A Matter of Trust (27 page)

With a small grunt of relief, she turned the car around, and headed as quickly towards St Bede's as the traffic would let her.

*           *           *

As Nesta pulled into the car park of St Bede's, Rosemary Naismith pulled into what had once been the old Radcliffe Hospital next door to the college, and parked her car. She got out, holding her bag ultra-carefully by her side. She didn't dare leave it in the car, just in case some car thief took it, or her car got towed.

By rights, if she had any sense, she'd take it home and then come on to St Bede's, but she had a desperate feeling that she had no time to waste. She needed to see Callum. She just
had
to know how much he knew. How much he'd learned.

As she walked through the front gates and past the porters' lodge, Nesta Aldernay cut through Wallace quad, and headed for the lodge from the opposite direction.

Rosemary, who was heading for Callum's rooms at the far end of the college in Wolsey passed her. The two women, in the dark, barely glanced at each other.

Nesta knew only Rosemary's name—it was in fact, burned into her soul—but she had no idea what she actually looked like. Why should she? She'd never so much as seen a picture of her.

But both women, on reaching their destinations, found themselves disappointed.

Rosemary knocked and knocked on
Callum's
door, reluctant to leave and not wanting to acknowledge that he was out. It was such an anti-climax that she wanted to lean against his door and cry.

Nesta learned from the porter that the police incident room was in the theatre in Webster, but when she went there and stood quietly in the doorway, she could see for herself that Lisle was not inside. So she walked slowly back through Wallace quad, towards her parked car, wondering what she should do next.

At that moment, Rosemary walked under Becket Arch and began to make her way back to the main gates. She'd have to take the bomb back to her house after all, and come back later. Callum, unless he was dining out, would be back to dine in Hall by six, at the latest.

Had not Marcheta also arrived at that moment, what happened next would never have happened at all. Nesta would have gone back to her cold bedsit, to spend miserable hours waiting for Lisle to get in touch with her, and Rosemary would have been arrested. But Marcheta, who'd just come from the Randolph, now stepped out of a taxi and walked through the main gates, quickly heading for Wolsey.

She wanted to see if Callum was back from the Bodleian.

Opposite the entrance to the car park, Rosemary saw the unmistakable tall and leggy
figure
of the supermodel and hesitated. The woman's long flowing black hair was a dead give away, and in the well-lit quad, Rosemary had no trouble spotting and identifying her.

And Rosemary instinctively knew that she didn't want Marcheta Kendall to see her. The tall cross of the War Memorial provided an ideal hiding place, and with a quick side step, she flattened herself against it, becoming all but invisible in the cold night.

At the same time, Nesta, coming out of Webster, also spotted the tall, unmistakable figure of the beautiful woman. She looked just like her photograph in that evening's edition of the
Oxford Mail
. She was glad that the poor, beleaguered and unquestionably innocent Dr Fielding had someone fighting his corner.

She was just a second too late, however, to see the furtive figure of the other, blonde woman in the quad slip behind the dark shadowy War Memorial.

Nesta quickened her pace. ‘Miss Kendall?' she called, and only then wondered what she was doing.

Markie stopped and looked around. She saw a woman with a bell-shaped cap of lovely red hair hurrying towards her. As she stopped and waited for her to reach her, (somewhat impatiently as she was dying to talk to Callum) she saw that the woman's face was pinched pale with worry. Even in the artificial electric light streaming from the various college
windows,
she looked haggard and upset.

As she got within a few feet, Markie could see that her big green eyes were large with worry. In the deserted quad, their words carried clearly in the night air, echoing off the ancient walls of the buildings.

‘You are Marcheta Kendall, aren't you? The one who's friends with Dr Fielding?' Nesta asked a trifle breathlessly.

‘Yes. That's me,' Markie said, intrigued now.

Nesta came to a halt, and once again wondered why she'd attracted this woman's attention. She smiled grimly.

‘I don't suppose you know where Inspector Jarvis is, do you?' Nesta asked. ‘He's not in the incident room.'

Had she known it, she'd only missed him by a matter of twenty minutes or so. And right at that moment, he and Jim Neill were frantically searching Rosemary Naismith's College rooms. For Callum Fielding had telephoned them from the Bodleian not half an hour ago, and had told them everything that he'd discovered.

It was yet more irony piled upon irony.

But now, Markie shrugged and smiled a little grimly. ‘Unless he's out trying to harass Callum again, I have no idea, sorry,' she drawled.

Nesta went, if possible, even paler. ‘I'm sorry. You and Dr Fielding must be having a
hard
time of it, and it's all my fault.'

Behind the War Memorial Rosemary, who had been waiting impatiently for the two women to move away, suddenly stiffened. Her ears pricked.

The quad was still deserted. At this time of day most students coming back to the college to dine, entered by the many side and postern gates, nearest to their Houses. Those that did come in through the main gates ignored the women, uninterested in them or their conversation. And all of them missed seeing Rosemary, huddled deep as she was in the shadows.

Markie frowned. ‘Your fault? I don't understand.'

Nesta sighed wearily. ‘It's a long story, and rather complicated. And, oh Hell, I need to see Lisle. Where is he?' she all but wailed.

Markie smiled. ‘You know Inspector Jarvis?'

Nesta flushed tellingly, and Markie felt herself grinning. So, the dour, handsome, gruff policeman had a lover did he? Good for him! It was about time some woman took him in hand. And this woman with the fiery red hair and flashing green eyes looked like she could handle such a man all right. But right now, such speculations, interesting though they were, had to take second place.

‘I still don't understand,' Markie persisted, ‘why you should think that any of this is your
fault?'

Which was a sentiment, had she but known it, that was being echoed most fervently by Rosemary Naismith in her hiding place.

Nesta sighed. ‘I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Nesta Aldernay.'

Both Markie and Rosemary gasped.

Markie stared at the woman in front of her, unable to make the leap. ‘Aldernay you say? You're not a relation of Brian Aldernay are you?'

Behind the War Memorial Rosemary's heart seemed to stop beating.

‘Yes!' Nesta said, stunned. ‘But how do you know my father's name?'

Rosemary felt sick. Her father!

Of course, she remembered now, Brian had had an infant daughter. But what was she doing here? She clutched her bag tighter to her in unconscious worry, then realised what she was doing. She broke into a sweat and forced herself to relax, frantically checking that neither of the lights on the side of the bomb were lit up.

They weren't.

Had Rosemary known it, she wouldn't have felt quite so relieved. That bomb might not be ticking, but, less than a quarter of a mile away, another bomb was. For Lisle and Jim, in her rooms, were bagging the photograph of her Olympic archer friend and, the search over, were heading towards the door.

In
the deserted and dark quad, however, Markie and Nesta still stared at one another in equal amazement.

‘But Callum and I have just found your father's papers in Sir Vivian's country cottage,' Markie said.

Rosemary gasped again. Luckily for her, against the sound of traffic roaring up the Woodstock Road just a few yards away, neither of the other women heard it.

‘So that's where it was!' Nesta said, momentarily distracted. ‘I searched everywhere for it! Lisle was so cross with me!'

Markie couldn't help but laugh at that. She'd just bet he was! But how had Nesta Aldernay and Lisle got together and why hadn't they pieced it together and . . . No, she gave herself a mental shake. All that could wait.

‘But how did Sir Vivian come to have your father's papers?' she asked, dying of curiosity now.

‘Because I gave them to him,' Nesta said, with earth shaking simplicity. ‘I was an undergraduate at Durham,' she carried on, trying to keep the explanations short. ‘I found my father's thesis in the attic, after my mother died. Because I was studying psychology too, I understood what I'd read. And, as luck would have it, I'd also studied Dr Naismith's thesis as part of a summer course I did a year ago. I recognised the similarities. Then I did
some
digging, and found out that Rosemary Naismith had been my father's supervisor.'

‘And you put it all together?' Markie finished. ‘Wow. So all this time you knew. Why the hell didn't you come forward?' she asked angrily. All this time and effort she and Callum had been putting into it, when all the time, this woman knew . . .

‘But the papers said Sir Vivian had been mugged!' Nesta groaned. ‘I thought it was a random act of violence. It wasn't until I read the papers tonight that I put it all together! Part of me still can't believe that Dr Naismtih killed him. It still seems so extreme!'

Markie shook her head, not in denial, but with the same sense of disbelief that she could sense in the redhead. It did seem bizarre. But she knew that Callum believed it, even if he'd never said so. And he knew the woman better than either herself or Nesta Aldernay.

Behind the War Memorial, Rosemary started to shake. She could feel herself begin to collapse. This was so much worse than she'd expected. It was a catastrophe. Brian Aldernay's daughter! And Marcheta Kendall. They both knew now, and soon, that damned copper was going to come back and they'd tell him and it would all be over.

Rosemary reeled against the cold stone cross, feeling herself disintegrate. She could see years in prison stretching ahead of her. The disgrace and ignominy.

‘We
have to tell Lisle,' Nesta's clear voice echoed around the quad.

In her hiding place, Rosemary fought back a sob of panic.

‘We'll have to wait for him to get back,' Markie agreed.

‘My car's parked in the car park,' Nesta said. ‘A VW Beetle. Shouldn't we go to the Kidlington Police Station? We can't sit on this any longer.'

But Markie hesitated. ‘Callum should be back by now—I was just on my way to his room to see. He's got your father's papers. He's been at the Bodleian all afternoon checking it out. It makes sense for us all to go together,' she pointed out with perfect logic. ‘Between us, we've got all the pieces of the puzzle now.'

‘OK. But let's hurry!'

Rosemary shrank back even further against the stone cross, but she needn't have worried. Nesta and Markie were walking so fast when they passed by the War Memorial that they were almost running.

But as Rosemary watched them disappear through Becket Arch, she began to function again. She had to kill them! All of them.

She pushed away from the War Memorial and headed quickly to the car park.

A Beetle. She saw it immediately. It was the only Volkswagen in the car park.

Luckily it was an old model, one whose boot could be opened from the outside without the
use
of a key. As in all the Beetles, the engine was in the back, so she walked to the front of the car to open the boot. Looking around furtively, she opened her bag, took out the cassette-shaped bomb and put it into the dark boot. She glanced at the buttons and hesitated.

Five minutes, Faisal had said.

She knew that Callum was not in his room, but for how long would the two women wait for him? Not more than five minutes surely? But then they had to walk back.

She decided to wait. She glanced at her watch, her finger hovering over the red button. As soon as she heard them coming, she'd set the bomb going.

*           *           *

In their car, Lisle and Jim headed back towards the incident room. Lisle wanted to get an APB out on Rosemary Naismith as soon as possible.

But it was the rush hour, and progress towards the college seemed so slow.

*           *           *

Nesta hurried back into the car park, her heels clicking. Rosemary Naismith heard her clearly.

Unaware of the danger she was in, she pressed the red button on the unstable, untested bomb. There was a slight click and
then
the green light came on. Rosemary closed the boot and quickly raced towards the main lodge gates. She was so far gone in panic and bloodlust now that she was no longer thinking straight.

But she felt in perfect control.

As she stepped out of the main gate, her face was resolute.

Back in St Bede's car park Nesta got into the booby-trapped Beetle.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Lisle walked forward quickly, ready to pounce in the unlikely event that the tall blonde giant should make a dash for it. ‘Hello, Dr Fielding,' he said grimly. ‘I've been wanting to catch up with you all day,' he added, with biting sarcasm. ‘Fancy seeing you here.' His lips twisted grimly.

Beside him, Jim grinned wolfishly.

‘I want to know just what's been going on,' Lisle demanded ominously.

Simultaneously, Callum said ‘Inspector Jarvis, I have that evidence I promised you.'

Both men broke off and looked at one another.

Oblivious to the passing traffic and pedestrians, Lisle sighed heavily. ‘What exactly did you find?' Lisle snapped again, in no mood
to
play forty questions. ‘And I want details this time, not the bare minimum that you gave me before.'