Saffron shot him a dubious look. “All right? I’ve just told you I lied to the police, and they think that we’re … well, they think that you can’t be trusted to be objective when I’m involved. We’re about to give evidence to them!”
Alexander looked sideways at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We can’t do anything about it now. Just don’t bring it up. Plus, I see that you’ve adopted a disguise. No one will recognize you as the false niece.”
They waited for ten minutes before Inspector Green marched through the doors with a small paper bag from which was emanating a scent of bread, asked the sergeant for updates, then turned with a frown to his guests in the visitors’ chairs.
“Good morning, Inspector,” Saffron said brightly, her nervousness dissipating at the amusing prospect of the inspector’s breakfast. “Please, don’t allow us to keep you. We are happy to wait.”
“Thank you,” he said curtly, and marched on into the din of shuffling bodies and paper.
They were shown into the inspector’s office a few minutes later, where the warm scent of bread had disappeared into the musty miasma of the station. The small room was as neat as Alexander’s office, though stuffed to the gills with files. They were organized with precision on his desk, and numerous filing cabinets covered the dark paneling on the walls. The paint had probably once been white, but now looked gray in the dim light from the frosted window behind the inspector’s desk. When they sat in a pair of rickety chairs, Saffron looked expectantly at Alexander.
“Inspector Green,” he began, “Miss Everleigh and I have some evidence regarding the poisoning of Mrs. Henry.”
The inspector opened his notebook and poised his pen at the top of a page. “Go on.”
Alexander took a deep breath and began. “Miss Everleigh and I had some thoughts regarding the suspected use of the xolotl plant. Dr. Maxwell was responsible for the plant originally, but since he returned from his travels with a cutting some years ago, it has lived in the greenhouses at the university, where nearly anyone could get some. I myself went into the greenhouses with no trouble the other day, although I’m not a member of the botany department. The caretaker mentioned that several people had recently shown an interest in the plant.”
Here he paused, giving the inspector an opportunity to interrupt. He didn’t, but merely looked back at Alexander.
Saffron’s fingers were slippery within her gloves. Why did Inspector Green have to be so inexpressive? She had no idea what he was thinking.
“Miss Everleigh was distressed that Dr. Maxwell was arrested. She suggested we conduct an experiment to prove that the xolotl vine was not the plant used to poison Mrs. Henry.” Alexander shifted uncomfortably, coming to the lie. “Using the guidance of an old journal Miss Everleigh discovered among Dr. Maxwell’s things, we retrieved a sample of the plant, and Miss Everleigh took a small dose to see what the effects were. We recorded the experiment to the best of our abilities and brought the results to you.”
Saffron passed Inspector Green her typed notes and the tattered notebook. He opened and scanned through the summary on the first page. As he read, his face was still impassive as ever, although toward the end his mouth thinned to a grim line.
“Well, Mr. Ashton,” he said, leaning back in his chair and putting down his pen, “this certainly seems to point in the direction of the xolotl plant not being the culprit.”
“That is what we believe,” Alexander replied, matching the inspector’s unaffected tone.
“You say that you agreed to carry out this experiment. I find it hard to believe that you would allow Miss Everleigh to take poison with your support.”
Compared to the two men, Saffron felt ready to burst with all the tension. She jumped in. “Mr. Ashton offered to take it himself, of course. But it had to be me, the same approximate height and weight of Mrs. Henry, for the experiment to be as relevant as possible.” She cursed her quick, nervous cadence.
“Even so, Miss Everleigh,” the inspector said, turning his impassive eyes to her, “because of your own suspected involvement, you must see that I cannot take you at your word.”
“Of course not, Inspector,” she said. “You’re not taking just my word. You’re taking Mr. Ashton’s, too, who witnessed the experiment.”
“Indeed,” he said, his voice utterly flat.
“I know it isn’t my place to say, but there are a number of other people who attended the party who could have been the poisoner,” Saffron said earnestly. “Dr. Henry, for one. Even Richard Blake could have been responsible.”