She placed the papers carefully back where she had found them, then moved on to the desk drawers. Unfortunately, Berking didn’t seem to be as careless as Dr. Henry; his drawers were all locked. Saffron frowned. She didn’t want to attempt to pick each one open. She had spare keys for Maxwell’s desk—not that Maxwell ever remembered to lock his drawers—so perhaps Pierce had another set for Berking’s desk. She hurried into the outer room, sliding her pins into the lock on Pierce’s top desk drawer. After a struggle, she pulled the drawer open and smiled at the key nestled among a handful of pens.
Back in the gloom of Berking’s office, Saffron opened the bottom right drawer. She sorted through files and files on the botany department’s recent studies, with notes from each researcher. She flicked through and paused at her own name across the top of a file. Frowning, she fished the paper out and saw that it was her study proposal, the one she’d presented when she’d met with Berking and he’d attempted to get at her. Saffron turned a few pages, wondering why he’d bothered to file it.
She moved to the next drawer. Nothing but budget records.
After twenty minutes of unlocking drawers, revealing nothing of interest apart from Berking’s checkbook, full of random names and sums, and a bag of sweets containing only licorice, Saffron looked to the cabinets behind the desk. The first cabinet was a fast job. It had Berking’s work clothes and boots, evidently stored in case Berking ever deigned to do some work in the greenhouses. A few personal effects, like a bottle of cologne, lay in a shallow drawer.
Her hands began to sweat. There had to be something here, something to make this worth manipulating Alexander into an illegal activity. Surely she hadn’t broken into Berking’s office for nothing.
She went to the second cabinet, unlocked it quickly, and looked around. She glanced over the various boxes of files and folders of what appeared to be very old botany department business, and shuffled through a few of the papers, recognizing names from her father’s or Maxwell’s stories.
Her fingers stilled as they passed over a familiar script. She slipped the yellowing folder from between the papers and looked down at her father’s handwriting elegantly rolling across the page, describing something relating to breeding and heterosis. Thomas Everleigh had died several years before Berking even joined University College, but several of the names she’d seen belonged to men no longer at the university. It really wasn’t so strange, even if it felt wrong that Berking had something of her father’s.
She was just contemplating taking the file with her when a sound froze her entire body. It was the worst possible sound she could imagine in that moment. Dr. Berking’s voice booming from the hall.
Saffron replaced the file back in the stack and closed the cabinet as silently as her shaking hands would allow. She nearly cried out when the door to Pierce’s office outside banged open. Her heart pounding in her throat, she heard Alexander’s voice speaking loudly. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she hoped it would stall Berking long enough for her to conceal herself. There wasn’t enough room in either cabinet for her to hide. She dropped to her knees and crawled out of sight, moving aside Berking’s enormous chair and diving under the desk. Just as she resettled the chair in front of her, the door to the room opened.
Saffron pressed her hand against her mouth, barely breathing. She was both terrified and furious. How had Berking gotten past Alexander? Why was he in his office so late? He was supposed to be at the dinner party with the other professors. He never missed the chance to drink and gossip.
Saffron tried to focus on what Berking was calling to Alexander rather than the fact that his voice was getting closer.
“Oh yes, yes, Ashton.” His loud voice was a little slurred. “Can’t say that it won’t be tricky! The natives of any country can be dangerous. No use getting upset about the possibilities.”
“I just mean, sir,” Alexander’s tight voice said, “that Snyder implied there was some trouble to be had. Dr. Henry apparently always carries a knife and a gun. Surely that isn’t necessary.”
Dr. Berking’s footsteps shook the floor beneath her as he drew closer to the desk. Her fingers curled around her mouth, digging into her skin as she prayed her breathing wasn’t as loud as it seemed to her own ears.
“Ashton, my boy, don’t worry about Henry. He might think he’s in charge”—Berking let out a barking laugh, causing Saffron to jump in her hiding spot; he was standing right in front of her now—“but his part to play in the whole expedition is small. Growing smaller every day! Now, where is it!”