“The inspector has far more information than we do, and now we’ve given him even more to consider. I’m sure he will figure it out. After all, he is trained to solve crimes.”
Saffron, curiosity still burning, said, “But it could be weeks before he solves it! You could be stuck in the Amazon with a murderer by then!”
“Plants and poisons may be in your wheelhouse, but an embezzlement scheme is better handled by the police.” Alexander smiled, his tone softening. “If we see or hear anything else, we can let Inspector Green know.”
* * *
The bus jostled Saffron and Alexander together and apart in turn as it trundled back toward Fitzrovia. As they entered the Quad, Saffron paused, asking, “Should I have told him about Eris Ermine and the letters? It could be important, and the inspector might not know about her involvement with Dr. Henry.”
“I can’t imagine that didn’t come up in his interviews with the other witnesses,” Alexander replied. “And it would necessitate you revealing you looked through Dr. Henry’s desk in addition to—”
Saffron was nearly knocked to the ground when a blur of a figure pushed into her. Alexander caught her arm and Harry Snyder, with pink cheeks and an overwrought expression, gasped, “Terribly sorry, Miss Everleigh.”
“Mr. Snyder? Whatever is the matter?” Saffron asked.
“Just was running to collect you,” Snyder said to Alexander, panting. “Dr. Henry has called a meeting of the expedition crew, and I have to gather everyone quickly.” He gulped and mopped his brow with his handkerchief, further mussing his black hair. “We’re meeting in South Quad Hall in the conference room on the third floor. Could you come now, please? The meeting is at two o’clock, and I’ve got six other people to find!”
Alexander quickly agreed and Snyder turned to leave.
“Mr. Snyder,” Saffron said sweetly, stalling his rushed departure, “I don’t mean to be intrusive, but would you like me to come and take notes for the meeting? I’m sure you usually are tasked with it, but why should you have to sit scribbling what everyone else says? I know you have so much to contribute.”
Snyder, clearly overwhelmed with the urgency of the meeting, merely stared at her for a moment before babbling, “Oh yes, Miss Everleigh, how kind of you. I usually do have to take notes during such meetings as Dr. Henry’s assistant, but it would be nice to be able to participate for once.”
Over his shoulder, Alexander smothered a smile and said, “Very well, Miss Everleigh and I will go to the hall and see you there. Third floor?”
They watched Snyder scamper off in the opposite direction.
“Well done,” said Alexander. “Poor man was completely taken in.”
“He actually rather reminded me of you,” Saffron replied lightly. They changed direction and headed toward the other side of the Quad. “I couldn’t just let you go without me. I’m dying of curiosity. What could be the emergency?”
Alexander shrugged as they continued, crossing onto the green. Alexander turned toward the administrative offices.
“I thought we were going to the hall?” Saffron asked, indicating the black door to the South Wing just a few feet away.
Alexander stopped in his tracks, looking as though he was confused that she was asking. Then he nodded. “Right.”
Saffron led them toward the South Wing, which they could pass through to get to the South Quad where the hall stood. When they entered the South Wing, a mirror image of its partner, with beige tiled floors and dark wood bordering whitewashed walls and tall windows, Saffron caught sight of lines of photographs along the walls. The weak sunlight of a gray midday glared off the glass frames, obscuring the faces Saffron knew were looking out solemnly from the dozens of photographs. Students, professors—those whom the Great War had taken from the university community.
A glance in her companion’s direction confirmed her suspicion. Alexander was looking determinedly ahead, with his mouth fixed in a tight line. Did he really completely avoid the South Wing’s main floor to stay away from the memorial? She went out of her way to pass by it, if only to catch a glimpse of her father’s blurry face in the middle, right at the top. But perhaps she, too, would avoid it if she’d fought alongside these men and lived like he had.
They emerged on the other side of the South Wing and into the South Quad. On the far side, the ramshackle carpenter’s shack, wreathed in a thick layer of sawdust, detracted from the pleasant view of the small green. University College was always in a state of improvement, with new properties on Gower Street and around it being bought up and adapted to academic uses all the time. It was easy for her to forget the constant expansion, being constantly cooped up in the North Wing, the library, or the greenhouses.