“It is a common enough color, Inspector. I would think your wife owns several blue dresses herself.” Saffron held his gaze while waiting for him to pass judgment. She was quite sure she’d done nothing illegal, even if definitely dishonest.
After a long time, Inspector Green frowned and said, “I believe you took up the guise of a concerned niece. Seems to me that either you are trying to cover up your crime or assist someone in the completion of the business.”
Her eyes opened wide. “The completion of the business? Would that be finishing off the Henrys?”
The inspector shrugged. “As you say.”
She glared at him. Finishing off a woman she hadn’t even spoken to! “Inspector Green, I don’t know Mrs. Henry. I don’t work with Dr. Henry or know either of them personally. What motive would I have to harm his wife?”
“That is what I am trying to discover.”
Saffron opened her mouth and then closed it. She thought furiously, but nothing helpful came to mind. He’d hardly believe she was trying to discover the truth. She could give him the xolotl notes now, but the tone of the conversation was distinctly hostile, and she didn’t think it would be at all well received. Her suspicion was confirmed a moment later when the inspector spoke again.
“I’m given to understand that Dr. Henry has a fondness for young ladies.” The inspector stood from the armchair and walked a few paces, his steps muffled on the cream-colored carpet. From the mantle, he said, “Perhaps he caught your eye, and Mrs. Henry was in the way.”
Saffron nearly laughed but caught herself. No man, however handsome or charming, was worth that much trouble. Dr. Henry, a renowned flirt and philanderer, would be at the bottom of Saffron’s list, right next to Dr. Berking and his like.
“I can see you’re amused by my theory. Let me try another one.” The inspector’s eyes bore into hers. “A research assistant, hard-working and intelligent, goes to work in a department where her value is boiled down to her good looks, and her acceptance is predicated on her father’s reputation.” Saffron bridled at those words but kept her mouth shut. “A professor takes her under his wing, a man she grew up knowing and admiring, and gives her opportunities that others won’t. Another professor, a bit of a brute, puts her down and harasses her. Rumors are spread, the kind that would end her young career.” Saffron’s stomach lurched. The inspector’s voice droned on smoothly, weaving his sordid tale. “The assistant goes to her champion. The professor has just been dealt a blow to his ego—he isn’t to go on the impending international expedition, the opportunity he needed to make his research relevant again. They are angry. They hatch a plan to eliminate both offending men in one blow, using a toxin they have on hand that is unidentifiable to anyone but them.”
In the silence that followed, Saffron struggled to analyze the theory as justly as she could, having just been accused of plotting murders. “That’s very good, Inspector, right up until the end. Am I correct in assuming that you’re suggesting Dr. Maxwell and I attempted to poison Dr. Henry?”
“Are you refuting it?”
Saffron’s brow pinched together at the careful tone. Her eyes wandered to the stack of letters on the desk. What would Inspector Green do if she telephoned her mother or grandfather and asked for them to send one of their solicitors? Her grandfather would likely make it impossible for her to stay in London, as he’d threatened to do countless times. This time, when faced with his granddaughter being accused of attempted murder, he would almost certainly follow through. She’d better find a way out of this herself.
She drew herself up and said calmly, “I don’t think I need to, but I shall now. A simple evaluation of facts will prove your theory incorrect.”
Simpson shifted behind her, and Inspector Green lifted an eyebrow. “Indeed?”
Saffron saw the same idle doubt on the inspector’s face as she’d contended with a hundred times. She could handle it again. “When did I place poison in the glass? I was far across the table from both of the Henrys during dinner. During the first go-round of champagne glasses, I was in the hall with Mr. Ashton, accidentally overhearing the conversation between Mrs. Henry and Lady Agatha, which I reported to you. I had no opportunity to touch either of their glasses, as when we returned the toast was already being made. Later, I came to say goodnight to the Leisters after they had already poured their champagne and the glasses were in their hands, apart from Mrs. Henry, who was handed her glass as I attempted to speak to Lady Agatha. Others can vouch for my being far from Mrs. Henry and the champagne. Dr. Maxwell was nowhere near Mrs. Henry for the entire evening either, nor did he interact with Dr. Henry, to my knowledge. Furthermore, I have never been in Dr. Henry’s office or his home. I daresay you and your colleagues have taken up using fingerprints. I’m happy to provide you a set of mine, and you may check it against those found on Mrs. Henry’s glass. Finally, I fail to see how the professor who you say harassed me plays into it at all.”