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“And I’ll add my piece.”

Both men knew the object of this exercise was not really to break the news. By now, the entire room had heard it. Some formula had to be found to allow everyone to remain at the party without feeling guilty.

Back in the room, Chromik called his staff to order and said he had just been given some distressing news. One or two gasps of horror were provided as he imparted it. Without much subtlety, he went straight on to say he believed Emma would have wished the party to continue. There were general murmurs of assent.

Diamond stepped forward and introduced himself, admitting Dr Tysoe’s death was a mystery and inviting anyone with information to speak to him. He said he wasn’t only interested in the circumstances leading up to her murder, but wanted to find out more about her as a person.

As soon as he’d finished, a woman lecturer touched his arm. He was pleased. If one person comes forward, others generally follow.

“I can help with the background stuff. I’m Helen Sparks, and we shared an office.” She spoke with a South London accent. She was black, slim and tall and probably about the same age as Emma had been. Her eyes were lined in green.

He took her to a large leather sofa at the far end. “Thanks. I appreciate this.”

“Like you said, I can talk about Emma as a person. I liked her a lot. She had style.”

“Are we talking fashion here?”

“Absolutely. For an academic, she was a neat dresser. She knew what was out there and made sure she wore it.”

“The latest, you mean?”

“No. The best. The top designer labels.”

“That must have used up most of her salary.”

“Emma wasn’t short of money. I think her parents died a few years ago and left her comfortably off.”

“Did she have a lifestyle to go with it?”

“Depends what you mean. She was living at a good address in Great Pulteney Street. Drove a dream of a sports car that must have cost a bomb. But she wasn’t one for partying or clubbing. I think she just loved the feeling that she was class. Shoes, hair, make-up, the works. Not showy. Elegant.”

“To attract?”

“I don’t think attraction was in her scheme of things. Obviously men were interested, but she didn’t encourage them. Certainly not in the workplace, anyway.”

“She preferred women?”

A shake of the head. “If she did, I never got a hint of it. No, she had her own agenda to look a million dollars and that was it.” Helen Sparks laughed heartily. “You’ve seen the rest of this lot. She was in a minority of one.”

“Two, I would think.”

She accepted the compliment with a shrug and a wry smile.

“Where was she from?”

“Liverpool, originally, but I don’t think she had anyone left up there. Most of her travelling was to help the police.”

“So she talked about the work she did, the profiling?”

“Once or twice when she got back from a case she mentioned what it was about. There were some rapes in a Welsh town, and she put together a profile of the man that definitely helped them to make an arrest. She also helped with a horrid case in Yorkshire, of someone maiming farm animals. She said it became fairly obvious which village the man came from. They caught him in the act.”

“What about the case she was involved in this time? Did she say anything at all?”

Dr Sparks leaned back, frowning, trying to remember. “One Thursday, she said she wouldn’t be in for a few days, and if I had to cover for her, would I arrange to show the final year students a film we have of juvenile offenders talking about their attitude to crime. I think I asked her where she was going this time and she said she wasn’t allowed to speak about it. I said, ‘Big time, then?’ and she said, ‘Huge, if it’s true.’ ”

“‘Huge.’ She said that?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“‘If it’s true.’ I wonder what she meant by that.”

“I’ve no idea.”

“And that was all?”

“Yes, apart from some messages for students about assignments.”

“How was she when she told you this? Calm?”

“Yes, and kind of thoughtful, as if her mind was already on the job she had to do.”

“Is there anyone else she might have spoken to?”

“Professor Chromik, I suppose.”

“He says she didn’t tell him anything,” Diamond said. He hesitated before asking, “Is it just me, or does he treat everyone as if they crawled out from under a stone?”

She smiled faintly. “It isn’t just you.”

“Did Emma have enemies?”

“In the department? Not really. You couldn’t dislike her.”

“Students?”

She drew back, surprised by the suggestion.

He said, “She graded them, presumably. Her marking might affect the class of degree they got, right?”

“It’s not so simple as that. They’re being assessed all the time by different people.”

“But one of them could hold a grudge against a member of staff if he felt he was being consistently undervalued?”

“Theoretically, but I don’t think they’d resort to murder.”

Diamond disagreed, and explained why. “Some students buckle under the pressure. Look at the suicide rate in universities.”

“That’s another matter,” Helen Sparks said sharply. “I wouldn’t accept a link with murder, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“But if someone felt their problems were inflicted by one of the staff, the anger might be focused there, instead of internally.”

“Ho-hum.”

“What do you mean-ho-hum?”

“These are just assertions,” she said. “You don’t have any data base to support them.”

“There won’t be data. Murder is an extreme act.”

“That’s no reason to be suspicious of students.”

“Helen, I have to be suspicious of everyone.”

He asked her to introduce him to more of her colleagues, and he met three others on the staff. All professed to having been on good terms with the saintly Emma. It was obvious no one would admit to being on bad terms with her. Maybe he should have delayed the questions until they’d all had a few more drinks.

He left the party disappointed, feeling he’d not learned much from the stroppy professor and his uncritical staff.

* * *

“The key to this may well be the case she was working on,” he told the small team he’d assembled. They were Keith Halliwell, his main support these days; John Leaman, the young sergeant he’d come to value in the case of the Frankenstein vault; and the rookie, Ingeborg Smith, chisel-sharp and chirpy. “The word that was used about it was ‘huge’. What I don’t understand is the need for secrecy.”

“Maybe someone is knocking off members of MI6,” Leaman said, not entirely joking.

“Or the royals-and no one is being told,” Ingeborg said.

“The corgis?” Halliwell said.

“Had your fun?” Diamond said with a sniff. “Anyone got any more suggestions? Whatever she was asked to do, we need to find out. As I understand it, profilers work with serial cases. There can’t be that many under investigation. I want you to start ferreting, Keith.”

“Using HOLMES?”

Diamond gave him a glare.

“The computer, guv.”

“Fine. By all means.” In time, he’d remembered HOLMES was one of those acronyms he found so hard to take seriously: Home Office Large Major Enquiry System. In theory it collated information on similar serious crimes. Diamond’s objection to HOLMES was that as soon as the computer came up with cases in different authorities, someone of Assistant Chief Constable rank was appointed to coordinate the efforts of the various SIOs. One more infliction. “But ask around as well. Down in Bognor they claim there aren’t any serial crimes under investigation.”

“If it’s hush-hush…”

“Exactly.”

“Are they up to this-the Bognor lot?” Halliwell asked.