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“We need the sugar, to help us keep going,” she said.
Eddy was waiting for them, his eyes lighting up when he saw the bakery bag. Patsy held it out of his reach. “Coffee,” she said. Eddy disappeared downstairs with their empty mugs from earlier and reappeared a few minutes later with three full ones.
“What news?” he asked, once he’d taken the first bite from his cookie.
Charlie took a cookie and began to eat it. He wanted the others’ reaction to his ideas, but he expected they would accuse him of madness. He wasn’t sure they wouldn’t be right. But he couldn’t act without them, and they didn’t have long. A cookie crumb caught in the back of his throat. He coughed to try to clear it, and then coughed some more. Eddy clapped him on the back, which did no good. The coughing continued until he was red in the face, and then suddenly the obstruction went.
“Sorry,” he said. “Look. I think Vitruvious murdered Rico, and almost murdered Kaylan, and I think he’s the one stealing the money from the college. But I can’t prove it.”
Eddy’s rugby player’s face held a look of scepticism, eyebrows raised, leaning one elbow on the desk with a cookie on the other hand. By contrast, Patsy merely seemed interested.
“I don’t have any evidence, except some odd remarks, and not many of those. But they add up. We know Vitruvious is lying about who he is. His father is called Reinhard Volker, and Vitruvious doesn’t acknowledge him. If we can believe Violet, they pretend they don’t know each other because their politics are miles apart. We also know that Vitruvious is living in an expensive area, and drives an expensive car, though he’s only getting his salary from the college, and according to Tom, no one wants to buy his paintings. Tom is a successful artist, and he’s not making enough to give up the day job, so Vitruvious can’t be paying for his house and car from painting.”
“He could be living on credit,” Patsy said. “Lots of people do.”
Charlie nodded. “Could be. But last night Gwilym said that he’d heard Harrington-Bowen asking Vitruvious for money. More money. Harrington-Bowen has been protecting his nephew, to the extent of attacking Mags. I’m sure it was him, and I think he did it so that he could say the flasher was still around.”
Eddy couldn’t hold his scepticism back any longer. “Come on, Sarge. That’s pushing it. If it was Harrington-Bowen, why choose Mags? Why not attack a student if he wanted to make it look real?”
Patsy gave Eddy a dirty look. “Because, stupid, Mags would fight back. If it was, HB, he wouldn’t want to jerk off in front of someone, not for real. If it was him, and I’m not saying it was, he needed an excuse to leg it and not follow through.”
Charlie breathed a quiet sigh of relief, but Eddy wasn’t having it. “The MO is completely different. All the other attacks have been on women students on the campus.”
This time Patsy kicked him. “No one knows that except us, Gwilym, and Mags. Because HB made damn sure that none of the details were properly recorded. The college wanted it all kept quiet, so only the Student Union had any records, and theirs weren’t complete. Women police officers thought they were being followed. No one knew that the attacks didn’t include non-students, because no one knew anything for sure.”
“Maybe,” Eddy still didn’t sound convinced.
“I know it’s far-fetched, but if Harrington-Bowen was being paid off by Vitruvious, and Gwilym knew, then Harrington-Bowen would have another reason to protect Gwilym,” Charlie said.
“If.” Eddy said.
Charlie rubbed his hand over his face, and through his hair. Faced with his inability to convince Eddy, his ideas sounded thin. Harrington-Bowen could have been protecting Gwilym because of their family relationship, but Harrington-Bowen didn’t seem like that sort of man. On the other hand, Gwilym didn’t seem sufficiently on the ball to realise that his uncle asking Vitruvious for money was something he ought to be keeping quiet.
“Yes, if,” Charlie said. “But Gwilym did say that his uncle was asking Vitruvious for money, and he also said that his uncle was looking at having to sell his house. Your own research said the guy was broke. He’s on divorce number three. So, we can assume that he needed money. People do strange things when they need money.”
“Third divorce,” Patsy said. “That’s got to cost plenty. He’s another one with a top-end car, and he spends a fortune on clothes. Inspectors don’t get paid enough for brand new Range Rovers. I looked it up. I bet he’s living on credit.” She folded her arms, emanating satisfaction.
“OK,” Eddy said. “Let’s say you’re right about Harrington-Bowen attacking Mags. Because we can prove that if forensics pull their fingers out. That doesn’t explain why he was asking Vitruvious for money, or why you think Vitruvious murdered Rico. Or, come to that, why you think Vitruvious is stealing money from the college.”
Charlie felt certain that Vitruvious was the murderer, and that he’d done it in pursuit of his painting. But it was a ludicrous theory, and the idea he was least excited about sharing. He hardly believed it himself. But theft? He believed that.
“The finance guy, David Something. He says there was no trace of the extra money coming into the college, but we have Michael Pepperdine’s statement saying that he paid an extra fifty thousand dollars. I’d like to spend an hour asking the other international painting students if their parents paid extra. I spoke to Tom last night, and he said the other painting tutors were less than impressed with those students, so it’s possible. Once we’ve got statements saying there was extra money paid, we can bring the finance guy in and get serious with him.”
Both Eddy and Patsy were nodding. But Eddy had to spoil it.
“But how does that lead to Vitruvious being the murderer?” he asked.
“Duh,” Patsy said, “Rico must have found out.”
Charlie wasn’t going to tell her that wasn’t it. Because maybe it was. Maybe it was as simple as Rico Pepperdine discovering that his parents’ money had been spent on Vitruvious’s expensive lifestyle rather than the college. Baby steps, he thought. Let’s just begin by proving Vitruvious was stealing the money.
24
Too nice to say so
Wednesday 9am
Armed with the names and room numbers of the remaining six international painting students, Charlie, Patsy and Eddy started knocking on doors in the hall of residence. Charlie started with Katy Malcovitz’s room, and she answered the door in a pink silk dressing gown, blushing bright red when she realised it wasn’t a fellow student. Her long dark hair was mussed from sleep.. Charlie produced his warrant card and the friendliest smile he could manage.
