The door from the main quad opened and a woman wearing a clean white apron over a floral print dress came in. Bernie recognised her as Amanda Bridgefield, the Head of Housekeeping, (or, in Bernie’s mind, “Chief Scout”). She held the door open for two plain-clothes police officers to enter: DCI Anna Davenport and DS Andrew Lepage. Bernie smiled as she recognised two old friends. At least Anna could be relied upon not to take offence at Jonah’s presence or to consider his advice to be unwarranted interference, and Andy had been his most trusted lieutenant during the days immediately prior to his retirement.
Anna stood for a moment surveying the room and its occupants. Then she walked briskly across to the group near the fireplace.
‘Good morning,’ she hailed them. ‘I’m DCI Davenport and this is my assistant DS Lepage.’
‘Featherstone Grainger – Master of Lichfield,’ the Master responded at once, stepping towards her and holding out his hand. ‘I take it you are in charge of the police investigation?’
‘That’s right,’ Anna confirmed. ‘We’ll be taking care of interviewing witnesses and taking statements. You may already have met the Crime Scene Manager, Ruby Mann. She’s in charge of the forensics team. We need to keep people out of the Fellows’ Garden altogether until they’ve finished. She’ll let you know when that is. Now, perhaps I could start by speaking to the couple who found the body?’
‘That’s Dr Riess and Professor Wellesley,’ the Master told her, nodding towards each of them in turn.
‘Good.’ Anna turned to Martin and Paula. ‘Perhaps you could both sit down and we can go through what you saw?’
‘But first,’ Jonah put in quietly but forcefully, ‘you need to know that there’s some confusion about who our victim actually is.’
‘Oh?’ Andy looked at him in surprise. ‘Ruby told us he’d been identified as one of the gardeners.’
‘He’s wearing Lichfield College overalls, like the gardeners do,’ Martin confirmed, ‘but apparently all the gardeners are present and correct, so …’
‘It seems that he is an imposter,’ Jonah concluded cheerfully. ‘Have the SOCOs found any ID on him at all?’
‘I don’t know. Mike Carson’s looking at the body at the moment,’ Anna told him. ‘I’ll ask them about that after he’s finished. Meanwhile, I’d like to get on with interviewing Dr Riess and Professor Wellesley.’ She gestured towards four chairs grouped together facing the windows that overlooked the garden. Paula and Martin sat down in two of them.
‘Can I go now?’ asked Milton, who was feeling more and more uncomfortable in the rarefied atmosphere of the Senior Common Room.
The Master looked towards Anna for an answer. ‘This is Russell Milton, our Head Gardener,’ he told her.
‘In that case, please could you wait here until the pathologist has finished with the body?’ Anna said, looking Milton up and down. ‘Even if the victim isn’t one of your staff, you may know who he is – or at least be able to confirm that he isn’t who he appears to be.’
‘Come and sit down over here and I’ll get you some coffee.’ Bernie looked round at the sound of a new voice and saw a youngish man in a clerical collar. It was Simon Sutcliffe, the chaplain. He had evidently been watching them and, noticing Russell’s unease, had stepped in to help. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll have long to wait.’ They moved away together to another corner of the room.
‘Do you mind waiting here as well?’ Anna asked the Master. ‘I’ll need to ask you some questions too, but I’d like to talk to Dr Riess and Professor Wellesley first, if that’s alright?’
‘Very well. Let me know when you’re ready for me.’ The Master turned to Amanda. ‘Don’t go, Mrs Bridgefield. I think you’d better arrange for some breakfast to be brought to the SCR – and perhaps have a trolley of tea and coffee brought out to the main quad for the police team. And then, I’d like to discuss what arrangements we need to make for the conference delegates who are going to start arriving before noon. Can we direct them in through the back entrance, to avoid them seeing all this police activity?’
Martin and Paula sat down. Jonah positioned his wheelchair next to Paula, and Bernie perched on the arm of Martin’s chair, leaving the other two armchairs for Anna and Andy. Anna looked at them for a few seconds, trying to assess exactly what the relationships were between the four people in front of her. Why had Dr Reiss called Bernie in time for her to arrive on the scene before the CID team? Were he and Professor Wellesley merely colleagues or was there something more between them? Was Jonah here simply for the thrill of the chase, or did he also have a personal interest?
‘Dr Riess,’ she began at last. ‘Please tell me exactly what happened this morning.’
‘We were coming down Goose Lane when we noticed the door was open – the one through the wall into the Fellows’ Garden. It’s supposed to be kept locked. So we-’
‘Just a minute,’ Anna interrupted. ‘What time was this – approximately?’
‘About half past seven, I should think.’
‘It had just turned twenty-five past when we came round the corner into Goose Lane,’ Paula added. ‘I remember looking at my watch.’
‘I see,’ Anna said thoughtfully. ‘That’s quite early to be on your way to work.’
‘We’d just got back from a few days on the canal,’ Martin told her. ‘I’ve got a narrow boat moored down behind Worcester[1]. We arrived back there late last night – too late for me to go home – so we stayed on the boat, and then the plan was to come to breakfast in Hall.’
‘I see,’ Anna repeated. ‘Or at least … why was it too late to go home? Where’s home?’
‘Headington.’
‘Martin and his mum live just round the corner from us,’ Bernie volunteered.
‘When I say it was too late, I mean I didn’t want to disturb my mother.’ Martin explained. ‘She finds it hard to get back to sleep if she’s woken in the night.’
Andy held out a notebook towards Martin. ‘If you wouldn’t mind writing your address and telephone number down there, please sir.’
Anna turned her attention to Paula. ‘And what about you, Professor Wellesley? Where do you live?’
‘Here in college,’ Paula answered promptly ‘I have rooms at the top of Main Quad six. So my address is just “Lichfield College”, but I’ll write down my mobile number for you if you like.’ She took the notebook from Martin, added her number below his and handed the book back to Andy.
‘OK. Thanks.’ Anna looked towards Martin again. ‘Now, to get back to this morning: you saw the door was open and then what?’
‘As I said, it’s supposed to be kept locked,’ Martin continued, ‘so I went to close it. But then, I thought we might as well take advantage of it being unlocked, and cut across the Fellows’ Garden instead of going all the way round to the main gate. So I tried to push the door open.’
‘I thought you said it was open?’ Andy objected.
‘Only an inch or two,’ Martin explained. ‘I had to push it to make enough room to get through, but it wouldn’t open because there was something behind it. I squeezed through and looked to see what it was – and it was a man’s body. He was lying on his side with his head in the flowerbed and his legs on the path. I thought he must be one of the gardeners because he was wearing one of their overalls with the college crest on it. I thought at first he might have fainted, so I bent down and touched his face, but it was stone cold and sort of stiff. Then I noticed there was a big stain on the gravel at the back of him and a tear in the back of his overalls caked in what I assume was blood. It looked like a suspicious death, so then I called 999.’
‘Did you recognise him at all?’ Anna asked. ‘Had you ever seen him before?’
‘Not that I remember, but Paula thinks she has.’
‘I’m sure of it,’ Paula insisted emphatically. ‘I think I’ve seen him around a few times, doing odd jobs in the gardens, and I’m absolutely certain he was there last Friday night. He was cutting dead flower heads off the roses in the bed by the gate from Main Quad and dropping them in a bucket. I said something to him about it being a lovely night and he nodded and said something about how it looked as if maybe summer had come at last.’
There was a tapping sound outside and Anna looked up to see Ruby Mann, the Crime Scene Manager, outside the glass doors. Andy got up and opened them.
‘There’s a lot of ground to cover out here,’ Ruby announced. ‘It’ll take us the rest of the day at the very least. Meanwhile, I thought you might be interested in this.’ She held up a slim imitation leather wallet in her gloved hand. ‘You can take it – we’ve finished with it.’ She dropped it into Andy’s outstretched palm. ‘Oh! And Mike says he’s finished with the body for now, so I’ve arranged for it to be taken to the mortuary. The PM will most likely be tomorrow, but he’ll email you to confirm.’
‘Could you hold off from taking it away just for a few minutes?’ Anna asked. ‘I’d like a few people from the college to have a look at him in case they know who he is.’
‘OK. I’ll have him bagged up and bring him over.’ Ruby paused for a moment. ‘Or you might like to try using the photo on his driving licence. It’s not a bad likeness.’
At this, Anna snatched the wallet from Andy and looked inside it. There were three ten pound notes and two fives, a debit card in the name of Mr R G Hillier and a driving licence bearing a photograph of the deceased and an address in Headington.
‘Robin Hillier,’ she read out, looking towards Martin and Paula. ‘Does that name mean anything to either of you?’
‘No.’ They both shook their heads.
‘About the body?’ Ruby asked Anna again. ‘Is it OK to take it away?’
‘Yes, go ahead,’ Anna murmured absently.
She stood up and turned round, scanning the room with her eyes until she located Russell Milton, sitting on the edge of an easy chair in a corner of the room looking rather out of place in his overalls and gardening boots. She strode across and held out the wallet towards him with the driving licence clearly visible.
‘Do you know this man?’ she asked. ‘His name’s Robin Hillier.’
Russell stared down at the photograph for a few moments and then looked up at Anna.
‘No. I’ve never seen him as far as I remember, and I don’t know that name either.’
‘Can I have a look?’ asked Simon, the chaplain, from the next chair. ‘That name sounds slightly familiar, but I can’t place it.’
Anna handed him the wallet. He studied the photograph carefully before handing it back with a shake of his head. ‘No. It doesn’t ring any bells, I’m afraid. Is this the dead man?’
‘Yes,’ Anna confirmed, ‘and since he was wearing Lichfield College overalls when he died, it seems likely that someone here must know him.’
She went round the room showing the driving licence to everyone present. By now, several more dons had congregated there, all keen to be on hand to hear the latest news. However, none of them remembered having seen the man in the photograph.
‘You ought to try Bernard,’ Martin suggested when she arrived back from her fruitless errand. ‘He’s the Head Porter. He’s been here for donkey’s years and knows everyone.’
‘Andy!’ Anna handed the wallet over to her assistant. ‘Take care of this, and as soon as we’ve finished here take it round all the college staff and see if any of them recognise him.’
Andy nodded, pocketing the wallet. Anna returned to her seat and turned to address Martin and Paula again.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘Let’s get back to what you did this morning. You found the body and rang 999. What then?’
‘I rang the Master to let him know what was going on,’ Martin told her. ‘And … and then I rang Bernie,’ he added, looking a little shamefaced. ‘I hope you don’t mind. It’s just … we’ve know each other for a long time and she’s … I mean, with her being married into the police and …’
‘It’s alright,’ Anna assured him with a smile. ‘Jonah and I go back a long way too, and I don’t have a problem with him being here. Now go on – what did you do after you’d finished your phone calls? Did you stay with the body?’
‘No,’ Paula answered. ‘We closed the door into the street and then went to the Porters’ Lodge to warn them and to be there to meet the police when they arrived.’
‘You closed the door?’ queried Anna. ‘Just closed it? Or closed it and locked it?’
‘It’s got a Yale-style lock,’ Paula explained. ‘It locks automatically if you just push it to. Anyone can open it from the inside of the garden, but you can only get in from the outside if you have a key.’
‘And how many people have keys?’ Anna asked.
‘You’d have to ask Bernard,’ Martin told her. ‘He’s in charge of all the college keys.’
‘I think the gardeners have one,’ Paula added. ‘I’ve certainly seen them using that door to bring their wheel barrows through. It’s wider than the one from the main quad.’
‘Do either of you have a key?’
‘No,’ Martin answered for both of them. ‘They try to keep the number of keys to external doors down to a minimum for security reasons. All members of college – fellows and undergraduates – are issued with a key to the wicket gate in the main entrance, so they can come and go after the main doors are locked. We all have keys to our own rooms and tutorial fellows have a key to the Pendleton Seminar Room, which is used for teaching. The other internal doors have combination locks.’
‘OK. I think I’d better speak to this Head Porter of yours,’ Anna murmured. ‘Where will I find him?’
‘He’ll be in the lodge, I should think,’ Martin answered.
‘Or in the main quad, keeping an eye on your people coming and going,’ Paula suggested. ‘I could ring him on his mobile if you like.’
‘Yes. Please do that,’ Anna said gratefully. ‘Ask him to come in here so I can ask him a few questions.’
* * *
Bernard Malpas, the Head Porter, was an elderly-looking man with a bald head and pale blue eyes behind half-moon glasses. Paula met him at the door of the SCR and led him across the room to where Anna was waiting for him. At a gesture from her, he sat down in the chair vacated by Paula, who pulled up another for herself.
‘What can I do for you, then?’ he asked, looking Anna directly in the eye.
‘First of all, do you know this man at all?’ Andy asked, leaning forwards and showing him the driving licence. ‘His name’s Robin Hillier and he’s wearing Lichfield College overalls.’
‘Robin?’ Bernard exclaimed, hardly glancing at the licence. ‘Of course I know Robin! At least, I did when he worked here, but that’s a good few years back now – in Brian Bingley’s time.’
‘Brian Bingley?’ Anna queried.
‘The last Head Gardener – before Russell Milton took over. That must’ve been … let me think now … two thousand and … fifteen, it must’ve been. Robin left a few months before he did – a great pity that. He was all lined up to take over from Brian, but he threw in the towel and took early retirement.’
‘Oh?’ said Jonah with interest. ‘And what prompted him to do that?’
He …,’ Bernard paused as if unsure whether to go on. Then he sighed and looked round at each of the group in turn. ‘I suppose someone’ll tell you even if I don’t. I’m not one to speak ill of the dead – especially not a senior member of the college but … well, the thing is …’
‘Yes?’ prompted Jonah.
‘See that address there?’ Bernard pointed at the driving licence. ‘That’s not Robin’s house, where his wife and kids live. That belongs – belonged – to one of the fellows. Dr Augusta Peckforton was Modern Languages Fellow for more than twenty-five years. She was already here before I started as a junior porter under my predecessor, Frank Jessop. She died last year. There’s a bench in the Fellows’ Garden with a plaque on it with her name on.’
‘So you’re saying that this Robin Hillier was living with a Lichfield Fellow?’ exclaimed Bernie. ‘How very Lady Chatterley’s lover!’
‘How long had that arrangement been going on?’ asked Jonah.
‘I couldn’t say precisely,’ Bernard answered. ‘They didn’t make an official announcement about it, but it must’ve been the late eighties I reckon – a good long time ago anyway. There’d been rumours about her before, but nothing was ever proved.’
‘What sort of rumours?’ demanded Anna sharply.
‘Something about an affair with a young research fellow, I think it was. As I said, nothing came of it and after he left the rumours died down.’
‘You were telling us about why Robin Hillier took early retirement,’ Jonah reminded him. ‘I gather he was one of the college gardeners?’
‘That’s right,’ Bernard nodded. ‘He left so’s he could look after Dr Peckforton full-time. She was a lot older than him, you see, and not in the best of health.’
‘I see,’ Jonah said thoughtfully, pursing his lips in concentration. ‘And you said he had a wife and children? Do you have their address, by any chance?’
‘No, I’m afraid not.’ Bernard shook his head. ‘I rather fancy they had a house out Cowley way, but I may be wrong about that. They could easily have moved since then, anyhow.’
‘You don’t happen to know his wife’s name, do you?’ asked Anna hopefully.
‘No, but I daresay his HR records may have it – assuming they’ve still got them. We all have to give details of our next-of-kin because of the death-in-service benefits. The Master would be able to tell you how to find them. He’d know more about Dr Peckforton too.’
‘Thank you. I’ll ask him about it.’ Anna looked up from the notebook that she had been using to record the information that Bernard had imparted. ‘Now, I think we can let you go.’ She handed him a business card. ‘If you think of anything else that might help us to work out what Robin Hillier was doing in the Fellows’ Garden or who might have killed him, please ring this number.’
‘Right you are!’ Bernard took the card, glanced down at it briefly and then put it in his jacket pocket before getting up and heading for the door. Anna looked round the room in search of the Master. She caught his eye and he came hurrying over to join them.
‘Your Head porter has identified our victim,’ Anna told him. ‘He says it’s a Robin Hillier, who used to work as a gardener here. Do you remember him at all?’
‘I’m sorry,’ the Master shook his head, ‘I can’t say I do. When did he leave? If he wasn’t employed here anymore, what was he doing in the garden?’
‘According to Mr Malpas, about five years ago,’ Anna answered. ‘Apparently Hillier was living with a retired don called Augusta Peckforton, who died recently. What can you tell me about her?’
‘August-? Oh! Now I remember!’ The Master looked round at them all with a mixture of amusement and disapproval on his face. ‘Augusta was a bit of a character. She had a very strong personality and liked to get her own way. Yes, I do remember one of the gardeners moving in with her. I’d just forgotten the name. She left a substantial sum to the college in her will.’
‘She was well-off then?’ Anna queried.
‘I suppose so. I gather the house she had in Headington was worth a good bit. Oxford property prices are well above average as I’m sure you are aware. If you really want to know, the person you need to speak to is the bursar. She dealt with the executor. She may even still have a copy of the will. Would you like me to take you to her office?’
‘Yes please.’ Anna got up, closing her notebook as she did so and putting it into the pocket of her jacket. ‘I’d be very interested to know whether she left anything to Robin Hillier, and also what relatives she had who might have expected to have inherited from her.’
The Master walked across the room, heading for the door into the main quadrangle. Anna started to follow him. Then she turned back to address her sergeant. ‘Andy! I’d like you to talk to the Head Gardener again and get him to introduce you to the rest of his staff. Find out what they know about Robin Hillier.’
Jonah watched as Andy had a short conversation with Russell Milton, after which the two men left through a door on the opposite side of the room from the one through which Jonah and his friends had entered. He caught a brief glimpse of stone pillars with sunlight slanting between them across a paved floor before the door swung closed behind them.
He swivelled his chair back round to face the others. Martin and Paula were sitting in adjacent chairs, talking together in low voices. Bernie was standing by the glass doors gazing out at the team of SOCOs as they systematically worked their way across the garden painstakingly hunting for evidence that might explain what had happened to Robin Hillier.
‘Where does that door lead?’ she asked sharply, turning to Martin. ‘The one in the wall on the right.’
Jonah, Martin and Paula all came over and looked out through the door or window at the Fellows’ Garden. Bernie pointed to where two of the crime scene investigation team were examining a doorway in the wall of a tall building that ran along the right-hand side of the garden.
‘I’m not sure,’ Martin confessed. I’d never really noticed it before. That’s the chapel you can see there, but …,’ he paused to think. ‘The chapel’s at a higher level. You go up steps to get to it from the quad, and that door looks as if it’s down a couple of steps from the garden.’ He turned to Paula. ‘What d’you reckon? Is there a room under the chapel?’
‘A sort of crypt, do you mean?’ asked Jonah excitedly.
‘I’m not sure.’ Paula shook her head. ‘I can’t say I’d noticed it before either. But I agree with Martin. I think it must go under the chapel.’
They all watched as the two SOCOs continued their examination of the door and doorframe. After a few minutes, evidently satisfied that they had collected any evidence that these had to offer, they disappeared through the opening into the darkness beyond.
Jonah turned to Martin and Paula. ‘Did either of you know Augusta Peckforton?’
‘I’d never heard of her until she died,’ Paula said at once. ‘She must’ve retired well before I arrived.’
‘I remember her,’ Martin answered, ‘but I wouldn’t say I really knew her. She retired a few years after I came back from America and then, like a lot of academics, she came back for a while to deliver a few lectures each year and to supervise her remaining DPhil students.’
‘What was she like?’
‘Old,’ Martin shrugged. ‘Rather intimidating. Thought very highly of herself. I believe that she was brought in when the college decided to go co-ed back in the seventies. They wanted a few female dons to help temper the all-male environment, which they were afraid might frighten off women from applying.’
‘She was single, presumably,’ suggested Jonah. ‘Or was that why she didn’t marry this Robin Hillier who seems to have been so devoted to her?’
‘As far as I know,’ Martin shrugged. ‘As I say, I didn’t really know the woman. We just bumped into each other occasionally in here or when the Master required us to dine on High Table. I never heard the rumours about her shacking up with one of the gardeners. Obviously I’m not as well-informed as the domestic staff!’
* * *
Anna meanwhile was having an interesting time in the bursar’s office. Fatima Mubarak, a small olive-skinned woman wearing a pale grey hijab over a darker grey tunic and trousers, was immediately able to locate a copy of Augusta Peckforton’s will in one of the tall filing cabinets that lined her room.
‘She left a very generous legacy to the college,’ she told Anna, pointing to the relevant clauses in the will. ‘A small amount was dedicated to putting a new bench in the Fellows’ Garden and the rest was to endow a travel bursary for Modern Languages students.’
‘Was there any particular reason why she wanted the bench put there?’ asked Anna. ‘Did she have any special connection with the garden?’
‘The will says something about “fond memories”,’ Fatima answered, pointing down at the document. ‘Make of that what you will!’ She smiled, catching Anna’s eye for a moment. ‘I suppose you know about her liaison with one of the gardeners?’
‘Yes. That’s why we’re interested in her. In particular, I’d like to know if he’s mentioned in the will at all.’
‘Nope!’ Fatima pursed her lips and shook her head. ‘There’s just this legacy to the college and then the residual legatee and executor is her sister.’
‘She had a sister?’ Anna asked eagerly. ‘You don’t happen to have an address for her, by any chance?’
‘Yes, I do. We had quite a bit of correspondence. In fact, it’s here in the will, on the front page where she appoints her as executor.’
‘And that address is still current?’
‘It was last time we communicated, which was only a couple of months ago.’
‘Good. That’s very useful. Can you let me have a copy of this?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Fatima spun her chair round and handed the document to her secretary, a red-faced young man with a sparse ginger beard and acne, who was sitting at a desk positioned against the wall behind her. ‘Here Ben! Take this and make a photocopy for the inspector.’
The lad got up slowly and walked in a leisurely manner across the room to the photocopying machine. Fatima turned back to Anna.
‘Was there anything else?’
‘Yes. Do you know if the college still has a record of Robin Hillier’s home address – or his wife’s name? He’s the gardener who went to live with Dr Peckforton and has now been found dead in the Fellows’ Garden. I’ve been told he retired from his job early about five years ago.’
‘I should think we’ll still have those details on file.’ Fatima started pulling up records on her computer screen as she spoke. ‘We usually keep that sort of thing for former members of staff in case there are any queries about their pension. Often widows aren’t sure what to do about it when their husband dies and we have to guide them through the process. Ah! Here we are!’
She leaned back to allow Anna to look at the screen. His wife’s name is Jill and when this record was last updated they had two dependent children – but they must be grown up by now, it looks as if nothing’s been changed since the nineteen eighties.’
‘So that address may be out-of-date,’ Anna murmured. ‘Never mind! It’s better than nothing. At least it gives us somewhere to start.’
‘Shall I print that off for you?’ Fatima asked, clicking on the “print” icon without waiting for a response.
‘Yes please. And now, to get back to Dr Peckforton’s sister – can you tell me anything more about her? Is she younger or older than Augusta was? Does she have a family at all?’
‘As far as I know, she’s a younger sister, unmarried and no children or partner. She’s an archaeologist. I gather she was quite eminent in her time, so you can probably look her up on Wikipedia.’
‘Thanks.’ Anna collected the printout and the copy of Augusta’s will and prepared to leave. She handed Fatima one of her cards. ‘If you think of anything else that might help our investigation, please give me a ring on this number.
[1] Worcester College is one of the colleges of the University of Oxford.