that so much promise will never be fulfilled. That's even stronger when it's someone like Jess who has obvious gifts over and above their intellectual ability. The details fly round the place like wildfire, so by mid-morning everyone knew that Jess had somehow fallen, hit her head and drowned. We also knew that this must have happened very early in the morning, since she was already dead when the rest of the rowers arrived for their morning practice. According to the other rowers, Jess had complained that her seat wasn't moving smoothly and she planned to go down to the boathouse ahead of practice to see if she could sort out the problem.'

'Was that common knowledge before the accident?' Charlie asked. Opening the subject out was often the best way to draw information from a reluctant witness.

'I couldn't say. I seem to remember the girls saying that Jess talked about it over dinner the previous evening. In theory, I suppose anyone could have overheard.' Helena reached for another cigarette but didn't light it straight away, preferring to roll it between her fingers. Her hands, roped with veins and marked with liver spots, revealed the passage of the years far more than her face or posture. With a sudden shock, Charlie realised Helena had become an old woman.

'Why did Corinna need to see you?' she asked.

Helena took her time lighting the cigarette. 'She needed advice. She had seen something - or rather, someone - in the meadow that morning. Very early in the morning. And she was in a quandary as to what she should do about it.'

'Why was she in a quandary? She'd seen someone at the scene of a violent death. Surely the obvious thing to do would be to talk to the police?' Charlie kept any accusation out of her voice, making her question sound like a casual query.

'But it wasn't that simple. It was late November. When Corinna had entered the meadow by the side gate, it had still been dark. She was certain of her identification because she knew the person in question very well, but she was well aware that in a coroner's court or a criminal court, she could soon be made to look unreliable on the question of identification at a distance in poor lighting. Furthermore, the presence of an individual did not, in and of itself, point to any kind of involvement in Jess's death. Even if the person in question had met Jess at the boathouse, there was no reason to suppose anything sinister in that.'

'Even if the person in question benefited from Jess's death? And it's OK to use her name, Helena. We both know we're talking about Jay Stewart. That's who Corinna saw, and that's whose ambition was being thwarted by Jess Edwards' popularity. And, according to Corinna, victim of a dirty tricks campaign led by Jess.'

Helena gave Charlie a pained smile. 'Much as I love this college, it's hard for me to believe that someone would murder in order to become JCR President.'

'I'm with you on that. But I've spent time with a lot of killers, and you'd be depressed beyond measure by the apparent triviality of most of their motives.'

'You may be right. But I did point out to Corinna that what she thought she had seen was open to several interpretations. And that as soon as she voiced any suspicion to the police, both the college and the person in question would become media fodder in the most unpleasant of ways. At a time when the college was desperately trying to raise endowment, it would have been a disaster. And a pointless one at that.'

It was, Charlie thought, breathtaking. Stifle any possibility of suspicion attaching to what might well have been a murder just to protect the reputation of a college, and its fund-raising programme. Only in Oxford. Well, maybe in Cambridge too. 'You don't think that if the police had been alerted to the possibility of foul play they might have found evidence?'

'My dear Charlie, our intention was not to suppress evidence. As I said to Corinna at the time, had there been the slightest suggestion of anything untoward about Jess's death, it would have been her duty to report what she had seen. But it was never suggested that Jess's death was anything other than an accident.'

'So far as you know,' Charlie said.

'I believe the police did keep the college fully informed of their thinking.'

Charlie shook her head wearily. That might be a comfortable thought for Helena to cling to, but she knew there was little chance of the police having shared vague suspicions with anyone outside their closed circle. 'In my experience, the police only tell what they want you to know,' she said. 'Corinna's information might have transformed the nature of their inquiry.'

Helena tilted her head back and savoured the smoke. 'I think it far more likely that it would merely have served to tarnish the name of the college and of the person involved.'

'You still haven't said her name,' Charlie said.

'And I have every intention of continuing my discretion on that point. Corinna may trust you, but I do not have her certainty. For all I know, you may be recording this on some clever electronic gadget. I have no desire to expose myself to a slander suit.'

'You are something else, Dr Winter.'

'I'll take that as a compliment, Dr Flint.'

Charlie made a small derisive sound. 'I wouldn't. Is there anything else that Corinna said that might be of interest to someone who was taking a fresh look at Jess Edwards' death?'

Helena gave Charlie a contemplative look, as if she were weighing her in some internal balance. 'To be perfectly frank, I was surprised that Corinna shared what she had seen with anyone.'

'Because a secret can be kept by two people providing one of them be dead?'

Helena's smile was wry. 'In a way. But more specifically, because at that time, the undergraduate in question was Corinna's protegee. Much as you had been a couple of years before. Corinna always spoke highly of her and defended her against any criticism. That she was prepared to say anything that was in any way potentially critical of her favourite seemed to me to be highly surprising. That it was something that rendered the girl so potentially vulnerable was staggering. It was an indication to me of how seriously troubled Corinna was by what she'd seen.'

'Did you put that point to her?'

Helena gave Charlie a hard stare, her manner condescending. 'That would not have been appropriate.'

'Appropriate. Of course
.
'
Charlie shook her head as she sat up, gathering herself together to rise and leave. 'One small thing. Why was Corinna coming into college so early in the morning?'

There was nothing kind in Helena's smile. 'She had ambition. She desperately wanted a fellowship. She refused to accept she was too much of an outsider, that there was too much stacked against her - marriage, motherhood, being Canadian, being Catholic. So she would come into college around six in the morning and do a couple of hours' work before rushing home to see her children off to school. She thought hard work would be enough to overcome her drawbacks. '

'Apparently it was,' Charlie said, getting to her feet. 'I mean, she is a fellow now.'

'We have men who are fellows now,' Helena said, using the word 'men' as if it were comparable to 'cats' or 'monkeys'.

'Thank you for talking to me,' Charlie said, moving towards the door. 'You know, I always thought you were a brilliant philosopher. I had so much respect for the quality of your mind.' This time Helena's smile was sincere, if surprised. 'We all make mistakes, I guess.' Charlie went on. 'You and Corinna, with your desperate desire to protect the college - it looks like you might have let a killer walk free to take more lives.' One hand on the door handle, Charlie realised that somewhere in the past half hour she'd crossed a line. She'd decided Jay Stewart had a case to answer, and she was going to do her best to make her answer it. 'You should have stopped her then, if you really cared about the college.'