Antman (20 page)

'Anyone you've failed in the last year, perhaps?'

'No. Hang on, there was one, Mcnay. I wasn't the supervisor, but I was the second supervisor to Bill Hancock. I suppose my criticisms of his thesis have been the decisive factor in his referral to re-present next year. The external agreed with me, but the colleague who co-supervised with me was hesitant at first.'

Chris leaned over to underline the name. Tom became aware of the closeness of their two heads. He put the awareness to one side.

'Right. That's one to follow up. Any more? Anyone with a thing about you?'

Tom laughed:

'Nothing worth mentioning. Only dear Naomi.'

'Why
dear
?'

'She brings that out in everyone, I think. Naomi Waterson. Now there's a person with a problem.'

'In what way?'

'Excuse the epithet, but she has a bee in her bonnet about me.'

'That sounds ominous. The bee. Not the epithet.'

'It's not uncommon, believe me.'

'Don't I know it,' muttered Chris with feeling.

'Have I sparked off a memory?'

'Nothing much.'

'Don't be coy. I'm answering all your questions.'

'When I was an undergraduate one of my tutors pestered me.'

Tom reared up: 'I'll have you know – '

She waved a placatory hand. 'Okay, you don't go in for seducing students. I make no apologies. It's not unknown in the real world, you know.'

Tom changed tack abruptly. 'You didn't tell me you were at university.'

'You didn't ask.'

'Where were you, if I might ask?'

'Oxford.'

He couldn't detect a note of triumph, but it might have been there. She continued, sensing his unsated curiosity:

'You were telling me about Naomi. What was her name again?'

'Waterson. It sometimes happens that a student having problems with the research looks around for something or someone to blame. It could be the advice, or the lack of it, from the supervisor who becomes the scapegoat.'

'Are you the supervisor?'

'I was, but I transferred supervision last year to Professor Apthorpe.'

'Smart move, or not, in retrospect?'

'On balance not. We transferred it because the supervision wasn't working. Sometimes we counsel a student to stick it out, where, in our judgement, difficulties arise from issues relevant to the research being addressed through the interaction between the student and the supervisor. But in this case it was more a question of incompatible perspectives. In such a case, sometimes as the research focus clarifies, the student's theoretical orientation becomes firmer for the first time and the original choice of supervisor is reviewed. In Naomi's case there were personality factors as well.'

'You're referring to a personality clash?'

'Whatever that is. No, I wouldn't say that. Naomi might.'

'I don't think you're telling me the whole story. Is she beautiful?'

'An emotive word, beauty.'

'Is she?'

'Some people might say so.'

'Come off it, you're so wrapped up in your research you haven't noticed whether one of your young female students is physically attractive?'

'I can see her appealing to a particular type of man.'

'You sound like a typical academic fogey. Did Apthorpe go for her?'

Tom shrugged.

'You'll have to ask him that.'

'Or the Dean. He looks like he's ready for a second adolescence. Is his marriage on the rocks? Does his wife look the other way while he has affairs?'

'That's a quite improper suggestion.'

'Today's improper suggestions can be tomorrow's police business.'

'Hugh's even less likely than anybody.'

'Who's anybody?'

'The two students I mentioned. Okay, so that's two students to come back to. Any more students?'

Tom shook his head. 'From what point of view?'

'From the point of view of bearing a grudge against you.'

'I'm fairly sure that's the lot.'

'Let's look at the staff.'

'Even fewer, I'm afraid. We dealt with them last time we met.'

'Fewer doesn't mean less complicated. Either they do or don't hate you.'

'I can't think of anyone who would. It's a small unit. In a small research centre like this, we all depend on each other to keep it afloat. So even though you might not get on with each other, you have to keep up the pretence of working in various task groups on a variety of externally funded projects. That's what keeps the salaries paid. Not friends exactly, but definitely colleagues and team members.'

'Give me a brief snapshot of each of them.'

Tom picked up the list and sighed.

'I've done this once. I'll go down the list again. There's Robin, my deputy. He's out of it for six months. Luis Deakin is on a temporary contract. He's one of those professional short-term contract people. They're usually into the research so heavily that they go from temporary contract to temporary contract, throughout their careers. In Robin's absence I'm even more heavily dependant on Luis.'

'Where did he come from?'

'The usual route – a succession of short-term contracts in other universities.'

''I can't see any reference to links with other academics in other departments. You presumably have them.'

'Plenty, yes.'

'Why not add them to the list?'

'The problem is where to stop.'

'I'll need a full list, including support staff in other departments.'

'That's a massive task. You're talking about an ever-widening network of people, possibly hundreds. I restricted it to our department.'

'If only our killer was as considerate. It's horses for courses, Tom. You don’t mind me calling you Tom, do you? You provide the list of people and leave it to us to judge how to use it. One other query. There's nobody here from higher up, you know, senior management?'

'Come off it. That load of bumbling – they don't even know what we're doing, let alone having a view about it.'

'There's Hugh, your Dean.'

'Exactly. That proves my point.'

'As bad as that?'

'Worse.'

'The most unlikely people have turned out to be hiding criminal propensities. Most murderers and serious sex offenders look fairly unassuming.'

'Is that a fact? Whatever, Hugh isn't among them. If he'd had the capacity, perhaps he'd have been a better advocate for our department and the Centre over the years – you know, university politics and that sort of thing.'

Tom saw her intransigent expression and capitulated.

'Okay, I'll organise the extra information through the Faculty Office. It may take a couple of days.'

*  *  *

They finished their meal. Tom suggested they walk back to his office.

'I'll take you through Jean's office.' He'd had an afterthought. 'She can give us the extra names so you can contact them yourself.'

'Sounds great.'

Chris hesitated before asking her next question.

'You said earlier no staff actually hate you. Are there any potential or actual points of tension between you and other staff?'

'None that particularly come to mind.'

'Any disagreements or feuds between staff?'

'It's not the kind of thing I would log on a daily basis.'

'Anything at all.'

'Nothing extraordinary comes to mind, the usual rivalries and politicking. They're part and parcel of any work group, I guess. Especially before Detlev Brandt died. That kind of damped everything down for a while.'

'Tell me about Dr Brandt.'

'He's been out of it since last year. Why rake all that up?'

Chris shrugged: 'Maybe I've got a tidy mind and I like to have every i dotted and every t crossed.’

'Nothing to say really. He was a bright young man.'

'Young? Was he good looking?'

'Smart and handsome.'

'Gay or straight?'

He gave her a bemused look.

'A routine question,' she said.

'Straight, I suppose.'

'Did he have any problems with women?'

'He never had a shortage of admirers when he first arrived. That was early on, though.'

'And later, what changed?'

'Robin's wife Helen changed things. From then on it was Helen all the way.'

'What did Robin think about that?'

'Robin didn't know, not officially. Anyway, if you knew Robin you'd realise he isn't the kind of man only to have one fish in the fryer at a time.’

They reached Jean’s office and Tom introduced Chris. 'Could you bring us a coffee?' he asked.

They sat in his office. Chris was musing.

'Why do you think Dr Brandt committed suicide?'

'I don't think he did.'

'What?'

'Commit suicide.'

'What evidence do you have for that statement?'

'No hard evidence.'

'You said you attended the inquest.'

'I did.'

'You haven't much chance of convincing anyone without evidence.'

'I agree.'

Chris stared at him.

'What are you thinking?' Tom asked.

'I was thinking you're an eccentric man.'

'In what way?'

'In the sense of out-of-the-ordinary.'

'Is that all for today?' Tom asked innocently.

'There is one other small matter,' said Chris. 'Will you help us with this case?'

'I'm helping now.'

Chris hesitated.

'On a more formal basis, so we can have the benefit of your expertise. Will you act as entomological consultant to this murder inquiry?'

'Oh God. Poacher turned gamekeeper, eh? I always fear invitations like this. I'd love to help you. It isn't so much 'will I' as 'can I' and I fear the answer is 'not much'. Forensic entomology is a complex subject. I'm not in forensic work myself, but I know enough to withstand the temptation to dabble. I have one or two friends and colleagues in the field, though I'm sure you have your own contacts.'

'That's awkward,' said Chris, 'because I particularly approached you on the basis that you know about insects, especially ants. Also, you have an interest in forensic matters, though not necessarily claiming professional expertise in forensic entomology – the kind of people the police have on their books who specialise in post-mortem analysis – invasions of the body by blow flies and that sort of thing.'

'Forensic entomology is a very inexact science,' said Tom. 'I leave all that stuff about using evidence of invasions by various insects to determine the minimum time of death, to those who specialise in it.' He smiled grimly. 'To me they're strange people, messing about with dead bodies.'

'You're just as odd, publishing articles on attacks by ants on living animals,' Chris retorted.

'How do you know about that?'

'I've been doing my homework.'

'Bloody hell,' exclaimed Tom. He caught sight of the lunchtime mail on his desk. He reached over, opened an envelope and scanned a memo from Hugh. He pulled a face.