Oxford was once again in all its beautiful splendour as the streets began filling up with people. Broad Street and the High Street was again increasing in pedestrian and traffic flow. Stephen Hazel drove down the street en route to the station. He was running late. His alarm clock failed to go off on time and this distressed the young sergeant immensely. The young man wanted to impress, and this was a complete setback. Hazel swore out loud and bashed the palms of his hands on the steering wheel as he hit a long tailback. He looked at his phone contemplating whether to call in…
James Hathaway walked from one of the many hotel dining room tables to a huge window holding a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked out onto the gardens. A few weeks passed since he was reinstated and took Caroline to Cambridge. They both decided to stay longer as she had a few things to do. Bright was understanding and granted him more leave, but if he decided to come back earlier he could. He carefully took a sip from his cup and watched the people milling about outside enjoying the morning sunshine.
Caroline walked over to him and he placed his arm around her holding her close. They knew they had a place to visit today, one which was long overdue. Caroline looked up at Hathaway and noticed the look on his face, one which was distant. She squeezed him, and he looked at her.
“Everything okay?” she asked. Hathaway nodded.
“I should be asking you this,” he said. Caroline gazed into his blue eyes and nodded.
“I have to do this. We have to do this.”
“I know.” He kissed Caroline slowly and they rubbed noses playfully. He gazed into her eyes and he smiled lovingly at her. They were distracted by a noise coming from outside and they saw a hapless couple, the husband accidentally dropping a bag and his wife screaming blue murder at him. Their taxi was parked not far away, the driver wisely keeping his distance.
“I hope we do not end up like them,” Caroline remarked. She took note of the no response from Hathaway and looked up at him. She jokingly thumped him on the arm as he tried to keep a straight face. She grinned and held him tighter.
Stephen Hazel knew he was in the deepest brown stuff as he ran inside the station. The female desk sergeant watched as he sped by without even a ‘good morning’ and she felt a bit disappointed.
“Morning, Marian!” Hazel called out as he disappeared around a corner. The desk sergeant blushed and grinned. Her morning was complete.
Bright was in the middle of a briefing when Hazel burst through the door. There was immediate silence and all eyes and heads turned in his direction. Hazel turned a bright shade of red and he cleared his throat as he walked inside. He stood next to a pretty brunette who bit her lip cheekily with her head slightly turned downwards.
“You are lucky she is in a good mood,” she whispered to him as Bright resumed proceedings.
“I am so late!” Hazel whispered back, still slightly out of breath. “This isn’t what I wanted.”
“Was she worth it?”
Hazel blushed. His colleague stifled laughter.
“Anything you would like to share, you two?” The two detectives looked up as Bright asked them the question. “Nice of you to show your face, Stephen. Come see me in my office when this is over, please?”
“Shit!” Hazel swore under his breath as once again Bright continued. His female colleague turned her head trying to suppress her laughter. Hazel once again blushed and sheepishly looked up listening to the end of Bright’s waffle. He followed her out as the briefing ended and glanced round his shoulder as his colleague started chatting with a couple of other detectives.
The cemetery was quiet, serene, peaceful and tranquil. Hathaway and Caroline got out of the car on a path outside some internal gates and stared at the miles and miles of gravestones around them. Caroline walked over and stopped a couple of steps in front of Hathaway. He was carrying a bunch of flowers. He watched Caroline as she stared at a section of the cemetery and left her be for a little while. She suddenly outstretched her hand. Hathaway walked over and held it, looking in the same direction. He felt Caroline take a deep breath as they both walked inside.
They passed the many rows of graves, some dilapidated, some uncared for and forgotten and others beautifully attended to. Two women passed them carrying buckets and they nodded once in greeting before going on their way. Hathaway and Caroline finally stopped nearby, and she tensed up suddenly. Hathaway took one look at her and then straight ahead. A figure was kneeling by a headstone, placing flowers at the base. Caroline squeezed Hathaway’s hand and ventured forward. She stopped a few feet behind the figure.
“Dad?”
The figure turned. He had dark hair and dark features, which were haggard and stressed.
“Hello, Caroline.” He caught sight of Hathaway and his face slightly lit up in recognition. Caroline looked at her father and wondered what he was doing back after so long.
Hazel walked into Bright’s office and heard the door close behind him. He gulped but tried not to look apprehensive as Bright walked past him towards her desk. She stood in front of it, leaning her hands on the edge.
“What time do you call this, Stephen?” she asked, disappointment in her voice. “You know I brief everyone once a week. I expected you to be on time like always.”
“I am so sorry, ma’am,” Hazel replied apologetically. “My alarm failed to go off and…”
“That doesn’t matter now, Stephen.” Bright looked at him still with a hint of pride. Ever since the Hemsworth-Frost bust, she viewed him quite favourably. He was holding the fort successfully and this pleased Bright even more so. Hazel watched as Bright walked over to the other side of her desk.
“Have you heard anything more from Hathaway, ma’am?” he asked.
“Not a thing,” Bright replied. “How are you finding the department, Stephen?”
“Good thank you, ma’am.”
“Excellent.” She paused and took a folder from the in tray on her desk. “Stephen, your hard work and enthusiasm has not gone unnoticed.” She placed it in front of him. “I have spoken to Hathaway briefly and he is in agreement.” She watched as Hazel picked up the folder and opened it. “I hope you will take this opportunity.”
Hazel’s eyes widened. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“The assessment is in six or so months. You can ask James for assistance when he gets back. He has agreed to let you take the helm on a few cases when they come in and will observe and advise.” Bright looked at the joy on Hazel’s face and smiled. “Congratulations, Stephen. Use this time wisely. You will do well, I am sure.” She held out her hand. Hazel looked up and shook it, a grin coming over his face.
Hathaway watched from a short distance giving Caroline and her father a bit of privacy. He observed the mannerisms and body language from both, but Caroline especially and he realised more than one or two things about her. He was leaning against a tree.
Caroline knelt next to her father and placed the bunch of flowers beside his. She greeted her mother and asked how she was, apologising for taking so long in visiting. Her father meanwhile watched her, his eyes overcome with a little bit of emotion.
“You look good, Carol,” he said to her. Caroline didn’t make eye contact with him as she cleared some earth with a cloth she brought with her.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
“I was in the area. I thought to visit…”
“Out of respect for Mum, I won’t argue.” She cleared the debris from the headstone, polishing the granite with the cloth. She turned her head and beckoned Hathaway to come over. “Dad, you remember James, don’t you?”
Caroline’s father looked up to see the tall blond detective nearby. “I do, yes. Nice to see you again, James.”
“You too, sir.”
“We’re getting married, Dad.” Caroline looked at her father. She stood up and Hathaway placed a very protective hand on her shoulder. Caroline’s father looked at them both and stood up.
“Congratulations,” he told them. “I supposed I am not surprised. You two were pretty tight the last time I saw you both.” He put his hand out to Hathaway and he shook it out of courtesy before looking at the headstone. Caroline stared at her father, her expression hard but upset. Her father looked at both his daughter and future son-in-law and said nothing except walk past them. Caroline fought back tears and angrily wiped them away with her hand. Hathaway leaned forwards and whispered in her ear kissing her on the cheek. She looked at him and shook her head slowly. Hathaway turned her round and held her tightly as she wept. He looked once more at the grave of her mother and thought of his own father. He looked to the sky with hatred in his eyes.
Stephen Hazel stared once more at his invitation for assessment and still couldn’t believe it. He was absolutely made up and chuffed! This was what he always wanted; and to get the blessing from Hathaway and Bright just made it more than the icing on the cake! He turned the pages of the assessment notes and started reading quietly. He didn’t realise that someone was standing in the doorway, looking at him with a smile on her features.
“I just heard,” she said. Hazel raised his head and his face lit up.
“Hey, Gemma,” he said. She walked inside and parked herself on the edge of Hazel’s desk. “I honestly cannot believe it. This is what I joined the force for!”
“Well, you are a good sergeant… Sarge.” Hazel looked at the brunette in front of him. There was no doubt that she was a looker. She just joined the ranks as a detective constable from uniform 6 months previously but was only assigned to his and Hathaway’s department a month ago. They hadn’t seen each other much as she was under a different Inspector in a different section. She was of average height, her shoulder length dark hair always pinned up. She had brown eyes and milky white skin and was always dressed in a trouser suit. She and Hazel became friends almost immediately and this was apparent earlier that morning when they shared a not so secret conversation. Gemma smiled. “When’s your assessment?” she asked, trying to peek at the documents.
“Six months.” Hazel grinned and closed the folder. “For my eyes only!” he told her jokingly. They shared a playful and flirty look before a knock on the door interrupted them.
“On your bikes, you two,” the DI told them. “You’re on the case. Suspected poisoning at the university.” Hazel placed the folder inside one of his desk drawers and stood up. He grabbed his phone and he and Gemma ran out.
Caroline walked into her and Hathaway’s hotel room and sat down at the foot of the bed. Her body language was heavy, and she bowed her head, her hands between her thighs, the strands of her hair falling forwards. Hathaway closed the door and placed the keys on a table nearby. He dropped Caroline’s bag by a chest of drawers and sat down next to her. He placed his left arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm, planting a kiss on her hair. Caroline sat up and he laced the strands of her hair at the back of her ear.
“Bastard comes back after more than I care to mention,” she spat. “He didn’t even attend the funeral…” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I hate him, Blue Eyes. He is the sole reason why I am such an insecure piece of work.”
“Hey!” Hathaway put a stop to her put down almost immediately. “Don’t talk like that, Caroline. He may not be Father of the Year, but he has a wonderful daughter.” Caroline looked at him knowing where he came from. She saw the look in his eyes, one that told her he related to her full well. She nodded. Hathaway’s mobile phone rang, and he reached into his pocket to answer. “DI Hathaway… Hello, Stephen…” He stopped, a look of concern came over him, and he stood up to pace slowly around the room. “Poisoning? What kind?” He listened, and his eyes hit the ceiling. “Okay, who is with you? Gemma? Gemma who? Okay, you take the lead. I will be back tomorrow.” He listened again to Hazel and nodded. “All right. Just wait for Aurora to confirm things. I should be there sometime late morning.” He hung up and tapped the side of the handset to his lips. Caroline looked at him.
“What happened?” she asked.
“University poisoning. Looks like a campus wide one. Two students dead and five more in hospital. I have to get back.”
“Yes, of course.” Caroline understood, and this Hathaway appreciated. He sat back down next to her and brought her close.
“Will you be okay here?” he asked.
“Definitely,” Caroline replied. “I came here to see Mum. Anyone else can do one.” She suddenly laughed softly. “Remember we used to criticise the college canteen?”
Hathaway tried not to laugh. “I remember that thing we had one afternoon. It was terrible!”
“Just try not to think about it when you get back.” Caroline looked again at Hathaway. “Be careful. Don’t eat anything.”
“I won’t.” He gazed into Caroline’s eyes and stroked her cheek. Caroline smiled and accepted his kiss.
Aurora picked up her clipboard and signed off the paperwork. She handed it to her assistant who wheeled the covered body away for further examination. Hathaway, Hazel and Gemma walked in. The brown-haired pathologist looked up with a smile.
“James Hathaway!” she greeted pleasantly. “Welcome back!”
“Thank you.” He had arrived back in Oxford ten minutes previously and hadn’t had time to change. He was clad in a smart pair of jeans, black shoes and white shirt which was open at the collar. His gold chain was around his neck.
“I hear congratulations is in order.”
“Thank you again.” Aurora smiled, and Hathaway followed suit. Hazel and Gemma glanced at each other in amusement.
“I take it you know what happened.” Aurora walked to a ledge nearby to pick up some paperwork.
“Stephen informed me yesterday, yes. Suspected poisoning?”
“I’m afraid so; and not isolated either.” She handed the paper grimly and watched as Hathaway read it to himself quietly before passing it over to his two junior officers. “You saw the body that was wheeled away? That was the third victim; passed away overnight.”
“Do you have any idea what it could be?” Hazel asked.
“From the looks of things… arsenic.” Hathaway rolled his eyes. It seems that will always come back to haunt him. “I could be wrong though.” Aurora watched as Hathaway looked straight at her. “The tests on each victim will come back as soon as possible. I have put an urgent stamp on it.” The three detectives looked round as yet another body was wheeled in. Aurora sighed heavily. Another of her assistants looked at her regrettably. “Good luck,” she told them. “I’ll report back as soon as I get the results from toxicology.” The three detectives left as Aurora got down to business. They left pathology with not much between them apart from that piece of paper. They walked out on to the station forecourt and breathed in some much-needed air.
“What did you find at the university?” Hathaway asked.
“Campus has been sealed off. All the students and tutors have been given leave. Understandably, the Dean is very annoyed, but he also wants this solved sooner rather than later.”
“Any evidence of what it could be or any traces?”
“Not much to say a definite,” Gemma replied. “It could be something the kids were drinking from. There was a party a couple of nights ago.” Hathaway looked at her.
“Gemma isn’t it?” he asked her. “What is your last name?”
“Richardson, guv,” she replied. Hathaway nodded.
“Welcome aboard, DC Richardson. Stephen here will take charge of the case. I will still be here lending a hand. Is that okay?”
“Absolutely! Thank you, guv.” She glanced at Hazel, who blushed. Hathaway looked at them and said nothing. His look though gave it all away and the more Hazel blushed.
“All right. Give me everything you have. From start to finish.” They walked in the direction of the main entrance, Hazel giving the lowdown with Gemma taking it all in.
The campus in question was teaming with police when the three detectives walked in that afternoon. Straight away, they got to work and headed for the entrance to the halls of residence where the bodies were discovered. Members of SOCO were in each room taking evidence, mostly from empty used glasses but also other effects. They had to be careful as these would be eventually handed back to each family. Hathaway viewed this with regret. It was a complete and utter waste of life and he thought about the families and their impending grief. Hazel and Gemma looked around the first room, their gloved hands going through the contents that the SOCO team hadn’t got around to touching yet. Gemma looked through the bedding and Hazel the items on the desk and window sill. Gemma picked up a book on the bed side table and fanned the pages. That came back empty. She then began looking through the contents of the drawers. All the time, Hathaway watched observing. He knew he would be losing Hazel eventually but hoped it wouldn’t be too soon. He was only beginning to get used to him after losing Lizzie. A wave of the hand brought Hathaway back in and he walked over.
Hazel handed him a card and he looked at it. Nothing sinister, just a university club card, but anything at his point may prove useful. He wondered which campus this was. Irony would tell him Science, namely chemistry, but he thought less of that as always things may not be as they seem. He told Stephen to bag it just in case and walked over to where Gemma was.
She was looking underneath the bed on all fours, her torch shining through the partial darkness. All she could see was dust and a few bits of rubbish but nothing that could prove crucial to the case. She stood back up only for the tall figure of Hathaway to make her take a step back in fright.
“Hello,” he said with a grin. Gemma held her chest in relief. Hazel turned his head briefly and smiled in amusement knowing she had a lot to get used to. “Find anything?” Hathaway asked.
“Not really,” she replied. “It looks far too tidy to belong to a student.” She walked to the window and took a look at the ornaments on the ledge.
“Uniform for how long?”
“Five years or so. I came here straight out of Hendon.”
“A Londoner?”
“Uh-huh.” Gemma moved over to a small bookshelf and crouched down to look at the many spines of the many books that adorned the open interior. Hathaway watched as she studied each spine carefully and it brought him back to a similar case where he and Lewis were looking at a bookcase… ironically involving arsenic. Hathaway shivered at the thought of him suffering food poisoning and thought immediately of what Caroline said to him.
“What do you think?” he asked her.
“Not much, guv,” she replied. “Mostly books about literature and various celebrity autobiographies.” She stood up. Hazel joined her and shook his head at Hathaway telling him it drew a blank. Hathaway nodded and suggested the next room a couple of doors down where the second victim lived. As they walked out, two SOCO team members walked past them inside. The three detectives walked the short distance down the corridor passing many a white clad forensic. Gemma caught sight of one holding a bag with a bottle in it and stopped him. Hazel and Hathaway turned and watched as she spoke to him, the forensic nodding and walking away. They waited for her as she walked back towards them.
“Everything all right?” Hazel asked.
“Yes. I just asked SOCO where that bottle came from and he said the third victim’s room. I asked him to take it straight to Aurora and to see if the dusting he took revealed any lip marks or saliva traces.” Hazel looked at Hathaway impressed. They walked into the second victim’s room to find it crammed with three SOCO forensics. This room was slightly bigger than the first one. The two young detectives got straight to work with Hathaway taking a look round himself. He put on the latex gloves he had in his pocket and began to look through some of the drawers.
“Guv?” Hathaway turned his head and saw Gemma beckoning him over. He took one final look at the contents of the drawer he was sifting through and walked over.
“What is it?” he asked.
“This might be interesting.” She picked up a book and opened it where the bookmark was. Hazel looked up as Hathaway stood next to her to read quietly to himself the page and in particular what was underlined in pencil. It was a passage from a novel, which by the looks of things, wasn’t overly sinister. But, experience told him otherwise and he looked at the front cover.
“Do you know who lives or lived here?” he asked looking directly at Hazel. The youngster looked up straight away and glanced at a passport in his hand as Gemma passed by.
“Oh.” He flicked through the back to the ID page. “Damian Kirklees,” he read. “20 years of age.”
“Chemistry, guv,” Gemma called out. She was waving what looked like a notepad from the other end of the room. Both Hathaway and Hazel walked towards her, the younger taking the pad from her.
“Advanced it looks like,” he said as he sifted carefully through the pages. There were lots of diagrams, periodic tables and other matter jotted down in messy scribble. Only a student would understand this. “Pharmacology possibly?”
“I wouldn’t rule it out,” Hathaway replied. He looked at Hazel as if he was prompting him. He looked up and saw both his superior and junior officer looking straight at him waiting for his next move.
“The Dean?” he asked as if he was waiting for approval.
“I don’t know. You tell us,” Hathaway replied. Hazel froze. He was stuck. He knew what to say, what his ideas were, but this put him completely on the spot. Gemma noticed his slight distressed look and turned to Hathaway.
“The sarge is right, guv. Perhaps we should go to the Dean or maybe one of his tutors. He or she may be able to give us an idea of who this Damian is or perhaps the students affected themselves.”
Hathaway nodded. “Hazel, you go. Gemma and I will stay here and see if we can find out more.”
“Yes, sir.” Hazel felt like a failure as he took off his gloves and left. Both Gemma and Hathaway looked at each other as he departed.
“He knew what to say, guv,” she told him, but Hathaway said nothing as he stepped over some clothing on the floor to walk to the other side of the room. Gemma sighed heavily. She hated showing her friend up, but thought she was saving him. She bowed her head and got on with the search.
Caroline got out of a car and raised her head skywards. The tall block of flats greeted her in all its 1960s glory. She turned and smiled at the taxi driver, giving him her fare before walking off the pavement and across the road towards the entrance. She could hear kids playing in the distance and the bass of music pumping away above her. This was a housing estate in what was seen as a rough part of Cambridge. She knew her father lived here and had done so since he walked out on her and her mother all those years ago. God knows why she was here or why she decided to visit him, but she had an urge to do it, like there was closure to have. Caroline took a deep breath and pressed the flat number on the intercom. Almost straight away the buzzer sounded letting her in and she pulled open the door, holding it open for an elderly lady who smiled her gratitude to her as she walked past. Caroline walked inside the rather messy entrance and decided against the lift, which looked like it hadn’t gone under maintenance in a long while. She took another deep breath and began the long climb up the steps. Her father lived on the 10th floor.
Stephen Hazel was ushered into a rather bright office. He was offered a cup of tea or coffee by the secretary, which he declined politely. He was told it wouldn’t be long and to take a seat. The young detective took the opportunity to have a look around at his surroundings. This wasn’t your average Dean’s office – far from it. The brightness from outside easily bounced off the bright wooden walls and the white tiles on the floor even more so. There was a fairly modest sized desk not far in front of him which had a leather chair behind. Hazel scanned the contents of the desk which had a lamp, a desktop computer screen and keyboard and several in-trays. There were also a few framed photographs and a telephone. Hazel’s eyes rose upwards and he noticed an unused flagpole by the window and a few framed photographs on the walls, he hazarded a guess were perhaps old alumni or sports teams. As his eyes moved across the room, he noticed the bog standard bookshelves, chest of drawers and of course the sofa which he was sitting on. To his left hand side underneath the windows was a small table of which a tray of glass tumblers and bottles of spirits was settled on. Outside, people walked past going about their business along with the odd student on their cycle. Hazel glanced down at the immaculately clean floor tiles and noticed his own reflection, the rather troubled look on his features taking him aback slightly. His thoughts turned to his performance in front of Hathaway and Gemma and his whole being sank. He must have looked and sounded like such a dunce! The nerves now got the better of Hazel and he wondered how he was going to look like in front of the Dean. That question was about to be answered when the door opened suddenly and the person in question walked in. Hazel watched his movements carefully. Just like this office, this wasn’t your average Dean of Faculty. In fact, this looked like more your average boss of your average office than anything else. He wasn’t in robes. He wasn’t even in a suit. He had a tracksuit on like he had been on a run or in the gym. The trainers he had on his feet squeaked as he stepped across the tiles towards the drinks tray. He poured himself a glass of what looked like whiskey before walking to his desk where he sat down with a relieved sigh.
“I apologise for my lateness, detective sergeant,” he greeted. “But, I was roped into adjudicating a rather messy rowing competition. With Cambridge winning everything but the kitchen sink this year, things have become rather urgent.” He paused. “Did you watch the Boat Race?”
“Yes, sir,” Hazel replied. “My family are very much into it.”
“Not our year obviously.” The Dean chuckled and Hazel forced himself to smile. He stood up to hand over his warrant card. The Dean took a long, hard look. “Stephen Hazel,” he read. “Any relation to Martha Hazel?”
“Yes, sir… She is my mother.”
“I thought so, although I knew her as Martha Jenkins. She was a very fine student and equally passionate about certain student rights.” He handed the warrant card back over. “She must be so proud of you.”
“I think so, sir. I don’t think she expected me to follow her into academia.” Hazel was finding this all rather bizarre as he packed his warrant card away in his jacket pocket. “Sir, I am here because of the rather grizzly discoveries on your campus recently…”
“Yes, the poisonings, or suspected poisonings.” He sighed heavily with regret as he took another sip. “I have to be brutally honest with you, detective sergeant, this isn’t what I hoped would happen nor the message I would like to broadcast of the college. As you can imagine, we all have our reputations to uphold. But, with that also comes grief. The students who were involved were some of my brightest bunch with good futures. It is such a tragic waste of life.”
“It was one of those students I have come to see you about, sir.”
“Oh yes?” Hazel finally got his attention. He watched as the Dean sat up rather slowly in his seat. “Which one?”
“Damian Kirklees. We found his passport in his room. I was wondering if you could tell me more about him?”
“Is he dead?”
“We don’t know that yet, sir.” Hazel’s eyes followed the Dean as he stood up to pace slowly nearby.
“Damian Kirklees was one of the pharmacology students. He seemed bright enough; just passed his first year. I was a bit concerned he wasn’t applying himself as much as I’d like, but he has enthusiasm.” He stopped suddenly and turned to face Hazel. “You said he was one of the students found?”
“I didn’t say that, sir. We’re trying to paint a picture of the situation.”
“Of course, yes.” The tension disappeared from the Dean and he became his rather unusual self again. “The best person to speak about Damian is his tutor, Karen Macclesfield.” Hazel took out his small pad and jotted down the name. “She can tell you more about what he was like.”
“Was Damian the only student she taught?”
“Are there more dead?” Again, Hazel wasn’t going to get caught out. He didn’t reply and the Dean chuckled. “Just like Martha. She wasn’t one to stumble on her words neither.” Hazel looked up and saw the look on the Dean’s face. He was becoming rather concerned about how he was speaking about his mother.
“Thank you, sir. I will be on my way.”
“Karen isn’t on campus, as you know.” The Dean walked back to his desk and opened on of the drawers. “She also teaches at Brookes. Here is her card. I suggest you call her first just in case.”
“Thank you.” Hazel took the card and walked to leave.
“Please pass on my regards to Martha.” Hazel stopped dead in his tracks and turned.
“Thank you, sir. I will do.” He pushed the door handle down and walked through the doorway and down the corridor, thanking the secretary as he did so. As he stepped back out onto the bright Oxford streets, he became rather affected by the conversation he just had. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. “Hello, Mum? No, everything is fine. I need to talk to you about something. Yes, of course. I’ll pop by the house tonight.” As the call ended, he took up the business card he was given and dialled the number. He left a voicemail as he walked down the street.
Caroline finally reached her destination and took a couple of deep breaths to regulate her heartbeat. Ten flights of stairs she just climbed. She couldn’t believe she was doing this as she rang the doorbell and waited. She heard the sound of the chain and the bolt unlocking before the sight of her father greeted her through the small crack of the doorway.
“You should always ask who it is, Dad,” she told him. “Bad enough you let me in downstairs…”
“You sound like a copper,” he told her with a hint of bitterness in his voice. Caroline tried not to let his response bother her as he stepped aside so she could walk in. What met her was a complete disappointment. The flat wasn’t in the best of health, but at least it was warm. She ventured into the living area, which was as basic as you could get. There was one sofa by the dated floral wallpapered wall with a 20″ television set on its stand not far in front. There was a Freeview box and DVD player on the floor along with many a DVD. A small cabinet was standing not far behind it, with pictures of her mother and her dotted around. To her right, the rather huge curtain less windows gave a good view of Cambridge with a small balcony outside. Caroline noticed the windows and balcony door were double glazed. “Sit down, Carol!” Her father was now polite. Caroline said nothing as she sat down on the edge of the sofa. She felt very uncomfortable and began to regret her actions. “You want something to drink?”
“No thanks,” Caroline replied. Her father walked past her and picked up a framed photograph off the cabinet.
“Look at you,” he said with a hint of pride. “Your first day at primary school. I was so proud of you…”
“Why did you come back?” she interrupted. “Why did you visit her after so long?” Her father continued to stare at the picture but didn’t reply. Caroline was beginning to lose patience with him and she stood to leave.
“Where are you going?” he asked her. “You’ve only just got here.”
“Dad, I am not going to get a straight answer from you. So, it is better if I just go.” She walked to the doorway and noticed a black and white picture on the shelf. She stopped and looked at it, the memories of her childhood coming back. “I remember always looking at this when I was young,” she said. “It fascinated me.” She felt her father’s presence next to her looking at the picture himself. A smile came over his face. “I remember granddad telling me all these stories about you back in the day.” Her father picked up the frame and they both looked at it together. “You were good looking back then. No wonder Mum fell for you.”
“I was a bit of a looker then, wasn’t I?” Caroline laughed a little. Her father smiled.
“I see you kept your wedding photo.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Caroline walked behind the television set and looked at the framed pictures one by one. “I didn’t mean to hurt you both.”
“Too late for that. Mum was devastated and angry. She lost the plot, Dad! She kept going on about how you weren’t the person she thought you were.” Caroline stopped by a particular picture and picked it up. “If it is any consolation, she died somewhat comforted, like she knew someone was waiting to collect her. She was smiling.” She placed the picture back on the shelf. Her father noticed her engagement ring.
“You and James look good together,” he remarked. “You always did. Is he looking after you?”
“Of course!”
“What does he do now? Wasn’t he studying theology?”
“He did, yes, and graduated. He’s a Detective Inspector now for Thames Valley in Oxford.” Caroline watched as the look on her father’s face turned bitter but she knew she didn’t need his blessing or approval. She and Hathaway got her mother’s a long time ago and that was the main thing.
“Do you still have the house?”
“Yes. James has moved in with me.” Her father nodded once seeming satisfied with the response. He walked out and came back a couple of minutes later with a can of beer in his hand. Caroline’s face fell in disappointment but she also wasn’t surprised. She watched as her father drank a third of the contents down and knew this was her cue to leave. She walked past him to the front door.
“You had to get involved with a copper, Carol!” she heard him call out. “Out of all the bloody professions in the world, it had to be a bloody police officer!” Caroline stopped and counted to ten before turning.
“It isn’t my fault you hate them, Dad!” she called back. “Don’t worry, you won’t get an invite. I will walk down the aisle on my own.”
“You’re not bloody Meghan Markle!”
Caroline turned. “I may not be marrying into royalty, Dad, but I love James and he loves me; and like Meghan Markle I don’t need my arsehole of a father embarrassing me neither!” She opened the door and walked out slamming it. She approached the rather dirty windows at the opposite side of the corridor and wiped the tears angrily with the back of her hand before storming towards the stairs. The door to the flat opened and her father appeared in the doorway.
“Did you ever ask your mother why I left, Carol!” he yelled after her. “Did she tell you everything?”
“I have no need to know, Dad!” Caroline turned to look at him. “She is dead. For God’s sake, for once in your pathetic life, let her rest in peace!” She started the descent down the stairs towards the ground floor. Caroline’s father ran the short distance to the banister and looked downwards as the figure of his daughter grew smaller.
“Ask yourself who you really are, Caroline! Your mother lied to you!” The sound of this voice echoed as the figure of his daughter became a dot. He heard the entrance door slam and hit the palm of his hand angrily on the black painted bar. He dragged his feet back to his flat closing the door.
Hathaway and Gemma walked out of the halls of residence and made their way through the grounds towards the porter’s lodge. For all their endeavours in finding out more about the students, it all resulted in a complete blank. They had to rely on whatever SOCO found and Aurora’s impending report. They both reached the open door and Gemma knocked politely. The bowler hat figure of the porter came into view and he waved them in. Gemma stepped inside first, Hathaway behind her. He crouched down briefly to avoid hitting his head on the low beam.
“Detectives,” the porter greeted them as he began sorting some paperwork.
“Good afternoon,” Gemma replied brightly. She showed him her warrant card but that was dismissed with a quick glance.
“I don’t need to see those, miss,” he told her in a friendly but firm tone as she placed the card back in her pocket. “What can I do for you both? I assume this is to do with what has been going on here recently?”
“We were wondering if you can tell us anything about the students that were staying here,” Hathaway began. “We are interested in one particular one called Damian Kirklees.”
“Kirklees?” The porter was a bit perplexed. “We do not have a Kirklees here.”
Gemma noticed the students’ pigeonholes. “This is the Pharmacology Faculty, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes, it is.”
“We understand Damian was studying pharmacology.”
“Well, if he is, it is news to me.” The porter opened one of his drawers and took out a lever arch file. He opened it and went through the papers taking out a sheet from a plastic wallet. “This is the student intake for this year. As you can see, there is no mention of a Damian Kirklees.” Hathaway walked over to Gemma and they both looked at the sheet together. Gemma looked up at Hathaway, who was viewing this with a little concern.
“We found his passport in one of the rooms,” he told the porter.
“Oh, yes? Which room was that?”
“104.” Gemma bit her lip as she beat Hathaway to it. She smiled as he looked at her in amusement. The porter opened another folder on his desk and ran his index finger down the list.
“104… No, definitely not on the list. The room is allocated under the name of Miss Joanna Missenden. Now, she definitely belongs to the faculty.” Gemma quickly jotted down the name on her phone. “She hasn’t been seen for a few days. We were becoming quite concerned.”
“In what way?” Hathaway asked.
“She had a huge assessment pending. Only a few gifted students were put forward for it. I was alerted to her absence, but you know what students are like. She probably met some lad and went off with him.” Gemma wasn’t happy with the blasé attitude of the porter.
“If she has been missing for a few days, sir, with all due respect, shouldn’t you or even the faculty have alerted us as a possible missing person?”
“Miss, we have students disappearing all the time. Nine times out of ten, they come back. I wanted to alert the police. In fact, if it wasn’t for this outbreak of poisoning causing your arrival, I would have gone to the station personally. I value the safety of the students here as a top priority, Detective Constable Richardson…” He noticed the surprised look on Gemma’s face. Hathaway leaned forward.
“Photographic memory,” he told her in low voice. The porter smiled.
“I don’t mean to sound aloof. But, please believe me when I say I care about these students. I hope you do find whatever caused this outbreak. These deaths are such a complete shame.”
“Will you file a missing person’s, sir?”
“I can do better than that.” The porter walked over to a cabinet at the other end of the small room and took a file out. “This is her record. I prefer to keep these on all the students on my patch in case it comes in handy… Like now.” He handed it over to Gemma. “I hope this comes in useful.”
“Thank you.” Gemma could not help but smile. She and Hathaway walked back out into the archway. She noticed the way Hathaway was looking at her. “What?” she asked, but Hathaway grinned. “What? Tell me, guv!” She hurried off after him still not getting a response.
The moon shone in the dark Oxford sky and the streets of one particular part of the city was extremely quiet. Stephen Hazel activated the remote locking of his vehicle before treading the lit pavement down a residential area. He passed rows of parked cars and houses before coming to a rather elegantly painted gate. He stopped in front and looked at the lit living room windows, the heavy drapes dimming the brightness. He took a deep breath and unlatched the gate, walking down the pathway. He stopped in front of the door and rung the bell. The sound of a dog barking and a young voice telling the animal to quieten down was heard and Hazel could not help but smile. His expression quickly turned to seriousness as the door opened and a very classy middle aged woman wearing a smart pair of black trousers and a white blouse greeted him on the doorstep.
“Good evening, Stephen,” she said to him. Hazel looked at her.
“Hello, Mum,” he replied. He gave her a kiss on the cheek before walking inside. Immediately, the dog he heard came bounding up to him and Hazel gave a look of joy as he crouched down. “Hello, boy!” he greeted as he played with the animal. His mother closed the front door and walked past him towards the living room. A pair of adorable black Sketchers stopped nearby and Hazel raised his head. There is front of him was a girl with fairly long dark hair tied up behind her head. She was wearing a pair of knee-length jeans and a slogan T-shirt. She looked at him adoringly.
“Hello, big brother!” she greeted with enthusiasm. Hazel stood up.
“Hiya, Lori.” He took her in his arms and held her. He felt the girl’s arms hold him in return just as tightly. Hazel kissed her head before resting his on hers. You could tell both were extremely close. Their mother watched them from the living room doorway with a smile.
“Come on,” she said. “Dinner’s waiting for you in the kitchen.” Lori’s face lit up and she broke free from her brother and bounded to the kitchen, the dog following on behind. Hazel looked at his mother and smiled. “So, what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked. Hazel walked towards her.
“Mum, I need to talk to you about something…” He was cut short by Lori walking slowly carrying her dinner plate carefully. She grinned at her brother.
“Look what I’ve got!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Mum? Can big brother stay for dinner?”
“Of course I will,” Hazel replied. Once again, Lori’s face lit up and she walked past them inside the living room. The two adults made sure she was settled before making their way to the kitchen.
“You can stay if you want, Stephen.”
“No thanks, Mum. I have to go soon.” He took note of the time on the kitchen clock on the wall.
“She doesn’t understand, you know.”
“I am aware.” The tension rose and both parties decided to give each other space. Hazel knew he was on borrowed time. “Mum, I went to the Faculty of Pharmacology today. I spoke to the Dean. He seems to know you very well.” He studied his mother’s mannerisms and body language and noticed a very quick but subtle flinch. She walked over to pour herself a glass of wine from a secret hiding place in one of the cupboards.
“How was he when you spoke to him?” she asked carefully. Hazel leaned against the side of the fridge.
“Passive,” he replied. “I could tell he wasn’t be completely truthful with me. He knew you well enough though.” His mother took another huge gulp of wine and poured herself another glass.
“Stephen, some things are best left in the past. I don’t want you uttering his name again.”
“But, Mum, I…”
“Enough now, Stephen!” They heard Lori’s excited voice coming from the living room. “Your father’s home. You’d better leave and quick.” Hazel said nothing except to make his way to the back door entrance at the far end of the kitchen. He paused to kiss his mother goodbye on the cheek before leaving.
The next morning, the three detectives were in the incident room studying the white evidence board in front of them. Hazel and Gemma were parked next to each other on the edge of a desk and Hathaway was leaning on a small filing cabinet nearby. He was watching the two youngsters but in particular, Hazel. The detective sergeant got up off the desk suddenly and walked to the board.
“The Dean wasn’t completely honest with me yesterday,” he told them. “I think he was being economical with the truth.”
“The guv and I found out Kirklees wasn’t a student at the faculty,” Gemma said, glancing at Hathaway briefly. “So, why was his passport found in this Joanna Missenden’s room?”
“More to the point, what is his relationship to Joanna Missenden?” Hathaway walked over to the board to have a closer look. He opened the file that was handed by the porter. “This is Joanna Missenden. She is 19-years-old. Originally from Staffordshire.” He handed her university record file to Hazel. The dark-haired detective sergeant looked at her passport sized photo attached to it. She was quite pretty with locks of brown hair and brown eyes. “Came top of her class at A-Level. Has ‘ambition to open her own pharmacy in her home village’.”
“It’s the simple things,” Gemma commented.
“Has Aurora come back with any further information on the substances or identification of the bodies?”
“Not yet, guv…” Gemma replied, but Hathaway politely hushed her and pointed his head towards Hazel. Gemma realised her error and didn’t say anything further. Hazel was still standing in front of the board pondering. His mind was on the case, but it was also on the conversation he had with his mother the night before. Her relationship with the Dean, if indeed there was actually one, was preying on his mind. Why was she so coy? She had always been truthful to him and never held back on anything. Did they know each other as students, as friends…? Or as something else? He didn’t realise Hathaway looking right at him from his right hand side. Only the waving of his hand vertically across his face got his attention.
“Sorry, sir.” Hathaway dropped his arm. “The Dean gave me a card of one of Kirklees’ tutors. She sometimes lectures at Brookes. I left a voicemail for her yesterday, but so far have heard nothing back.” He stopped and Hathaway waited for him to continue. “I’ll call again,” Hazel finished. “Then Gemma and I will go over there to see if she is actually lecturing there today and if not, when will be her next one.”
“Okay, good.” Hathaway was pleased with the reply. “We need to find out who he is. Meanwhile, I will go back to the college to see if I can locate this Joanna Missenden.” He looked again at Hazel and discreetly indicated Gemma behind them with a nod of the head. Hazel turned slightly to look at her.
“Gemma, go to pathology. See if Aurora has any news about the students and the cause of death. I’ll meet you outside on the station forecourt in say…” He glanced at his watch. “45 minutes?”
“Yes, sarge.” She got up and grabbed her suit jacket from a chair nearby. She picked up her phone and walked out. Hathaway observed Hazel as he walked over to collect his jacket.
“I may be the last one to talk, Stephen, but try not to let your personal life interfere with your professional one. You are in good stead. Don’t let yourself down.”
“Yes, sir.” Hazel nodded.
“I will be on my phone if you need me.” As Hathaway left, Hazel sat down on a chair and sighed heavily. He knew Hathaway was right and he had so much to lose right now. He took out his phone from his pocket and tried calling Kirklees’ tutor again. This time, he got a ringing tone.
“Hello, good morning. Am I speaking to…” He hurriedly fished a business card from his trouser pocket. “Karen Macclesfield?” He waited for the confirmation before continuing. “Hello, Ms Macclesfield, my name is Detective Sergeant Stephen Hazel from Thames Valley Police here in Oxford. I am investigating the suspected poisonings on campus… Yes, that’s right. I was given your details by the Dean of Faculty and I was wondering if my colleague and I can come and see you. I understand you are currently teaching at Brookes right now?” He listened again and nodded. “Of course… Say, midday? Thank you so much, Ms Macclesfield. See you then.” He placed his phone back on the desk and thought about things. He looked again at the white evidence board and knew this was his first major case and all eyes were on him for a successful result. He also thought about Gemma and how, indirectly, he was mentoring her. Hazel stood up, feeling positive and determined, and he grabbed his jacket deciding to meet Gemma in pathology instead.
Caroline opened the door of her and Hathaway’s abode and closed the door behind her. She felt a distinct wave of relief as she viewed the familiar entrance hall and staircase nearby. She left her bags by the foot of the stairs and picked up the letters that she accidentally stepped over on her way in. She left the keys in the tray by the mirror and walked to the kitchen.
The sun shone through as she opened the window and a cool breeze wafted in clearing the air. Caroline ran the cold water tap before filling up a tall glass she took from one of the cupboards. As she looked through the letters at the kitchen table, her mind went back to the last conversation with her father. She thought about a lot of things: her childhood, her grandparents, her first day at primary school. She remembered the stories her grandfather used to tell her about her father and she smiled. He passed away when she was 9 and that devastated her. She recalled she and her grandmother in what was then the marital bedroom during the wake, getting a bit of privacy. She loved her grandmother to pieces and in return knew she was the apple of her eye. Caroline then remembered having to say goodbye to her as she moved away for good and that would be the last time she would see her. She wondered how she and her mother even gathered the strength to carry on after all that. It shaped Caroline as a person, but also created the insecure part of her which she hated. Her thoughts then turned to Hathaway and realised she hadn’t called him yet.
Hathaway walked up the short steps and entered the campus, walking through the archway towards the grounds. He looked around and still found it to be sealed off with uniformed officers keeping guard. He acknowledged them with a nod of the head and went on his way heading back to the halls of residence where Joanna Missenden’s room was. As he stepped inside the building, his phone rang and seeing Caroline’s name, walked back out to answer.
“Hello,” he said pleasantly. “Have you missed me?” He chuckled as he heard her reply. “When did you get back?” He smiled. “Nah, we’ll order something out. Yeah, I am sure. You just take it easy… Yes, me too… What, here?” He turned a shade of red, moreover because two officers were standing nearby. “Come on, Caroline, you know I don’t need to tell you all the time…” He rolled his eyes. “I love you,” he eventually replied. The two officers looked at each other and tried not to laugh. Hathaway finished up the call and walked past them as he stepped back inside. “Not a word,” he told them with a glint in his eye. The two officers laughed quietly as he disappeared up the steps.
“Oh, don’t worry, sir. We love you, too,” one of them replied to fits of laughter. Hathaway stopped walking and couldn’t help but smile in amusement as this time he bounded up the stairs.
Aurora handed Gemma a glass of water and the poor detective constable took a seat. Her first solo foray into the world of autopsy wasn’t a particularly good one especially as she walked in just as Aurora was about to cut open the body on the slab. The pathologist viewed the young girl with empathy as she covered the body with the sheet, leaving the dissection for later on. Stephen Hazel walked in and saw what was going on. He viewed it with some kind of mirth as he walked over.
“Are you all right, Gemma?” he asked.
“Your younger one here stumbled on an autopsy,” Aurora told him. Gemma looked up at Hazel and took a sip from her glass. She eventually saw the funny side of it and smiled. “I presume you young things are after any news about the students.” She walked over to a ledge and picked up a folder. “I have managed to obtain the IDs of two of the victims.” She handed it to Hazel. “The cause of the deaths are in there, but you may be surprised by what you read.” Hazel looked at Aurora with concern as he opened up the folder. His eyes widened. “You see,” Aurora said. “This has thrown things up in the air. Nothing like an undetermined and unclear cut case to get your teeth into.” Hazel gave the folder to Gemma, who settled her glass on the ledge behind her so she could read.
“Oh, no!” she groaned. “The guv won’t be too happy with this one.”
“We have to go and tell him.” Gemma nodded and she stood up.
“Thank you for the glass of water, Doctor Aurora.”
“You are very welcome. Give my love to the groom, won’t you?” Aurora smiled as the two detectives left. Her attentions turned to the body behind her. “So… Let’s see what you can tell me.” She took up the saw and held it in the air like she was part of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
Hathaway met both Hazel and Gemma underneath the archway of the campus. He received the phone call from the previous and took note of the urgency in his voice. He was handed the folder from Gemma and looked at the reports inside, keeping an eye on Hazel as he did so. The expression on Hathaway’s face changed and both Hazel and Gemma knew he wasn’t impressed. They watched as he closed the folder and began to walk back inside the grounds.
“So, they didn’t die of poisoning. This doesn’t help,” he said stating the obvious. Hazel and Gemma struggled to keep up with his fast pace. “It turns out Joanna Missenden did abscond.” He stopped abruptly in his tracks and his junior officers nearly bumped into him.
“Do you know with whom, guv?” Gemma asked. Hathaway turned, the look on his face answering her question.
“At least we know who the bodies are.” He looked at Hazel. The young sergeant thought about things for a moment. He didn’t notice both Hathaway and Gemma looking towards an adjacent building. The elder suddenly lost patience and took over briefly. “Gemma, don’t think I am singling you out here, but go to that building. We know that the students that passed on were female. See what you can find out, but especially about Joanna Missenden.”
“Yes, guv.” Gemma ran off. Hathaway approached Hazel.
“Stephen, did you manage to secure a meeting with Kirklees’ tutor?”
“Yes, sir.” Hazel was now feeling like an idiot.
“All right. Let’s go.” He strode off ahead. Hazel angrily kicked some gravel on the ground before following him. He began to feel like he may not be Inspector material after all.
The campus lunch hall was busy as the students crammed in to be fed, watered and to gossip. Conversation, laughter and the clunk of cutlery and mobile phone alert tones filled the rafters. Hathaway and Hazel walked in only to be completely overwhelmed by what they saw. Brookes was the old polytechnic of years ago but was now a university in its own right. Granted, it will never compete with the alumni of the other and much more famous university literally up the road, but it still carried a proud reputation. Hathaway took note of his surroundings whilst Hazel arched his head trying to spot whoever this Karen Macclesfield was. He caught sight of a female in the distance waving like mad and Hazel pointed her out to Hathaway.
“Do we really look like police officers, sir?” he asked as they walked further inside. Hathaway said nothing as the female ran over to meet them. She was in her early forties with auburn hair and blue eyes. She was dressed in a long printed gypsy skirt and a white sleeveless top. Hathaway took note of her Aztec style jewellery and her brown leather flat sandals on her feet.
“Detectives!” she greeted in a very distinctive accent. “Thank you for coming. I am so sorry we are meeting in this busy place, but this is the only time I have to replenish my energy.” She took a long swig of her smoothie to the amusement of Hazel. Hathaway displayed no reaction. He watched as she finished her drink and screwed the top of the bottle shut. She then threw the bottle towards a recycling bin scoring a goal to cheers from some of the students nearby. Hazel laughed only to stop as he saw the look on Hathaway’s face. He turned a bright shade of red and looked away. Hathaway tried to hide his mirth. Karen turned to look at them. “If you would like to follow me.” They walked back out onto campus and across the grounds. “Which one of you is Stephen Hazel?” she asked.
“I am, Ms Macclesfield,” he replied. “This is Detective Inspector James Hathaway.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Karen replied looking at him.
“DS Hazel tells me you also teach at Oxford?”
“I do, yes.” Her voice dropped slightly. “My last lecture there before everything happened was to a group of students that belonged to that campus. I was devastated when I heard. Such a travesty.” The walked into another building and down a corridor. Hazel felt like he was back at secondary school again. Hathaway kept looking straight ahead.
“What do you teach here, Ms Macclesfield?” Hazel asked.
“Please, call me Karen.” She reached a door and unlocked it. She held the door open for the two detectives as they walked inside. “I teach Biomedical Science here.” She closed the door behind Hathaway and walked over to her desk. The office was pretty basic: a desk, chairs, bookshelves and a kettle with tea and coffee was on top of a table nearby. Karen indicated the chairs and the two detectives obliged.
“What about at Oxford?”
“Pharmacology,” Karen replied as she took her seat. Hathaway noticed the small desk flag not far in front of him.
“Whereabouts in New Zealand?”
“Christchurch. I left just before the earthquake back in 2010. Luckily, none of my family were affected too much.”
“How long have been teaching?”
“Here in Oxford? Four years. Before that, I was at Durham.”
“Straight off the plane?”
“Something like that, yes.” She smiled. Hazel knew he was on his own again and had to continue the questioning process.
“Ms Macclesfield… Karen, sorry. The reason for my call this morning, as you well know, is about a student called Damian Kirklees. I was told you tutored him?”
“Kirklees…” Karen wracked her brain trying to figure out the name. “Oh, yes! Damo! I remember him very well.” Concern came over her features. “Was he one of the bodies found?” Hazel glanced at Hathaway for permission to disclose but got nothing. Use your initiative, Stephen!
“No, he wasn’t.” Relief came over Karen.
“Thank goodness for that!” She smiled. “Damo… Damian, rather was quite a bright student I recall. He seemed into his periodic tables and various medicines and what they are used for. I thought perhaps he’d be better off as a medical student, but he was quite happy with the course.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Hazel took out his small pad and a pen.
“Oh gosh… A while ago now. Is he here in Oxford?” Hathaway now sat up, the hairs at the back of his neck standing on end. He and Hazel glanced at each other.
“I don’t understand, Karen. We found his passport in his room…”
“His room?” Karen’s eyebrows narrowed. “Is this the same Damian Kirklees we are talking about here?”
“Is there more than one?” Hathaway asked.
“Well, I don’t know about yours, but the Damian Kirklees I am talking about I taught at Durham. He graduated with flying colours.” She opened her desk drawer and took out a rather heavy looking leather book. Hathaway and Hazel stood up and walked over as Karen flicked through. “Here you go!” She turned the book round so it was facing them. “That is my Damian Kirklees.” She pointed to a graduation picture of a lad with blond hair and blue eyes. It was not the lad in the passport that was found. Hathaway stared at the picture and looked at Hazel. This case had just become more and more curiouser.
Hathaway turned the key in the lock and walked into the house. He called out for Caroline as he switched on the landing light and closed the door behind him. He dropped his keys on the tray by the mirror and flung his suit jacket on the banister of the stairs as he walked into the living room. Caroline was sitting on the sofa giggling at an entertainment show on TV. She turned her head and smiled as she saw Hathaway walking in. He sat down next to her and brought her close to him, kissing her good evening.
“How was your day?” she asked. “I read more about the poisoning on campus.” She took note of the look on his face and let the subject drop. She knew when he didn’t want to talk about it.
“I’ve missed you,” Hathaway said. “I was beginning to get lonely in that big bed upstairs.”
“Trust you to think about that!” Caroline said, hitting him playfully on his arm. Hathaway chuckled. He held her closer and she cuddled up to him.
“How did it go?” he asked. “Did everything go okay when you saw him?” He looked down at Caroline who just stared at the wall ahead of her.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she replied, sitting up straight. Hathaway gazed at her and gently cleared the strands of dark hair away from her face. He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek and stood up.
“I’m going to clean up,” he said. “Go order us something to eat.” He threw his wallet on the coffee table. “My card is in there.”
“James?” Caroline stood up as he walked towards the doorway. Hathaway turned. Caroline walked over to him.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Caroline replied. Hathaway took her in his arms and held her.
“I love you,” he said kissing her on the forehead. “Never forget that.”
“I won’t,” Caroline replied. “I love you, too.” They looked into each other’s eyes and smiled at each other.
Stephen Hazel was in early this time. He got in even before Bright graced the station car park. He was sitting at a desk in the incident room analysing the evidence board in front of him trying to figure this one out. He wondered what Hathaway thought of him and whether the application for assessment was justified. He still felt like a failure but knew he could still make up for it. If only there was a breakthrough in this case! He was in his white shirt and black trousers with his suit jacket of identical colour slung on the back of the chair behind him. He had his right leg crossed over his left, bent at the knee; and he was tapping the top of a pencil to his lips. His mobile phone was on the table in front of him, a few missed call alerts and a couple of text messages awaiting his perusal. A familiar four-letter name was the latest one. Hazel sat up needing a distraction and picked up his phone. He smiled as he read the message and picked up the desk phone not far away, dialling a number.
“Hiya,” he said hearing a familiar voice picking up. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. You okay?” He smiled as he heard the voice speaking to him. “Fantastic. Yeah, I’m good thanks. I’m just at the office.” He chuckled. “Yeah, you could call it that. James? No, not yet.” He stood up briefly to look at the empty corridor. He listened and blushed. “Tonight? Sure okay. I’m not sure as to what time I will be out though.” He nodded. “All right, I’ll call you. Have a good day. Yes… You, too.” He hung up and thought more about things. Gemma walked in and sat down in a chair not far in front of a cabinet. She placed her rucksack at her feet and watched Hazel’s every movement.
“What is her name?” she asked. Hazel snapped out of his trance.
“Oh, hi!” He sat up almost immediately to a grin. “When did you get here?” He took note of the rucksack.
“No, not what you think!” Gemma said. “It’s my gym gear.” Hazel looked at her and noticed her hair was slightly wet. “The guv will be late,” she told him. “He just told us to get on with it and he will catch up when he gets in.” Hazel picked up his phone again and saw the message from Hathaway. He sighed and stood up to take a closer look at the board.
“I think we should visit the Dean again,” he said. “This Damian Kirklees character is now beginning to royally irritate me.”
“Sure thing.” Gemma stood up and picked up her rucksack.
“You can leave that by my desk.”
As Gemma walked out, Hazel once more pondered about things and realised this could have the potential to be something big, maybe nothing to do with poisoning, but unless they figured out who this Damian Kirklees was, if indeed he was anyone important, they will be left at square one.
Hathaway walked out of the bedroom just in his slacks and walked down the stairs. He wasn’t in any hurry to leave. Caroline was in the kitchen sitting at the table tucking into some toast. She looked up and saw the object of her affection in the doorway.
“You decided to get up?” she asked. Hathaway walked in and gave her a kiss, gently pulling down the spaghetti strap of her top off her shoulder. “Don’t start,” she told him stopping him from going further. Hathaway grinned and walked off to get a mug from the cupboard. He sat down opposite her and poured some coffee in from the cafetière in the middle of the table. He watched her carefully as she ate, a cheeky glint in his eye. Caroline became aware and stopped as she opened her mouth to take another bite of her toast. Hathaway laughed as she gave him a look.
“You doing much today?” he asked. Caroline shook her head.
“Actually, I might go to County Hall. There is something I want to check out.”
“Oh, yeah?” Hathaway was intrigued. “Like what?”
“Just something. I just want to double check on one thing.”
“Is this something to do with your father?”
“Kinda, yes.” Caroline sighed and looked at him. “He said something to me before I left. He told me that Mum lied to me, but he didn’t say what.”
“Your mother wasn’t a liar. She was open with both of us.”
“I know. That’s what made it odd. I don’t know if he was just being his spiteful self, but something in his voice told me he may be telling the truth. I just want to look for a couple of things in records.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Hathaway took a sip of his coffee.
“You need to get to work. I will be all right. It may be nothing anyway.” She stood up with her empty plate and walked to the sink, placing it inside. “Don’t do any research.” She turned to look at him. Hathaway smiled.
“How can I if I don’t know what it is.” He placed his mug on the table and walked over to her. He noticed the distressed look on her face. “Caroline… Hey.” She looked at him. “What happened?”
“Nothing, Blue Eyes.”
“Then what is it you need to check at County Hall?” Caroline bowed her head.
“He told me to ask myself who I really was. That has been bugging me. He also told me to ask myself why he really left. James, I really don’t know why he is saying this now, after all these years.” Hathaway held her arms gently.
“Let me come with you,” he told her again. Caroline looked up at him.
“What about work? Don’t you have a case…?”
“That will take care of itself. You are far more important.”
“Just don’t do anything behind my back, James. I am warning you…”
“Or what?” Hathaway now was looking at her playfully. He stroked Caroline’s neck with the side of his finger. He stopped as he saw the seriousness on her features and reluctantly nodded. Caroline gazed into his blue eyes and thanked him. She tiptoed to try and kiss him but had trouble. She squealed as Hathaway lifted her up. Their lips met, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“What time does County Hall open?” she asked as she kissed him again.
“Who cares,” Hathaway replied. “They close at four.” He kissed her and lifted her up again, leading her out of the kitchen, into the corridor and up the stairs.
Both Gemma and Hazel left the Dean’s office disappointed. They were told he was away at a conference and wouldn’t be back for a week. This just made things difficult for the detectives as they hit a dead end. But, what about Joanna Missenden? It didn’t help that Hathaway didn’t brief them properly nor that the students were dismissed temporarily, but maybe they would still be hanging around? Gemma suggested the Bodleian and Hazel nodded. They crossed the road towards his car and they both got in, Hazel in the driving seat. Hathaway may have expected him to drive, but the manners installed in him always told him he should drive a female passenger. He turned the key in the ignition and glanced at both his side and rear view mirrors before indicating and driving off down the road.
The Bodleian was busy as always, a mix of tourists and students filling the grounds both inside and outside the gated entrance. Stephen Hazel and Gemma got out of their car and had a look from where they were positioned. They looked at each other grimly and took a deep breath before walking across the road. They walked into the library grounds and managed to thread themselves through the crowds and past the Earl of Pembroke statue. Once they got inside, they walked straight to the desk to the right showing their warrant cards.
“Good afternoon. I am Detective Sergeant Hazel, and this is my colleague Detective Constable Richardson. We are investigating the deaths on the Pharmacology campus. I was wondering if you could tell us if any of the students are still here? We know that the whole faculty has been dismissed albeit temporarily whilst this investigation is taking place, but we do need to speak to some of the students.” The receptionist waved a colleague over and a middle aged guy in a suit approached them. Hazel glanced at his badge on his blazer pocket.
“Yes, detectives, how can I help you?”
Hazel repeated his greeting. He and Gemma were ushered into the main library and down a few corridors. They were pointed in the direction of a few students gathered in one corner. He was told this was the science area and that he may find some of the pharmacology students there. Hazel thanked him, and he and Gemma walked over towards them.
There were five or six students seated at a table in front of many textbooks looking all very studious. One of them looked up and nudged her friend next to her. Gemma came into view and showed her warrant card. The students sat up and left their studies. Hazel introduced himself and the reason for their visit. The students all glanced at each other wondering what to say. One of them, a female with red hair tied in a loose ponytail, looked directly at Hazel.
“There was a party a few nights ago,” she told them. “Nothing sinister. Just a few of us letting off steam. This semester has been a right bitch for all of us.”
“Miss…?”
“Creighton,” she replied. “Amanda.”
“Miss Creighton,” Hazel began. “Which faculty are you in?”
“Pharmacology,” she replied. “All of us are. We decided to stay as… Well…”
“We’re not welcome,” one of other students replied. He was of South Asian descent and wearing a checked shirt and jeans. Gemma looked at him.
“Unwelcome at the faculty or…?”
“He means home.” Another student piped up for him. She was of South East Asian descent with long black hair. “We’re all foreign students, detective. We can’t go back home.”
“So, where are you all staying?” Gemma asked. “Campus is sealed off…”
“The university is putting us up somewhere,” Amanda replied, her accent becoming stronger. “Temporary digs until all this is cleared up.” There was irritation in her voice, but Gemma put it down to embarrassment and humiliation more than anything.
“Can I ask you guys if you know of a Joanna Missenden?” There was silence. The students looked at each other but said nothing. Gemma looked at Hazel and knew they were keeping something from them.
“What about Damian Kirklees?” Hazel asked. “Do any of you know him?” Again, there was silence. Hazel didn’t want to force them to say anything, so he took out one of his cards and placed it on the table. “Just in case you all decide to come forward,” he told them gently. “No pressure.” He made his move to leave. Gemma looked back at the students.
“Thank you for your time,” she said to them politely as she followed Hazel out. They walked back through the crowds and towards their car. “What do you make of that one, sarge?”
“They know something. But, their bond is stopping them from saying anything,” Hazel replied. He looked at Gemma from his side of the car. “One of them will come forward. Wait a couple of days.”
“Where to now, sarge?” Hazel thought about things.
“Just get in,” Hazel replied opening the door. Gemma nodded and opened the door on her side.
Port Meadow was a huge green area outside the city centre. It provided wonderful views of the spires in the distance. It also offered solitude, especially on days such as this one. A figure cast a lonely one as it sat on a bench. There was a breeze which caught the figure, but this was a welcome breeze, one which cooled. The figure looked at the time and took in more of the breeze, closing their eyes as they did so. In the distance, another figure walked down the path slowly. The sound of shoes made noises as the heels hit the gravel. The other figure took note and stood up and was handed an envelope. The messenger then walked past without saying a word. The recipient placed the envelope into a bag and walked off in the opposite direction.
Chief Superintendent Bright looked at both Hazel and Gemma in front of her. The station was once again busy, and the muffled sounds of CID were heard from outside. The two detectives knew they had to keep their superior in the loop, Hazel especially. Bright scanned her two officers in front of her, left to right, right to left. She sighed irritably and sat down.
“Where is James Hathaway?” she eventually asked.
“No idea, ma’am,” Hazel replied. “He was supposed to come in late, but so far nothing.”
“Up to old tricks again, no doubt.” This was no surprise to Bright. “I begin to wonder how Jean Innocent put up with his shenanigans.” Gemma and Hazel glanced at each other. “All right, thanks for the update. You have my permission to go through Hathaway’s notes. Just make sure you put things back as you found them, although knowing Hathaway he will spot this a mile off.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” The two detectives turned to leave.
“One moment. DC Richardson?”
“Yes, ma’am?” She turned and walked back over. Bright stood up.
“How are you finding it? I haven’t had time to speak to you properly since you were reassigned.”
“Good thank you, ma’am,” Gemma replied. “Both the sarge here and the guv have been good teachers so far.”
“Good to know.” She paused. “I spoke to your mother recently, Gemma. She is very proud of what you are achieving. You take after her.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I guess I got the bug from her and Dad also. She used to tell me about this place.”
“We have something in common in a way. Although mine is indirect, it seems that their descendants will always come back here to carry on where they left off.”
“Yes, ma’am. Mum was surprised when I decided to serve here instead of the Met. Her eyes went misty somewhat, like she was reminiscing. She told me all about your grandfather-in-law, ma’am, once I told her you were my senior officer. She had so much respect and admiration for him.”
Bright smiled. “I never met him unfortunately, but my husband told me many a story. Some say I remind them of him.” Gemma smiled. “All right!” Bright snapped back into crime solving mode. “You two find out what you can from James’s notes. I am going to give our runaway DI a call.” Gemma nodded and followed Hazel out. Bright watched as the door closed and sat back down slowly. She opened a drawer and took out what was a very worn folder and opened it. Inside were some notes, yellow with age, all done via typewriter, pictures attached. They were officers of old. She looked through them one by one: Detective Sergeant Jim Strange, Detective Sergeant Peter Jakes (retired – emigrated), Detective Constable George Fancy (deceased), Detective Chief Inspector Fred Thursday, Detective Sergeant Endeavour Morse, WPC Shirley Trewlove and Chief Superintendent Reginald Bright. She lifted that one out and read it to herself looking at the picture of the bespectacled former Army officer. Tears came over the younger Bright’s eyes as she stared at the kind but strict face of her grandfather-in-law. Her eyes drifted to a framed picture of her husband and she gently ran her finger across his face. “I hope the two of you are happy up there,” she said with a smile. Just as quickly, she again snapped out of it and placed the papers back in the folder placing it back in her drawer. She picked up the phone on her desk and dialled a number, placing the receiver to her ear waiting for Hathaway to pick up.
Hathaway looked at the incoming call and quickly rejected it before he got thrown out. Caroline looked at him and he placed it on vibrate. She shook her head slowly in disapproval and continued to look through the records. They were at County Hall. Hathaway was sitting next to her keeping an eye on the screen in case he spotted something or if Caroline missed a bit of information. She was looking at the marriage records of yesteryear. She started in the 1960s but that came up a blank. The 1970s also was a dead end. Caroline sighed heavily. She looked at Hathaway with a hopeless expression on her face. He then had a brainwave and nudged her hand gently wanting to take over. She dragged her chair to the side so Hathaway could face the screen properly. She watched as he typed something in and hit enter. A set of figures came up with various years next to them. Hathaway then typed a name and another set of information appeared. Caroline’s eyes widened. Why didn’t she think of that! She smiled as he shifted back to the right and once again she took over. She scrolled down with the mouse and started taking notes. All the time, Hathaway watched her with the same look of adoration he always had for her. He gently kissed her hair before whispering he was going to call in from outside. Caroline looked at him and nodded before getting back to it.
Hathaway stepped out outside and crossed the car park to the entrance gates. He placed his mobile phone handset to his ear and waited. He heard Bright’s voice and waited until she had finished. Why she was like this he couldn’t understand. It wasn’t as if Hazel was totally incompetent he had to always be there. Hathaway rolled his eyes.
“… You there, Hathaway?”
“Ma’am.” Hathaway found no point in trying to state his case. He nodded, looking at the sky all the time and finally the call ended. He placed his phone back in his pocket and walked across the car park. If Hazel needed him, he would call. His priority was again Caroline and he was making mental notes to do some work of his own once he got back to the station. He ran up the steps and walked through the double white doors.
Gemma and Hazel were at the latter’s desk next to each other going through Hathaway’s notes. There really wasn’t much to go on, mostly because this Joanna Missenden was just as evasive as Damian Kirklees. They looked through some of the pictures of the items found in her room and a few SOCO reports he had retrieved. Hazel looked at Gemma, who was reading one piece of paper quietly.
“You and Bright seem to get on,” he said. Gemma nodded and smiled.
“Her grandfather-in-law and my mother knew each other many moons ago.”
“I know that,” Hazel replied wanting more. Gemma placed the paper down and looked at him. She reached behind and took out a thin wallet from her suit jacket pocket. She took out a picture and gave it to him.
“This was my mother back in the day. She worked here.” Hazel looked at the blonde uniformed officer and gawped.
“Wow!” he exclaimed. Gemma giggled.
“Yeah, she was a looker. She had no end of admirers is what she told me. One of them was a DC here, but she rejected his advances. He was killed apparently. Mum left Oxford not long after. She always said she secretly liked someone else she worked with, but never told me who it was. No matter how hard I tried, even to catch her out, she maintained her stance. But, whenever I asked she had this look on her face. Whoever this person was, he must have meant a great deal.”
“What was her name?” Hazel asked as he handed the photo back.
“Shirley,” she replied. “Shirley Trewlove. She met my father on some drugs bust. He was a DI in a neighbouring borough.”
“Amazing,” Hazel replied fascinated. Gemma grinned.
“Mum used to mention this station a lot. She had a lot of affection for it. She felt restricted here somewhat, that she thought working for the Met would offer a lot of opportunity. But, this was back in the 1970s. Not much for female officers, but Mum always said even if there wasn’t much scope, it was a lot more than if she stuck here. This station closed for a while. All the people she worked with, including the Super’s relation, were assigned to different stations. Mum thought that gave her the opportunity to leg it. She hasn’t looked back since. London suited her I think.”
“What about this person she had affection for?”
“I have no idea.” Gemma shook her head slowly. “As far as she knew, by doing a bit of digging, he became Inspector. Other than that, she told me she stopped looking. Her career was more important to her.”
“I see.” Hazel looked at Gemma and became embarrassed as he realised the look he was giving her. Gemma blushed for the first time and cleared her throat.
“Let’s get on with this,” she said. Hazel nodded and the two of them carried on looking and reading, but the young sergeant could not help but continue to look at her.
Hathaway dropped off Caroline not far from where they lived, giving her a quick kiss before she disembarked. She closed the door and waved him goodbye before he drove off the down the street. He supposed he’d better get back to work. He wasn’t dressed appropriately, but he didn’t care. He knew that Bright gave Hazel and Gemma permission to go through his notes, but he also knew that they wouldn’t find much as he didn’t discover anything of any use when he visited her room to give it another look through. Hathaway suddenly saw a young woman oblivious to him cross the road and he hit the brakes violently, the car coming to a screeching halt not even a couple of inches by her feet. He leaned out of the open window and yelled at her, which was unprofessional, but more because he was calling her out for not taking care. The woman looked at him briefly stunned before she held her hand out in apology and ran across to the other side of the road. Hathaway shook his head at her stupidity and drove off again.
Gemma and Hazel looked up as Hathaway strode in. The two youngsters took note of how casually he was dressed, like he had just been on a run, and didn’t say a word. Hathaway took one look at Hazel’s messy desk, which was full of papers, and sat down at his, throwing his hooded jacket over the back of the chair. He settled down before looking at them.
“Find anything?” he asked. The two junior officers shook their heads. Hathaway knew this was going to be the case. Hazel once again felt like an idiot. It was his idea in the first place. He felt like telling Bright he didn’t want to pursue the Inspector’s assessment. Hathaway held his hand out and Hazel quickly gathered the papers together, placing it into the folder and closing it. He stood up to hand it over, but Gemma did the honours as she was nearer. Hathaway took it from her and dropped it casually by his in tray. “Any news?” he asked them. Hazel didn’t feel like replying, but an encouraging nudge of the ankle from Gemma persuaded him to oblige.
“The Dean is away at a conference,” he replied. “He won’t be back for a week at least. We wanted to question him again about Kirklees. He definitely knows more than he is letting on.”
“Okay, keep with that one. Anything else?”
“We went to the Bodleian,” Gemma answered. “We thought it be a good idea to see if there are any students still hanging around as they could help you… I mean us with the identity of Joanna Missenden, and if they knew of Kirklees. We came across a few, all foreign students, but they didn’t or wouldn’t let anything on. The sarge left his card with them on a hunch that one or more of them will come forward.”
“That is more than likely,” Hathaway agreed. “Especially if the ringleader isn’t around. Gemma, did you find anything out from that building on campus you went to?”
“Only confirmation that Missenden was a student and her digs. Nothing more. No one had heard of Kirklees either. I only came across the confirmation of the assessment she was up for. Apparently, she would have passed that one easily.”
Hathaway nodded once in acknowledgement. “All right, keep at it.” He stood up. “Is Bright in?”
“Yes, guv.”
“I’d best face the music.” He walked out. Gemma looked at Hazel and took note of the look on his face.
“Don’t worry, sarge. He approves.”
“I hope so. I feel like he isn’t happy at all with how I am leading this case.” Gemma put her arm around his shoulders and rubbed his right arm. Hazel glanced at it and looked at Gemma. Nothing was exchanged between them, but the way they were looking at each other was all to see. Hazel’s phone on his desk vibrated suddenly and the ringtone went off, the all familiar four-letter name flashing up. Gemma looked at it and stood up. Hazel sighed as he answered. “Hiya,” he greeted. “No, I am still here. It will be a while I’m afraid… Yes, of course. All right. I’ll call you I promise. Bye.” He placed the phone back on his desk and turned to speak to Gemma only to find she had gone. Her rucksack was also missing. Hazel leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “You idiot!” he muttered under his breath and thumped his fist on the desk. This was only getting worse.
The young woman whom Hathaway nearly knocked over ran inside a residential property and slammed the door behind her taking deep breaths. She had sprinted all the way. She had wavy strawberry blonde hair with freckles on her cheeks. Her hazel eyes were slightly dilated and her vision slightly blurry. The corridor ahead of her started spinning and she shook her head violently trying to shake it off. It didn’t work however, and she slid down onto the floor below. She hunched her knees to her chest and began to sob, the sounds of her tears echoing throughout the empty corridor ahead of her.
Hathaway walked out of Bright’s office. He just had the most pointless conversation which amused him somewhat as he knew it was a complete overreaction. He walked through the double doors towards the incident room when Gemma ran down the corridor towards him. She had her mobile phone in her hand. Hathaway stopped dead in his tracks and was concerned by the look on her features.
“Gemma?” he asked.
“Aurora, guv,” she replied. “She wants to see us. She found out something she thinks we ought to know.” They gathered up speed as they paced down the corridor.
“Where’s Hazel?”
“Already on his way.” Hathaway took note of the grim look on Gemma’s features as he pushed open the next set of doors ahead, letting the younger officer walk through first.
Aurora picked up her clipboard and signed her name at the bottom of a piece of paper before handing it to her assistant. She gave her a few instructions before walking away. She took off her flimsy and thin white plastic apron and shoved it in the pedal bin nearby. She then opened the tap by the long handle via her elbow and began cleaning herself up. The door opened, and the three detectives walked inside. Aurora glanced at them before drying her hands and lower arms with a paper towel.
“Hello again!” she greeted as she chucked it in the bin. “You all got my message I take it?” The three officers stood in an open cluster, Gemma in front being the shortest. Aurora walked over to a table where she picked up yet another folder. “The last student to be admitted died overnight. I just finished my once over.” She approached the three detectives. “I have managed to find an ID for this one via her student card. Next of kin have been informed.” She gave the folder to Gemma. Her eyes widened as did Hazel’s. Hathaway however stayed expressionless.
“Joanna Missenden…” Gemma whispered. “Cause of death…”
“Strangulation and possible sexual assault?!” Bright could not believe her ears as Hazel repeated the words on the report. “How ‘possible’ is ‘possible’?”
“More than likely, ma’am,” he replied. He and Gemma were standing in Bright’s office in front of her desk. “It ties in with the party on campus. SOCO found some tasteless items in one of the rooms.”
“Any news on the rape kit?”
“In progress, ma’am. Aurora marked it as urgent.”
“This Joanna Missenden… Do we know anything about her?”
Gemma and Hazel looked at each other.
“Pharmacology student,” Hazel replied. “A gifted one. She was put forward for an assessment that only 10% of the intake qualify for. She was only 19, ma’am.”
“So, now it is a murder and sex crime investigation?!” Bright sighed heavily. “What about the causes of death for the other students? We know it wasn’t poisoning.”
“Not sure, but it might be a case of over indulgence,” Gemma replied.
“Urgh!” Bright was even more disgusted. “Students today. I hate to think what will happen when Thrashing season is upon us. All right, thanks for the update. Keep me in the loop.”
“You didn’t mention anything about Kirklees, sarge!” Gemma was a bit perplexed. They had not long started the walk back down to their office.
“Need to know basis,” Hazel replied. He stopped walking. “Hang on!” Gemma, a few strides ahead, turned to look at him. He jogged up to her. “You know something, don’t you?”
“Just a hunch, sarge.” Hazel noticed the spark in her eyes and smiled.
“Tell me.”
“You know when we first went inside the halls and I had a word with the SOCO about that bottle he had?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I also slipped a note to him to find out or to start a process whether the wine had been tampered with. We know it wasn’t poison, but it is near the end of testing. I will head over to toxicology once I get the go ahead.” Hazel looked straight at Gemma with some sort of admiration. Whatever kind of officer her mother was back in the day, he bet she was a very intelligent and proactive one.
“Good one, Gem!” he said. “Best let Hathaway know.” They smiled at each other before Gemma’s phone rung. She answered, and Hazel waited patiently. Gemma nodded as she listened to the voice on the other end. Hazel watched as she placed her phone back in her trouser pocket. “Are you all right?” he asked with concern.
“Yeah! Absolutely, sarge!” Gemma smiled. She found herself gazing into Hazel’s dark eyes. Hathaway’s sudden presence interrupted their ‘moment’ and Hazel cleared his throat deliberately and took a step backwards. Gemma looked away trying to feign innocence. Hathaway looked at both his officers trying so hard not to look amused.
“All right, we need to look back on what we have on Kirklees.”
“The passport, guv…?”
“Forged it looks like or a fake one. I am still awaiting a call back.” Gemma nodded. She saw Hazel looking at her giving her the nod. Hathaway glanced at his sergeant.
“Guv, I did some of my own work earlier.”
“Like what?” Hathaway asked. They all started the walk back down the corridor.
“The bottle the SOCO had back at the Halls of Residence. I asked him to find out for me whether the alcohol itself had been tampered with. If it is indeed a faulty batch, that would explain why only those students were affected.”
“Do you know when you will find out?”
“Soon, hopefully. The testing is nearing completion. I will get the nod once it’s done.”
“When you do, give me a shout and I will go with you.”
“Guv?” Gemma’s suspicions picked up. She stopped walking. Hathaway turned.
“Just let me know when you do hear back, Gemma.” As Hathaway continued on his way, Gemma walked slowly towards Hazel.
“Is he always so secretive?” she asked him as the tall inspector disappeared through a set of double doors.
“Yep!” Hazel replied. “I have worked with him for quite a while and he still surprises me. Sometimes, you have to second guess what he is thinking or could be thinking. But, nine times out of ten you will always be wrong.” He paused. “Gemma, I was wondering…?
“I can’t.” The regrettable sound of her voice sank his heart. “I’m really sorry.” She tried not to look too disappointed as she walked off ahead. Hazel placed his hands in his pockets and looked to the ceiling. Such as he was so in tune with his emotions, he couldn’t help but take the rejection a little bit too literally. He blinked back tears and gained his composure before following the Londoner down the corridor and into his and Hathaway’s office.
The girl with the strawberry blonde hair and freckles walked slowly down the stairs of the house she ran into. She looked a lot better of late and was wearing black and white print joggers and a white crop top. Her hair was tied neatly at the back of her head. She had house slippers on her feet and a glass of water in her hand. She walked down the corridor into the living room where she sat down on the sofa turning on the television and set top box via the remote controls on the rather messy coffee table in front of her. Straight away, a local news channel came on and an updated report about the student deaths. The girl’s eyes widened as she saw a quick shot of Hathaway and nearly dropped the glass of water she was holding. She placed that on the table and shakily took out her mobile phone from her pocket. She accessed a number and waited.
“Hello, it’s me. I’m just watching the local news. They know. The last victim died of strangulation. It’s coming full circle. I’m worried.” She listened and nodded. “All right. No. No one is here. All right.” The call ended, and she placed the handset next to the glass. She continued to watch but the shaking got too much. She grabbed a small glass pot near the remote controls and ran out of the room.
Caroline finished off her dinner and her glass of water. She looked at Hathaway next to her and tried not to laugh as he had his mouth full looking very savage. She placed the plate from her lap to the table with her glass next to it. Hathaway mercilessly devoured the rest of his dinner and let out a small belch. Caroline rolled her eyes and stood up to collect the plates, but Hathaway stopped her, and she sat back down.
“You okay?” she asked. Hathaway turned his position so he was facing her. He took her hands in his and raised them to kiss them. He looked into her eyes as he did so. Caroline smiled, but knew him well enough that he was on the verge of telling her something. She waited patiently.
“Caroline…” He paused to mute the volume on the television. Caroline’s eyes watched his movements and again she smiled at him. She reached over to stroke his cheek and Hathaway held her hand, keeping it there. “Whatever you find out,” he began. “I just want you to know that I will always be here for you. I won’t leave you…”
“James, I know you won’t.” Caroline gently took her hand away. “Have you been doing research like I told you not to?”
“No, I haven’t. Seriously.” His face broke into a smile when he saw she didn’t believe him. Caroline stood back up to collect the plates. Hathaway picked up the glasses and followed her out and into the kitchen. He placed the glasses on the ledge by the new dishwasher and watched Caroline place the dirty dishes inside. “I am glad you do not drink,” he suddenly said. Caroline, crouched down in front of the open dishwasher door, turned her head and looked at him strangely.
“Are you really okay?” she asked, standing up and walking towards the cupboards under the sink taking a dishwasher tablet from the plastic container. She nearly screamed as she saw the figure of Hathaway standing right in front of her. “Don’t do that!” she said nearly hitting him. “You always do that.” She walked past.
“I love you, Caroline!” Hathaway turned. Caroline closed the dishwasher door and switched it on. She looked at him. “I nearly lost you once. I don’t want to lose you again.” Caroline’s eyebrows narrowed in concern and she walked over to him. Hathaway placed his hands on her hips and gently lifted her up so she could sit on the kitchen sink top. She placed her arms around his neck and looked at him.
“I’m not going anywhere either,” she told him softly. “You know how stubborn I am. You will have to drag me from this world screaming.” But what was a jokey comment backfired as she took note of the serious and rather worrying look on his face. Hathaway leaned forward to kiss her.
“You are going to be my wife. I can’t envisage spending the rest of my life without you…”
“James, you are not your father. You do not need to worry. You won’t turn out like him.” A tear fell from Hathaway’s face, and Caroline gently wiped away with the side of her right thumb. “Come on. What’s the matter? Is it this case you are trying to solve?”
“I don’t bring my work home with me,” Hathaway told her not taking his eyes off her. Caroline nodded. She knew not to push. If Hathaway was going to tell her anything, it would be when he was ready. Hathaway kissed her again. “What about Cambridge as a venue?”
“What? Seriously?” Caroline wasn’t happy with that idea.
“Well, where do you want to get married?”
“I don’t know.” Caroline shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it.” She paused. “I promise to share everything I find out.”
“Good.” Hathaway seemed relieved with the reply. “No secrets.”
“None.” Caroline nodded once in finality. “What about here in Oxford?”
“What?!” Now it was Hathaway’s turn to be unimpressed. “Why would I want to get married to you here?!”
“Well, give me another idea then, genius!” They both laughed softly. Hathaway held her gently. “This case… I know it is affecting you, Blue Eyes. I will always be here when or if you decide to talk about it.” Hathaway looked at her and saw the sincerity in her eyes. He said nothing but plant a loving kiss on her forehead.
Gemma Richardson got to the office early on the premise that toxicology might call. The clock on the wall told her it was 8.30am. She dropped her rucksack by her feet and sat down on the chair on the other side of Hazel’s desk. She looked around the office and wondered when she would get her own desk. There was certainly room for it. Gemma sighed and started to tap her fingers on the table making a tune. She suddenly thought of something and picked up her rucksack, rummaging inside finding her mobile phone only to groan when she saw the very low battery level.
“Oh, bloody hell, Martin!” she exclaimed in some sort of despair. She rummaged back inside her bag looking for her charger. At that moment, the desk phone rang, and she dropped her bag to quickly answer. “Oxford City CID, DC Richardson speaking. Okay, hold on.” She reached over to pick up a pad of paper and a pen from beside the computer keyboard. “All right, go ahead.” She nodded as she began jotting down some information. “Are you sure this is the case?” She nodded again and resumed writing. “Okay. I’ll meet you say…” She glanced at the clock behind her. “15-20 minutes?” She nodded again. “All right. Thank you.” She placed the receiver back on the cradle and tore off the paper from its bonding before running out the door only to return a split second later to whip her suit jacket from behind the chair she was sitting on. She quickly jotted down a message for Hazel and Hathaway before leaving, neglecting to collect her mobile phone which was left behind on the table…
Stephen Hazel pulled up outside and pressed the palm of his hand on the horn. A loud beep echoed throughout the deserted residential street and a front door opened. Hathaway stepped out putting on his suit jacket. He looked grimly at the grey sky above him. Caroline appeared on the doorstep and they have each other a lengthy kiss goodbye. Hazel, even though he was watching from a distance, felt awkward as if he was intruding. He heard Caroline call him and he reached over to open the passenger door as Hathaway walked towards him.
“Hiya, Caroline!” Hazel called out. “How are you?”
“Good thanks, Stephen.” Hathaway got in and closed the door. He pressed the button to draw down the window as Caroline approached them. “Is he behaving himself?” she asked. Hazel grinned.
“I’ll keep him in check, Caroline. Don’t you worry.” Hazel started to laugh. Caroline smiled.
“All right, you two. Off you go. Have a good one.”
“See you, Caroline.” Hazel pushed down the handbrake ready to go. Caroline and Hathaway looked at each other.
“Stay safe,” she said. Hathaway took her hand to kiss the palm before he and Hazel drove off. The younger still had a grin on his face as he concentrated on the road ahead. Hathaway said nothing as he rested his left arm on the open window.
“What?” he asked. Hazel shook his head in reply. Hathaway could not help but laugh quietly as they joined a small tailback on the main road.
Gemma walked around the corner and down a pathway on the way to the meeting point. It was overcast, but dry and there was a distinct chill in the air. Gemma wrapped her suit jacket around her tightly. But, as she began to head towards the meeting place her suspicions gave her the message that things weren’t right. She stopped and took the piece of paper from her pocket. She read the directions quietly to herself and looked back up. Sure enough, there was the building in the distance. Gemma thought about things for a moment before realising that she left her mobile phone at the station. She tutted at her stupidity, but knew this person had essential information to share. She took a deep breath and continued to walk. All the time she was aware of her surroundings and kept looking round just in case. She reached the brown door and saw a buzzer just as she wrote down. Gemma decided to take a step back to look at the building. The hairs at the back of her neck pricked up. Her worst suspicions were confirmed as just as she was about to walk away, a figure appeared in front of her blocking her way. Gemma looked at the person in front of her and hoped she would get through this unscathed.
Hathaway and Hazel walked into their office and the youngster sat down in his chair. His superior hung his suit jacket on the coat rack and took his phone out of his trouser pocket as he sat down in front of his desk. Hazel noticed Gemma’s message and found it to be strange. He bent down to look under his desk and saw her open rucksack. He sat back up and picked up her mobile phone. He noticed it had one battery bar left and his eyebrows narrowed. He accessed the last calls list but didn’t recognise any numbers.
“Did Gemma mention anything about going anywhere this morning?” he asked Hathaway. “Her mobile phone is here, and she left a written message.”
“What message?” Hathaway looked up from his desk. Hazel picked up the notepad and walked over. Hathaway took the pad from him and read the message to himself. He sat up and picked up the desk phone dialling an internal extension. “It’s Hathaway. Did Richardson pass by you earlier this morning?” He listened to the reply. “Did she tell you where she was going? All right. Thanks.” He hung up. “What about toxicology?” he suggested. “She might have gone there.”
“But, surely she would have waited until you arrived, sir,” Hazel replied remembering Hathaway asking specifically to accompany her. Worry came over him. “This doesn’t sound too good. She even left her mobile phone behind.” Hathaway arched his neck and saw the handset on Hazel’s desk. He glanced at his junior officer and picked up the phone.
“It’s me again. Can you possibly tell me the last number to call Hazel’s extension? Anytime after eight this morning. Okay, I’ll hold.” He placed his hand over the mouthpiece. “Anything on her phone?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“No,” Hazel replied. “Just a bunch of numbers I do not recognise. The last one was dated yesterday evening.”
“Call it just in… Hello, yes.” Hathaway grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and was prepared to write until he got some news he wasn’t happy with. “And you sure her car park space is empty?” The look on his face soured. “Hey! Who do you think you are talking to?” He heard the person apologise and his facial expression relaxed. He hung up again and looked at Hazel who was in the process of calling the last number on Gemma’s phone.
“Hello? Yes, hi. My name is Stephen. I am a colleague of Gemma’s. With whom am I speaking to, please?” Hazel didn’t know what to make of it. “Thank you for your help.” He hung up. Hathaway stood up.
“I’m heading over to toxicology. Hazel, call Fraise. I know he is IT but see if he can run a scan on your line.”
“Do you think something could have happened, sir?” But Hathaway grabbed his jacket. “Call me when you find out.” He ran out. Hazel now began to panic slightly. He hoped Gemma hadn’t gone off on some sole crusade. He picked up the phone to do as what Hathaway asked him.
Gemma walked inside the building and took a look around. It wasn’t anything to write home about: it was fairly bright but dusty with very outdated office furniture dotted about. She took note of a few folders and a big leather book on a table near the wall which had a big dull oval shaped mirror above it. The figure whom she collided with walked ahead of her. She noticed the trainers and a squash racquet in its case propped up against another wall. Gemma looked straight ahead and waited. She was secretly kicking herself for being too overzealous and that she could have waited for either Hathaway, Hazel or both to arrive first. Nerves started to get the better of her, but she made sure she disguised it well – at least she hoped she did. The huge slam of a door made her jump as the deep and hollow echo filled the room and she saw a figure walk towards her. Knowing her she was alone and also vulnerable, Gemma knew she was in trouble. A hand struck her across her face and she fell to the floor.
Hathaway ran out of toxicology with a piece of paper in his hand and met Hazel who had decided to meet him halfway. The young sergeant read the report and panic now set in. Gemma was in trouble. Hathaway asked him if the trace was a success and Hazel nodded. They sprinted to his car and both got in, Hathaway deciding to take control of the steering wheel. Hazel hadn’t even time to strap himself in when Hathaway stepped on the accelerator and the car gathered up speed as it left the courtyard, a screeching sound echoing off the parked cars and painted vehicles.
The Dean’s secretary stood up and called out for help as both Hathaway and Hazel burst in storming down the corridor without showing their warrant cards. She picked up the phone to call for assistance when Hathaway turned.
“We are the police,” he told her as he opened the door.
The Dean was in the middle of a meeting when the two officers walked in. Straight away, he stood up and both Hazel and Hathaway walked over towards him. The Dean viewed this all with disapproval and disgust.
“Excuse me!” he told them. “What is the meaning of this? I am in the middle of a…”
“Your meeting has to wait.” Hathaway looked at the two people beside him and took out his warrant card. “Detective Inspector Hathaway,” he introduced himself. “We need to have a word with the Dean. We are sorry to interrupt, but unfortunately, this cannot wait. If you don’t mind, please.” Hazel kindly escorted the visitors out the door. The Dean now was very annoyed and a look of anger flashed across his features.
“What is the meaning of this?!” he asked as Hazel closed the door shut. “How dare you barge in here just like that. Who is your superior officer…?”
“Damian Kirklees,” Hathaway interrupted. “Now, my colleague here and I have tried very hard to figure out who he is and why you are so reluctant to be honest with who he really is. We found a forged passport in a room which we now think is planted to throw us off the scent. Damian Kirklees isn’t a student at the university nor was he ever. One of our officers is currently following a lead which puts her and us in danger. We need to find out what is going on.”
The Dean took note of the words spoken and sighed heavily. He walked over to the tray to pour himself a drink. Hazel rolled his eyes thinking this was not the right time. The Dean threw the contents of his drink down his throat and slammed the tumbler back down on the tray. He turned. “What I have told your sergeant there, Inspector is the truth. Damian Kirklees was a pharmacology student…”
“Don’t lie to us, sir!” Hathaway now was losing patience. “Joanna Missenden was supposedly one of your top students. She died of strangulation which took place in someone else’s room. Conveniently, this fake passport was found in her room. Now, I don’t know about you, but this we are lead to believe that someone whom she knew she absconded with did this to her…”
“I have told you what I know, Inspector!” The Dean wouldn’t budge from his position. He looked at Hazel. “Now, if your colleague is in danger, I can only apologise and hope he or she is all right. I have said what I needed to say. All I have to say. Now, if you can both please leave…”
“Joanna also was subject to a serious sexual assault before she died,” Hazel interrupted, his voice calm and in complete contrast to Hathaway’s. He picked up on a reaction from the Dean. “We think our colleague received a call from someone who was going to give false information, a ruse as it were. I spoke to my mother, sir, and she didn’t view you highly. In fact, she told me in no uncertain terms not to, and I quote: ‘utter your name again’ unquote. Looking at how you are treating a simple but urgent query from my superior officer here, I can see why. DC Richardson is new to her job, but a very fine officer with loads of potential for the future, not unlike Joanna Missenden. I am going to ask you again, sir – who is Damian Kirklees and does he have any links to Joanna, the other students, or was he just a red herring to throw us off the scent?” Hathaway could not help but be proud of his protégé and the maturity in his voice. He was also firm in his interrogation. He looked straight at the Dean, who know felt like he was being pushed into a corner. He bowed his head eventually.
“Damian Kirklees was a student at Durham. I suppose Karen told you this. He was due to come back to embark on a research position here in Oxford but declined at the last minute. That passport was indeed fake. Joanna and I were lovers. I know it was wrong, but we couldn’t help ourselves. She was attracted to me as I was to her. Damian suddenly turned up one day to talk to Karen, presumably to let her know he declined the invitation to attend. I saw the look on Joanna’s face. She liked him. I wasn’t happy. Then I found out she went away with him for a week just before the assessment intake was due to be announced. I was livid! I guess you could call it a dent to my ego. Then the students decided to throw a party on campus and I knew she would be there. I went to see her, but I didn’t assault her nor kill her, detectives. I wouldn’t do that. I loved her.” Tears came from his eyes and he cast himself a pathetic creature. Hazel and Hathaway looked at each other.
“The passport?”
“Fake as I said, sergeant. I know people, back from my student days. I was so jealous of Kirklees I concocted a fake passport with a fake birth date, everything. If I planted it there, then I hoped he would be linked. Stupid me didn’t think that he had already left for pastures new, did I? Oh, God, how foolish!” The Dean fell apart. Hathaway grew impatient again.
“Dean, who called my colleague?” He saw the Dean look at him and to his despair got a shake of the head in return.
“I do not know, I swear!” But Hathaway didn’t believe him and lunged forward to grab him. Hazel ran forward to pull him back.
“He’s not worth it, sir,” he told him gently. “He’s not worth you having a blemish on your record. Let him go, sir.” Hathaway glared at the Dean and did as suggested.
“If I found out you are once again withholding information, on my life I swear…” The Dean began to sob as he sank to the floor. Hazel and Hathaway walked out and down the corridor. The Dean’s secretary heard her boss’s anguish and ran into the office as the detectives left the building.
“What did Fraise say?” Hathaway asked as he opened the driver’s door.
“Unidentified number. He managed to find a recording of the call. There was mention of a building in Jericho.”
“Doesn’t help. I just hope she is all right.” Hazel nodded in agreement and got in. Hathaway this time waited until he was strapped in before turning the key in the ignition and speeding off down the road.
Gemma opened her eyes and found herself to be lying on her front on the floor. Her vision was blurry, and she struggled to get it back into focus. She felt light headed and giddy. She also couldn’t find herself being able to move. A small groan came from her lips as a pair of black shoes appeared in front of her. Gemma squinted trying to focus but couldn’t. She saw the outline of a head with long hair falling down looking straight at her.
“She’s awake.” The sound of the voice was distorted. “Drag her over there. Then call the number on that card we found in her pocket.” Gemma felt herself being moved across the floor but was in no fit state to even try to figure things out. Her eyes closed again as she fell into another state of unconsciousness.
Hazel and Hathaway stood beside Fraise as he played back the recording of the call Gemma received that morning. The voice was clear but unidentifiable. As Hazel told Hathaway, there was mention of a building in Jericho, but nothing else. Fraise looked at the two officers as the call ended. Hathaway asked him to play it back. They heard Gemma’s voice speaking and Hazel listened carefully. He thought he heard something suddenly and asked Fraise to stop.
“Hazel?” Hathaway asked.
“One sec. Fraise, play that bit again. After you hear Gemma’s voice.” Fraise nodded and did as requested. Hazel opened his ears and heard a small sound. “The old paper mill!” he said triumphantly. Hathaway looked at him. “Sorry. I grew up around the Jericho area, sir, and there was a paper mill there which closed down when I was about 10. I used to go there with a neighbour’s kid on the sly to play.”
“Are you sure, Hazel?” Hathaway asked.
“Positive, sir,” Hazel replied. Hathaway looked at Fraise.
“Did you do as I asked?” The close cropped dark blond haired lad in IT nodded and typed up something on his computer. Gemma’s GPS tracker came up, the location stationary. Hazel rolled his eyes knowing that Hathaway knew all along. “Hazel, one of the students you spoke to. Was her name Amanda Creighton?”
“Yes, sir, it was.” Hathaway looked at him.
“Her father owned the paper mill. I made enquiries of my own. She didn’t make the grade for assessment and knew that Joanna and the Dean were having an affair. Gemma was on to something with the faulty batch of wine the students drank from.”
Hazel could have kicked himself for not realising after all these years. He remembered seeing the South African flag on a desk and the location of Bloemfontein on an old plaque on the wall. “Creighton sabotaged the bottles?” he asked.
“More than likely. Come on!” He thanked Fraise and ran out. Hazel followed him but not before he squeezed the IT specialist on the shoulder.
Gemma once again groaned as this time the pain hit her head. She struggled to open her eyes. Suddenly a sharp pain hit her middle as she felt someone kick her. She coughed and gathered enough strength to try to sit up.
“Where am I?” she asked groggily. Her vision was still blurry but could just about make out the outlines of two figures ahead of her in the distance. She recognised one to have the long hair she briefly tried to see a while ago.
“Wakey-wakey, detective!” The voice was mocking only to laugh as Gemma struggled. Her strength left her again and she fell to the floor. She groaned in pain as she felt her hair being pulled back. “Let’s see what your detective colleagues will do now!” Her head was pushed down so violently her forehead hit the ground. The added pain only increased that Gemma started to sob. The young officer screamed suddenly as she felt a needle stab her in the neck. She eventually slumped to the floor, her eyes wide open.
Hathaway and Hazel ran down the corridor towards the exit when the sound of Bright’s voice stopped them in their tracks. Hathaway rolled his eyes and Hazel tutted in annoyance. This wasn’t the right time. They forced themselves to turn as the familiar figure of Bright appeared in the distance.
“Hathaway, Hazel – in here! NOW!”
“Ma’am,” Hathaway tried so hard to keep his cool. “We’ve had a lead. Gemma is in trouble…”
“NOW, JAMES!” Hathaway swore under his breath and had no choice. He walked towards Bright, Hazel behind him. They followed Bright inside and to Hazel’s surprise, he saw someone he recognised seated on a chair. “James Hathaway, Stephen Hazel – can I introduce Shirley Trewlove, Gemma’s mother.” Hazel walked forward to shake her hand. Hathaway bit his tongue as he did the same. This was no time for pleasantries.
“Ma’am, with all due respect…”
“I would like to thank the two of you for taking Gemma under your wing,” Trewlove told them politely. “She can’t stop talking about you both. I am glad she has the two of you to show her the ropes.” Hathaway forced himself to smile. He knew the longer they left it, the more her daughter’s life was in the balance.
“Thank you, Ms Trewlove,” he said. “Ma’am, can I have a word please. It’s urgent.” As the two officers walked to a corner, Hazel looked at the clock on the wall. Trewlove watched his movements and knew something was wrong.
“You’re on a case, aren’t you?” she asked. “The poisonings? Gemma told me about it.” Hazel looked at her and nodded. He heard Hathaway’s voice and quickly followed him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Richardson,” he said as he left. Trewlove smiled as the door closed.
“I haven’t been called that in a few years,” she told Bright in amusement. “He’s a polite young man though. He reminds me of someone I used to know.”
“Morse?” Bright asked. Trewlove looked at her. “He was DCI here. Very well known apparently. A really good one, too.” Trewlove nodded this not coming as any surprise to her. The misty-eyed look came over her features. “Regrets?”
“A few,” Trewlove replied. “So, come on! Take me on this tour you have been promising me.” She stood up. Bright smiled, and the two women walked to the door chatting and laughing away.
Hathaway placed his shades over his eyes as the sunlight hit the main reception area of the station. Hazel took a look at his mobile phone quickly as he passed Marian who was on desk duty. She called the officers back and Hathaway this time growled.
“Yes, sergeant!” he barked.
“Someone to see you both, Inspector.” She indicated a young lad with a swift nod of the head. The two detectives turned. Hazel recognised him as one of the students he spoke to at the Bodleian. He whispered this information to Hathaway, who took off his shades.
“Speak to him. See what he has to say. I’ll take the car. Then as soon as the interview is over, follow me – and bring back up.”
“Yes, sir.” Hathaway ran out of the building leaving Hazel to take care of proceedings. He walked over to the student and motioned him to follow him. He rolled his eyes at Marian as he disappeared around the corner.
“You’re welcome,” Marian spoke quietly. She shook her head slowly as she got back to her paperwork.
Gemma coughed and spluttered and she nearly burst into tears as the pain became excruciating. Her whole body ached. Her head pounded and she felt violently ill. She came to the realisation she had been injected with something that rendered her incapacitated and wondered if this was the same fate the students met and not the alcohol after all. She found herself wanting her mother and feeling like a little child. She was curled up in a ball trying to keep out the cold that suddenly enveloped her body. She wondered if Hathaway and Hazel put two and two together and would come to her rescue. She found herself cursing Martin in her head for running down her phone battery and not having the decency to charge it up. She then thought again of Hazel and how she rejected him. She whimpered as she felt her head being pulled back again and the voice behind her started mocking her again.
“No sign of your blond friend!” Gemma heard. “Looks like you will die here alone!”
“He will come,” Gemma managed to reply, her voice breathless. “The guv is on to you… Whoever you are!”
“Well, he’d better come quickly You don’t have long left!”
“I know you… You’re that student Stephen spoke to…”
“Well, what a shame that is all you will know.” Gemma felt her head let go and the room started to spin.
“What… What did you inject me with…?”
“Hush now.” Gemma heard another voice. “Don’t worry. You won’t suffer. This is about as much as it gets.”
“Amanda Creighton!” Gemma heard a deep voice and knew she was saved. Amanda turned as Hathaway appeared in the doorway. “Step away from DC Richardson.”
“Blondie!” she called out to him. “I was wondering when you were going to show your face!” Hathaway glanced at Gemma and knew he was running out of time.
“What have you done, Amanda?” Hathaway asked, keeping caution as he knew she was capable of anything.
“Nothing that wasn’t deserved,” Amanda replied. “Your colleague here was closing in. I had to stop her.”
“What would that have done, Amanda?” Hathaway ventured forward carefully. “How would that have helped you?”
“More than you think!” Amanda’s voice was bitter. “This wasn’t about me not making the grade! That assessment was flawed!”
“Then what was it then, Amanda?” Hathaway took a few more steps forward. “Was it the Dean’s relationship with Joanna?”
“Oh, God, no!” Amanda was disgusted Hathaway could ever make that assumption. “Unlike Joanna, I don’t have to flaunt what I can provide to get good grades!” Gemma meanwhile managed to find the strength to push herself forwards, dragging herself across the floor. She spied the squash racquet not far away and had an idea on how to help.
“So, why do it, Amanda?” Hathaway asked. “Why the other students? Why the ones who also didn’t make it? They were in the same boat as you.”
“That was accidental,” Amanda replied. “They weren’t meant to drink from those bottles.”
“So, who was meant to? Joanna… Or Damian Kirklees?” Amanda flinched. She grabbed a knife from a nearby table.
Outside, a few cars screeched to a halt. Stephen Hazel got out and sprinted down the passageway, a few uniformed and CID officers in pursuit. Hazel quickly pointed them in different directions and gave the order to proceed with caution. He had briefed them in the incident room beforehand, using his prior childhood knowledge of the building to guide them. He reached the open entrance and crept inside, hearing the voices of both Hathaway and Amanda. He saw them in the distance, the tall figure of his inspector a few feet away from the student he met at the Bodleian. Hazel knew this was all about timing and hopefully he had this on his side. He struggled to look for Gemma but couldn’t see her.
Hathaway backed off slightly as Amanda pointed the knife at him. He saw desperation in her eyes but wanted her to admit to him what she had done. He placed his hands out in front of him and gently walked forward. Amanda took a step back, holding the knife in front of her.
“Come on, Amanda,” Hathaway said to her calmly. “Put that down. How will waving that help you? We know you spiked the bottles, just admit to me why you wanted Joanna Missenden dead?”
“I told you, she wasn’t meant to die!” Amanda screamed. “Something must have happened. She was hell bent on getting drunk. I didn’t know the first bottle she was going to pick up was one of the faulty ones!”
“She was sexually assaulted, Amanda. Prior to her death…”
“You don’t think I was involved with that, do you? Blondie, I am from South Africa. The reason why my family moved here was because of that! To protect me! Why the hell would I even contemplate inflicting that on another person?!”
Hazel meanwhile crept further forward. He had to stop Hathaway. He was putting himself in even more danger. He knew he had to act at the right moment. A movement to the right caught his eye and he saw Gemma looking at him. He noticed she was pointing to the squash racquet. Hazel saw the state she was in and held his feelings and concern in. He nodded once and turned his attentions back to Hathaway. He took another few steps forward towards him.
“Put the knife down, Amanda,” Hathaway said, his voice still calm. “Come on.” He slowly put his hand out. Amanda glanced at it. “How much did you ask from the Dean? Twenty grand? Thirty? Fifty? More? You found out about the two of them, didn’t you? This gave you the opportunity. After all, if you didn’t make the assessment then he should pay – literally!”
“It wasn’t like that!” Amanda snapped. “Far from it! This was my family’s business. I had no problems paying for tuition!” A clang echoed throughout the building and caught their attention. Hazel saw the racquet on the floor, Gemma not far away slumped on the ground. Hazel turned to look at Hathaway, who suddenly tried to fight off Amanda.
“Sarge…” Hazel heard Gemma’s weak voice calling him. He saw a woman run towards Hathaway with a syringe in her hand. Hazel called Hathaway’s name and ran over to push him out of the way. Amanda lunged forward and Hazel moaned in pain clutching the side of his neck. A female voice rang out in agony as the other officers burst in.
Hathaway got up off the floor and rushed over to Gemma. He felt her pulse and ordered one of the uniformed officers to call for an ambulance. He then ran over to Hazel, who was lying motionless beside the body of Karen Macclesfield. He looked up and saw the exhausted figure of Amanda, a bloodied knife in her hand panting heavily.
“What was injected into him, Amanda?” he asked her, not in any mood to be mucked about more than he already had been. The student burst into tears. Hathaway stood up immediately to confront her only to be stopped by the weak voice of Hazel behind him. “Stephen.” Hathaway rushed over to crouch beside him. Hazel opened his eyes.
“It was Karen…” he managed to say. “That student… He told me… It was Karen. She did it to ruin the Dean. Amanda was blackmailed into going along with it…” His voice trailed off and he collapsed into unconsciousness. Hathaway gently shook Hazel to keep him awake, but it was no use. Amanda dropped the knife and fell to her knees, her cries echoing. The sound of sirens were heard from outside and not a minute later, two teams of paramedics rushed in. Hathaway stepped aside to let them get to work and he pulled Amanda up off the floor.
“You… and me… have a lot to talk about!” He handed her over rather roughly to a uniformed officer, who cuffed her before leading her away. Hathaway took a look at his battered team as he handed a piece of paper from toxicology to one of the paramedics from his pocket. She called over to her colleague and both teams agreed it was imperative to get the two detectives to hospital sharpish. As they were led away outside, Hathaway walked over to the open doors to call Bright. He needed the air. He spoke to Bright, telling her everything and that he will interrogate Amanda when he gets back. He also told her he will speak to Shirley Trulove personally. As he placed his handset in his pocket, he thought of Caroline but resisted contacting her as he walked down the pathway towards the car passing the ambulances and other painted cars along the way.
The students gasped and started talking amongst themselves as Hathaway led the Dean out from his office in disgrace with his hands cuffed behind his back. Camera flashes from the press photographers and reporters and camera crews from the local TV news fired questions at them. The Dean was read his rights in the office, the charges of sexual assault and murder over his head, and he couldn’t argue. His secretary watched in disbelief as they passed him and began to type out her resignation notice, the draft email to the Master open in another window on her computer screen.
Amanda Creighton burst into tears as she knew her future was in tatters. She was led from the interrogation room to the cells by a female uniformed officer. Hathaway walked out looking much worse for wear. His white shirt was crumpled and his sleeves rolled up midway. He met Bright out in the corridor and they watched as the two women turned a corner.
“Congratulations, James. Another fine result.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Hathaway replied. “I didn’t want to take this away from Hazel…”
“He still needs you. Even if he is up for this assessment, he still has a lot to learn. I argued six months for a reason.” Hathaway looked at Bright and couldn’t say anything. She was right. “Any news on the both of them?” They began walking slowly down the corridor. Hathaway shook his head. “She’s in there.” Bright pointed to her office. “She is a good friend, James. Go easy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bright watched as Hathaway disappeared on ahead and saw him knock on the open door before walking in closing it behind him. She sighed heavily and looked at her watch before walking away in the opposite direction.
Caroline stood up from the sofa and rushed to the living room doorway as she heard a key in the lock and saw Hathaway step inside. She waited for him to shut the door behind him before running over. Hathaway held her tightly not wanting to let go. Caroline clutched him sniffing back tears as she was so happy to see him. They looked at each other and she noticed the effect the case had on him. Hathaway said nothing but kissed her instead, their actions lasting a fairly long time. He wiped away the tears from her face and gazed lovingly at her.
“It’s all right, Caroline. I’m still alive.” Caroline laughed softly knowing he would always try and put a light-hearted look on things to disguise his true feelings. They walked to the living room together.
“How are Hazel and Gemma?” she asked. “I heard on the news.”
“I honestly don’t know,” Hathaway replied as he sat down on the sofa. “I just hope they pull through.” Caroline sat down beside him and noticed the look on his features. She brought him towards her and held him, planting kisses on top of his head. Hathaway held Caroline tightly, his vulnerability that he hardly showed in full view. He was glad this was over. He was glad he was alive, and he was glad he was with beloved Caroline.
Shirley Trewlove was once again keeping vigil. Just as she did with Reginald Bright all those decades ago when he was in hospital, she was doing the same with her daughter. She was just glad there wasn’t a Bed 10! Gemma was lying still having undergone emergency treatment. In the bed not far beside them, Stephen Hazel was also lying still having undergone the same treatment. The only difference was that he was all alone. There was no one beside him keeping vigil and Trewlove felt sorry for him. She stood up and picked up the extra bottle of squash and a spare glass and walked over to his bedside. An eagle-eyed nurse spotted her actions and told her she will get a pitcher of water. Trewlove smiled her gratitude before sitting down by Hazel’s bedside, placing the bottle and glass on top of his bedside cabinet.
Hazel stirred suddenly and opened his eyes. He saw Shirley Trewlove and was startled. Trewlove smiled and Hazel found it to be a source of comfort. He struggled to move, to sit himself up, the grogginess of the medication and the treatment still in his system. Trewlove gently told him to take it easy and he did as she asked.
“How are you, Stephen?” she asked him. “Your inspector told me everything. You are a life saver.”
“Thank you, Mrs Richardson,” Hazel replied weakly. “But, I was just doing my job.”
“You sound so much like him,” Trewlove said.
“Like whom?”
“Never mind. Please… call me Shirley.” Hazel managed to smile and he slowly glanced over at Gemma’s bed.
“How is she?” he asked with concern.
“She will be okay,” Trewlove replied. “You were both injected with the same substance, but the treatment you both had stopped it in time before it did serious damage.” Hazel nodded slowly. He was relieved.
“Leave him alone, Mum.” Trewlove turned and her face lit up as she saw Gemma looking at them groggily. Hazel smiled as Trewlove walked over to her daughter and kissed her on the forehead. She told her she will call Bright to let her know and walked away. Hazel and Gemma looked at each other, both in the same predicament.
“Hello, Gemma,” Hazel said.
“All right, sarge?” Gemma replied. Hazel laughed softly. “Look at the state of us.”
“Nothing that isn’t normal, Gem.” Gemma smiled, but couldn’t find the strength to laugh.
“Thank you, sarge.” She outstretched her right arm. Hazel glanced at it and reached over with his left. Their hands managed to meet in the middle.
“You’re welcome, Gemma.” The two officers smiled at each other, Hazel managing to caress Gemma’s fingers as their friendship blossomed and, perhaps, maybe to a whole new level…
Drama
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