Saffron shook her head at her friend. Of course her anger had dissolved at the mention of a potential romance. “Don’t you think six months is rather a long time to string along a man you’ve known for a few weeks? What if he meets someone and cables me, ‘Never mind about all that. I’ve found a beautiful Amazonian to fall over.’ I would be quite crushed.”
“Bosh,” Elizabeth said with a snort. She poured the tea. “You would cry your heart out for a day and feel better the next. That’s precisely what you did after that nonsense with Archie Davis last year. Saff, you work at a university. It’s practically crawling with men who’d love to listen to you discuss the intricacies of pollination in tropical environs!”
Saffron couldn’t manage a laugh. All scientists were not created equally as romantic interests, as she’d discovered thanks to Archie. She’d thought she might have found a partner in more than just the romantic sense when the zoologist had done his very best to sweep her off her feet. That impression was short-lived. She could still hear his nasally voice encouraging her to “recant on this university business” and “take up her proper place with her family,” preferably with him in tow.
Alexander, though he was older and better qualified, had shown respect and even deference for her expertise in the short hours they’d worked together. Even when she’d acted a fool, blabbering about rain of all things, he’d taken it in stride. He’d reminded her of Wesley, who’d listened patiently to her describe every flower and leaf as a girl. But now she’d made what was likely to be too big of a mistake for Alexander to overlook.
Looking down at her cup of tea, Saffron sighed heavily. “I might have completely ruined it. It might not matter whether I like Alexander or not.”
Elizabeth looked at her friend thoughtfully. “Darling, if you had heard him on the telephone or seen his face when he walked into the flat, you wouldn’t be so worried.”
CHAPTER 9
Saffron decided not to go to the university that morning, not because she didn’t feel fully recovered yet, but because she was sure she’d go to pieces again on seeing Dr. Maxwell’s ransacked office. Avoiding Alexander was another benefit.
While the radio cranked out ballads and important-sounding voices recited important-sounding news, Saffron sat at the desk in the sitting room and wrote letters to her mother, grandmother, and cousin John. Her mother heard all about the dramatic poisoning at the party and Saffron’s speaking to the police. Her grandmother heard all about the party, the importance of which was exaggerated for her grandmother’s benefit. Neither of her grandparents were the least concerned about her work, apart from disapproving that she was working. Their relationship was, at times, precarious, communications having only just reopened in the last year, when Saffron graduated. They would perhaps be gratified to hear she’d dined with the Leisters. To her cousin John, whom she’d always been close to, as she had no siblings, she wrote about it all: the party, the police, the poisoning—though not the self-administered kind—and Alexander Ashton. John would appreciate her showing an interest in something other than plants for once.
A knock on the door right after lunch interrupted her just as she was affixing postage to the envelopes.
Saffron peered through the viewer. Her stomach twisted at the sight of Detective Inspector Green.
She let the inspector and Sergeant Simpson inside. They declined the tea and stood awkwardly in the sitting room until Saffron requested they make themselves comfortable. Watery afternoon light illuminated the space filled with books and magazines, all neatly in place after Elizabeth’s most recent cleaning. Inspector Green, sitting in an armchair, looked just as bland as she remembered, with his plain, dark brown suit and his unremarkable brown hair and eyes. The sergeant took up his usual position by the door, his rosy cheeks and fair hair almost comical beneath his domed helmet.
Saffron settled onto the couch opposite the inspector. She attempted to leave her unease out of her voice as she said, “How can I help you, Inspector?”
“I’m sorry to bother you when you’re feeling unwell, Miss Everleigh,” the inspector began, “but I had an interesting conversation this morning that I wanted to hear your opinion on. One of my sergeants came to me with news that Dr. Maxwell’s niece came to see him, and they had discussed, among other things, a bird with a foreign-sounding name.” His eyebrows lifted slightly. Saffron’s heart began to pound, but she arranged her face to look politely interested. “This niece was described as young, dark haired, and slim. Dressed in blue. I believe you wore a blue dress when I saw you at the university yesterday morning.”