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“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Who?”
Vera sighed. She had a good pair of hands on her, did Molly, but she was simple. “Professor Blake, my love. When was the last time you actually laid eyes on her?”
“Can’t remember.”
“Try.”
“Maybe yesterday.”
“Afternoon, was it?”
“Could have been.”
“Where was she?”
“In her car.”
“Headed where?”
Molly inclined her head to the north. “Up-country.”
Because the Lizard Peninsula was the most southerly point in the British Isles, everywhere else in the United Kingdom was up-country. But it suggested that Professor Blake had been bound for Oxford. Even so, Vera thought there would be no harm in having a look through the window of Wexford Cottage—which she did at half past three during a break in the rain. She reported her findings to Dottie Cox an hour later at the Lamb and Flag. They were sitting in their usual snug near the window, with two glasses of New Zealand sauvignon blanc between them. The clouds had finally broken, and the sun was dropping toward the rim of Mount’s Bay. Somewhere out there beneath the black waters was a lost city called Lyonesse. At least that was the legend.
“And you’re sure there were dishes in the sink?” asked Dottie.
“And on the countertop as well.”
“Dirty?”
Vera nodded gravely.
“Rang the bell, did you?”
“Twice.”
“The latch?”
“Locked tight.”
Dottie didn’t like the sound of it. The light was one thing, the dirty dishes quite another. “I suppose we should probably ring her, just to be on the safe side.”
It took a bit of searching, but Vera eventually found the main number for the University of Oxford’s Department of the History of Art. The woman who answered the phone sounded as though she might have been a student. A lengthy silence ensued when Vera asked to be connected to Professor Charlotte Blake’s office.
“Who’s calling, please?” the young woman asked at last.
Vera gave her name.
“And how do you know Professor Blake?”
“She lives down the road from me in Gunwalloe.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Is something wrong?”
“One moment, please,” said the woman, and transferred Vera to Professor Blake’s voicemail. She ignored the recorded invitation to leave a message and rang the Devon and Cornwall Police instead. Not the main number, but the special hotline. The man who answered didn’t bother to state his name or rank.
