Maxwell continued frowning, a hand drifting to his scruffy chin. “Now that you mention it, that does ring a bell …”
Relieved, Saffron patted his hand again, her smile turning genuine. “And you’re to be released—that’s wonderful news. I hated to see Mrs. Maxwell in such a state over you.”
Maxwell cleared his throat. “Saffron, my dear, I really don’t think you should be mixed up with Ashton.”
Confused, Saffron asked, “Whyever not?”
“He’s a good scientist. His recent work has been most impressive.” Saffron waited for Dr. Maxwell to give her a good reason to avoid Alexander, but he looked unwilling to continue, eyes avoiding hers just as she avoided his. “He’s done well at the university. But in the past … he may not have the most even temper.”
Saffron nearly laughed. Alexander was the most even-tempered man she’d ever met, except perhaps Inspector Green. She’d endangered them both with her experiment, and he’d done nothing more than give her the telling-off she’d deserved and then helped her. In a gently chiding voice, she asked, “What about your temper, professor? Did you really tell Dr. Henry you would poison him?”
“Not in so many words, but I’m afraid that was the gist. I had just spoken with that”—Maxwell cleared his throat again, his face flushing beneath his white whiskers—“with Dr. Berking about your encounter, and I was rather hot under the collar, you see. Dr. Henry called me to see him, and I went, expecting to discuss arrangements for the expedition. Instead, he laughed at me. He said it was foolish to think he’d let an old man slow down his expedition.” The professor’s kind face darkened. “So I told him that if he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself laid out in the jungle somewhere, choking on his own—”
“Right,” Saffron interrupted. “But you were upset. Surely you didn’t mean it!”
“No, no, I meant that, Saffron.” He looked earnestly at her. “Dr. Henry is a foolish man, running around without consideration. For goodness’ sake, he wants to make his own department just to satisfy his ego! The man pushes his way into any situation that pleases him. He has knowledge of the field, to be sure, but he tramples over people around the university all the time. I’m not surprised someone tried to remove him.”
“And Dr. Berking?” Saffron asked.
Maxwell shook his head. “I’m afraid I lost my temper with him too. I suppose, Everleigh, when one gets to a certain age, one is no longer willing to put up with certain behaviors and attitudes.”
Just then, the inspector opened the door, saying it was time for Dr. Maxwell to leave.
“What? Now?” Saffron asked.
“We’re moving him to his other residence outside London. All done without anyone’s knowledge, of course”—he looked at her significantly—“or else the poisoner might try something on the professor.”
Saffron helped Maxwell to his feet. She kissed his fuzzy cheek and said a tearful goodbye, incredibly relieved he was no longer imprisoned and yet sad to see him go.
* * *
A huge weight had been lifted off Saffron’s shoulders now Dr. Maxwell was safely away and out of trouble. She herself seemed no longer to be under suspicion either. Saffron wasn’t satisfied, however. A puzzle was laid out before her, with only half the pieces revealed. She was confident that she could solve the rest of the mystery, no matter how many times she was told it wasn’t her place to do so. The inspector must have taken her evidence to heart in order for Maxwell to be released, so he might listen to more evidence she could find.
After a restless weekend dissecting her clues with an increasingly uninterested Elizabeth, Saffron was ready with a plan come Monday. She was going to narrow down the list of suspects. She now had four: Dr. Henry, Richard Blake, Eris Ermine, and Dr. Berking. Saffron had added Berking to the list, telling herself it was because he was present during the champagne and had suspiciously forced his way into the expedition, and not because it gave her satisfaction to write it down on a list of possible murderers. She was trying to be as objective as possible, as any good scientist would.
Dr. Henry seemed the most likely person to try to kill his wife, so she decided to begin with him. Harry Snyder, sounding harassed on the telephone, replied that Dr. Henry was not in the office. Saffron decided that maybe Mr. Snyder needed a little distraction from whatever he was so worried about.
She carefully reapplied her lipstick and adjusted the front of her pale green dress in the lavatory mirror. With a firm nod to her reflection, she reminded herself that Harry Snyder was a far cry from Dr. Berking. Not all men were monsters.