She cast a glance over to Dr. Maxwell’s vacant desk, far too empty of clutter and long-cold cups of tea. Perhaps by now the professor had heard more about the evidence against him and could give her more of an idea of what was left for her to disprove.
CHAPTER 13
The next morning, Saffron crossed the ugly tiled floor of the police station to the sergeant’s desk with her chin held high despite her nerves.
“Back again?” asked the familiar sergeant, a twinkle in his eye.
There was no waiting this time, as Inspector Green himself had agreed to let her visit Dr. Maxwell when she’d telephoned the previous day. She was led immediately back through the catacombs of the station, which was a bit quieter in the early morning hours, to the same small room with table and chairs. Dr. Maxwell, looking disheveled, braced his hands on the table to stand.
“Professor!” she cried, rushing to him. “Are you all right?”
“Don’t worry about me, my dear,” he said, his voice hoarse. He attempted a smile under his mass of whiskers. His tired eyes had shadows under them, and his hands were shaking badly.
She rounded on the inspector, who had settled in a chair opposite the professor’s. “Inspector, Dr. Maxwell doesn’t look at all well! He needs to see a doctor.”
“Saffron—” began Dr. Maxwell before erupting into a cough.
Inspector Green merely raised an eyebrow.
Saffron slammed her handbag onto the table. “Truly, Inspector, this is getting to be ridiculous! He clearly had no part in the poisoning, and now you’re keeping him here without proper evidence, just hearsay from the guiltier parties—”
“Just a moment—” Dr. Maxwell tried to interrupt again, looking from her reddening face to Inspector Green.
Temper boiling over, she cried, “No, Professor! I proved that the xolotl vine wasn’t what hurt Mrs. Henry, and that was their only reason to arrest you other than the ridiculous rumor that you threatened Dr. Henry!” Saffron faltered on seeing Maxwell’s chagrined expression. “Oh no, Professor … you didn’t actually threaten him, did you?”
He gave her a small, guilty smile and said, “I may have suggested something …”
“Do sit down, Miss Everleigh,” the inspector said, gesturing to the chair in front of her.
She sat, her face radiantly hot. “I didn’t believe it, sir, not even when Alexander told me—”
The professor looked at her sharply. “Alexander Ashton? You’re not still hanging about with him, are you?”
Inspector Green cut in before she could ask him what he meant. “I agreed that you could see Dr. Maxwell today because he is no longer under arrest for the poisoning.”
“Oh, but that’s wonderful!” Saffron exclaimed, squeezing the professor’s gnarled hand and smiling at him. Of the inspector, she asked, “What made you decide he was innocent? And why didn’t you just tell me when I telephoned?”
“It is not information I want shared just yet. We need the poisoner to think that they’re free and clear.” Inspector Green leaned forward, bracing his arms on the scratched tabletop. “Can you think of anyone that might want to frame Dr. Maxwell? Anyone with a grudge against him, apart from his argument with Dr. Henry?”
Saffron didn’t miss that he didn’t answer her question about how he’d determined Maxwell wasn’t responsible. She doubted he would admit that her experiment had something to do with it. She cleared her throat. “Well, no, except for Dr. Berking or Dr. Henry. Dr. Maxwell gets along with most people.” She patted the professor’s hand again.
The inspector nodded. “We know about those issues. If you will excuse me, I’ll just make a telephone call.”
When the door shut behind him, Saffron turned back to Maxwell. “Do you really think someone is framing you?”
“I can’t be sure, but the inspector certainly seems to think so,” he said. His brows dipped low over his glasses. “What is all this about you proving the xolotl vine wasn’t the poison?”
She looked anywhere but into his eyes. She’d never had to lie to the professor before and wasn’t sure she would be able to do it convincingly. Given how unwell he looked, she wasn’t going to give him another shock by admitting she’d poisoned herself. “I was sure there must have been a journal or paper that was left out of the police’s search, so Mrs. Maxwell and I searched through your study. And I was right. I found an old journal from your original voyage, and it had an account of xolotl poisoning. The symptoms were quite different from what Mrs. Henry experienced. She didn’t have blue lines on her hands, for one thing.” She smiled brightly, as if it would keep him from suspecting anything else.