The crystal crypt, p.24
The Crystal Crypt, page 24
“May I ask if June’s appointment to the position at the laboratory had anything to do with that?”
“Why ever do you ask that, Mr Rolandson?” asked Mrs Leighton as she joined her husband on the Chippendale clutching a leather briefcase.
“I’m not entirely sure, Mrs Leighton, but we – Miz Denby and I – are wondering why this was never mentioned at the outset of our investigation. Not by you, or by Professor Sinclair at the laboratory.”
“Why should it have been?” asked Mrs Leighton. “Miss Denby was only asking to do an article on June’s life and career. Besides, if you are inferring that June got that position due to anything more than her brilliant mind and peerless academic credentials, you are sorely mistaken!”
“I am suggesting nothing of the sort, Mrs Leighton. However, our investigation has unearthed that June might have been working on something connected to this diamond mine – and weapons manufacture – which, as I’m sure you know, would have gone against her pacifist beliefs.”
“Since when was June a pacifist?” asked Mr Leighton.
His wife looked at him and said, “Since she became involved with that Sanforth boy.”
Rollo’s ears pricked up. “You knew about June’s relationship with Edward Sanforth? Poppy – Miz Denby – told me that you didn’t know about their engagement.”
“They were not engaged!” snapped Mr Leighton. “Not properly. Edward Sanforth had not had the courtesy to ask my permission for her hand in marriage. And, sordidly, we only found out after our dear girl died. And we only have his word that she consented. For all we know he was a fantasist; June never even mentioned him to us.”
“Is that right, Mrs Leighton?” Mrs Leighton once again lowered her eyes.
“Partly, yes. And partly no.”
“Oh?” said Rollo. “Can you expand on that?”
The mother lowered her chin to her chest and took a great, shuddering breath. “June never mentioned Edward Sanforth. But our son, Larry, did.”
“Yes, I met your son the other day. He sold me a lovely necklace for my wife. What did your son say about Sanforth?”
Mr and Mrs Leighton looked at one another. Mrs Leighton nodded, and then Mr Leighton replied, “He said June had told him that Sanforth had been pursuing her. That she hadn’t been in the least interested in him. And that – that –”
Roger Leighton couldn’t finish his sentence. But his wife raised her head and said, “And that he forced himself on her. Against her will. Sadly, before we could speak to June, she died. Which, until now, we thought was a tragic accident.”
“Yes,” said Rollo, absorbing the news, as a few more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “It was tragic. But I do not believe it was an accident.”
CHAPTER 31
THURSDAY 23 APRIL 1925, OXFORD
Poppy and Ike stood on the doorstep facing Edward Sanforth.
“I apologize for my mother. She is a strong-willed woman and – not without some justification I’m afraid – holds the press in disdain. So best you leave; she won’t settle until you’re gone. But please, before you go, can you tell me where you got the information about June being with child?”
“It was in the pathologist’s report. We saw a copy of it this evening,” said Poppy. “Look, Edward, there’s quite a lot we’d like to talk to you about. We don’t want to upset your mother any more, but can you walk with us back to the hotel and we can talk on the way?”
Edward nodded, then looked over his shoulder and said, “Barnsley, tell Mrs Sanforth I’m walking Miss Denby and Mr Garfield back to their hotel. I shan’t be long. And get me my hat and coat.”
A few moments later, Edward, Poppy, and Ike were walking down the road, and none of them saw the flat-capped man step out of the shadows and knock on the door of the Sanforth townhouse.
“But why didn’t you tell me June’s father was in business with Sanforth Industries?”
“It never occurred to me to do so. We were talking about June’s experience at the laboratory and what she was working on. I’m not even clear what June’s father’s role was. I don’t have much to do with Sanforth Industries, just the Foundation. That’s the charitable wing,” he added, for Ike’s benefit.
“I’m aware of what the Foundation does, Mr Sanforth.”
“Please, call me Edward.”
“All right, Edward,” agreed Ike. “We suspect there is some kind of connection. June was X-raying a diamond when she died. And now we know that June’s father helped broker the purchase of a diamond mine in Africa. What do you know about that?”
“Very little. And I don’t think June did either. She and her father weren’t very close. If she did know, she didn’t mention it to me. And as for the diamond she was X-raying, as I told Poppy earlier, we might not know what that was about until we see her notes.”
“My boss in London is going to see June’s parents this evening,” said Poppy. “He’s going to ask them for the notes.”
“And he’s going to see someone else to try to find out more about the diamond mine and what – if anything – it has to do with work on explosives that the lab is involved in. Any idea?” probed Ike.
“I told you, no.”
Poppy was walking between the two men. Both of them were tall – over six feet – and she, at five feet five, felt a bit squashed between them. She was also aware of a growing tension. Ike, normally a very phlegmatic character, was becoming increasingly combative towards Edward. She was worried that Edward might take offence and leave – before she had an opportunity to ask the questions she wanted to ask.
“That’s all right, Edward, I’m sure you don’t know everything about your family’s business. I was just surprised when I found out that there was a connection between yours and June’s family – apart from your relationship. Which, golly, I’m so sorry about June and the baby. And I’m dreadfully sorry that we had to break the news to you in front of your mother – we didn’t know she was going to be there. But, with you going to New York tomorrow, I felt I had to mention it. May I be so bold as to ask if you knew?”
“I didn’t, know. I – I –” his voice cracked. “June had told me she needed to speak to me. About something important. But I was away that weekend. The weekend she died.”
“You were out of town?” asked Ike. “Poppy never mentioned that to me.”
Because I never thought to ask, thought Poppy, chastising herself.
“Yes, I went down to London on the Friday for the weekend. So, I couldn’t have killed her, if that’s what you’re asking.” Edward stopped walking and turned to face Ike over Poppy’s head.
“Can we confirm where you were?”
“You’re not the bloody police!”
“No, but the bloody police should have done their job and asked you!”
“Gentlemen, please!” Poppy raised her hands to keep the two men apart. “I think the question now is, did June’s killer know she was pregnant, and did that have any influence on her death?”
Edward took a step back. “June’s killer? Earlier today you said you had no proof that anyone had killed her, just that you suspected. But it could still turn out to have been an accident. Are you saying you now have proof that she was murdered? My God! What evidence do you have?”
Ike put his hands on Poppy’s shoulders and moved her aside so that she was no longer between him and Edward.
“There have been some developments since Poppy spoke to you at lunchtime, the first being that a second woman was attacked. This time, far more brutally.”
“My God! Who?”
“Sophie Blackburn.”
“The lab assistant?”
“Yes,” said Ike. “And Poppy found her. She had been – well – she had been violated. She was unconscious, and still is as far as we know. So, she cannot tell us who attacked her. But three things tie it in to June’s death. The first is that both Gertrude Fuller and Sophie Blackburn knew June, and both of them had been helping Poppy with her investigation. Secondly, the attacker had been searching through Sophie’s papers – just like he did with Gertrude Fuller – which suggests that he might have been looking for some papers, possibly of June’s. The third thing – and you’ll forgive me raising such an indelicate subject in the presence of a lady – is the sexual nature of the assault. Tell me, Sanforth, were you the father of June’s child?”
Edward, standing under a streetlight, looked stunned. “I – I – well, yes. I suppose that I am. June and I had been intimate on, well, on two occasions. We did not intend it to happen before we were married, but, well, you know how these things go sometimes…”
“Yes, Sanforth, I know how these things go.” Ike’s voice was cut through with disdain.
But there was something else bothering Poppy. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but something you said earlier today is troubling me, Edward. You told me Bill Raines had been inappropriate with June. That you had to warn him off. And after having the misfortune of sharing a dance with the man last night, I can believe that he might very well have been forceful with her. Is that what happened? Did Bill Raines force himself onto June, and if so, might the baby have been his?”
To Poppy’s absolute dismay, Edward Sanforth began to cry. It was nearly midnight before Poppy opened her hotel room door, took off her hat and coat, and flopped down onto her bed. She was exhausted. There were two notes slipped under her door. The first was a message from Rollo. “Mr Rolandson says to expect him tomorrow. He’s coming up from London and has the papers you requested. He says not to go anywhere without Mr Garfield.”
Oh goody, thought Poppy. That might shed some light on this muddle. But then she remembered she was planning to go down to London herself tomorrow, to see June’s parents. She’d better wait until Rollo arrived. How was he getting here? Train? The note didn’t say. Nor what time to expect him. She’d ring Mavis in the morning to see if she could give her some more information. And as for his admonition to not go anywhere without Ike… It’s not like Rollo to be a worrywart.
The second note was a telegram envelope addressed to her. She opened it and her heart leaped when she saw it was from Daniel.
DEAREST POPPY. HOPE ALL WELL. MISS YOU. COME HOME SOON. RING ME. MUST HEAR YOUR VOICE.
Poppy sniffed the paper, hoping to catch something of Daniel’s scent, even though she knew he would never have touched it. She kissed it and read it again before folding it back into its envelope and holding it to her heart as she lay back onto the bed. “I miss you too, my love,” she whispered. If it hadn’t been after midnight, she would have run downstairs and asked to use the hotel telephone. But that, like her call to the office, would have to wait.
Would she be able to “come home soon”? How much longer would she be away from him? She had arrived on Tuesday. It was now the early hours of Friday morning, and almost a week since that love-soaked day last Saturday when he had proposed to her in the Botanic Garden. She twirled the ring on her finger and allowed her thoughts to meander to Daniel’s kisses. Her body ached for him. She knew exactly what June and Edward had been through and how easy it would be to succumb to intimacy before the wedding.
Her heart sank when she thought of Edward. He had apologized for his tears, wiping them away with the back of his hand. Rather than being angry with her for suggesting that Bill Raines might have been the father of June’s child, he had admitted that it might be a possibility. He confessed that he had lied when he said he hadn’t known she was pregnant. She had told him a few days before she died. He said that, to his shame, instead of supporting her, he had asked the very same question: was Bill Raines the father? June had been appalled at the suggestion. She said that although Raines had been very overt in his overtures, she had resisted and there had been no sexual intercourse.
“But,” said Edward, “I was madly, and irrationally, consumed with jealousy. Raines had boasted to me that he and June had had a ‘roll in the sack’, as he put it. And that she had been a game girl about it.”
“He said she consented?” asked Ike.
“Yes. So I decked him.”
“Did you believe him?” asked Poppy.
“Not at first,” said Edward. “But then I began to doubt. And after June and I – well, after we were intimate – I began to wonder if it had really been her first time. I – and I don’t want to be too indelicate about this, Miss Denby – but I didn’t encounter what I expected, if you know what I mean.”
Poppy, who had been reading Marie Stopes’ Married Love, blushed. Edward was suggesting that June’s hymen had already been broken. That she wasn’t a virgin.
“I understand what you mean,” said Poppy quietly. “Tell us what happened then.”
“Then,” Edward continued, his voice thick with emotion, “then she told me she was pregnant, and I – well – I asked her if it was mine or his. She was appalled that I had even asked the question. We had an argument. I went away to London for a few days to calm down.”
“When was this?” asked Ike.
“The Friday before she died. I told the truth earlier when I said I wasn’t here. Perhaps… perhaps if I had been she wouldn’t have died.”
Poppy got up from the bed and started to undress. As she did, she thought through the convoluted path of the investigation. After Edward returned home, she and Ike had discussed the new information and agreed that they could not be sure that he had been telling them the entire truth. He had lied before. How could they be certain that he had in fact gone down to London and wasn’t in Oxford the day June died? They would need corroborating evidence of his alibi. Or the police would, if they were to reopen the investigation. Poppy toyed with the idea of going to see Chief Constable Fenchurch in the morning to tell him what she’d discovered. However, what would she say about how she knew about the pregnancy? Dr Mortimer hadn’t told her. She had seen it in a stolen pathologist’s report. Stolen by Rosie Winter. And she’d promised Rosie she would never tell where she got it. But Fenchurch would suspect. And no doubt demand she return the report. No, she couldn’t bring Fenchurch into this, not yet. She needed to get the report to June’s parents so that they could demand the investigation be reopened. Yes, that was still the way to proceed. She would wait for Rollo tomorrow, see what June’s papers had to reveal, then return with him to London.
She pulled her nightdress over her head, then sat down at the dressing table to brush her hair. The hairbrush had a beautiful mother of pearl inlay and had been a gift from her mother. She wondered what her mother would have done if June Leighton had come to her for help. Poppy’s mother had helped a number of young women who had become pregnant out of wedlock. But they had all been poor women from working-class families. June was the daughter of a wealthy jeweller, and engaged – if Edward were to be believed – to the heir of one of the world’s great fortunes. If Edward were to be believed…
Poppy’s instinct was that he was telling the truth. But how could she be sure? He hadn’t been fully truthful with her and had admitted that he had outright lied. Had he really been engaged to June? They only had his word for it. June hadn’t been wearing an engagement ring when she died, and they seemed to have kept it a secret from both sets of parents. Why? This had not been adequately explained. On the other hand, Sophie Blackburn had known about the engagement. She had said June had told her about it. But hadn’t Sophie said that the fiancé was from London? Well, Edward had said he had a flat there… Poppy wondered for a moment how Sophie was doing. She must drop by the hospital before going back up to London. Rollo would no doubt want to see Sophie, too. He had a soft spot for her and still blamed himself for Bert’s death. Poppy put down the hairbrush and said a prayer for both Sophie and Rollo. She asked too for God to guide her in the investigation, to find the truth about who killed June Leighton and attacked Sophie and Gertrude – and to stop him before he hurt anyone else.
After brushing her teeth and using the chamber pot, she climbed into bed. But sleep would not come. She now realized there were two main strands to the investigation which may or may not be related. Up until now she had considered that June’s death had something to do with her work. Her suspicion had been that June had discovered something in her experiments that one or more of the other scientists wanted to keep quiet. Or, that one or more of the other scientists were working on something illegal or unethical related to the research into explosives, and June had found out about it. Poppy believed she had been killed to keep her quiet. She also suspected it had something to do with Sanforth Industries and their ties to weapons manufacture. But exactly what and why was still unclear.
However, there was now another possibility. What if it had nothing to do with her work and was simply the tragic result of a lovers’ triangle? What if Bill Raines had killed her out of jealousy? Or to keep her from revealing that he had raped her? If in fact he had. Because there was still the outlying chance that she had in fact consented. And what if the baby was his? What if she was going to reveal that? Or perhaps the baby was the product of rape and June was too ashamed to admit it and was pretending – or just hoping – that it was Edward’s.
But there was another possibility – one that Poppy desperately hoped would not turn out to be true: what if Edward Sanforth had not left town on the Friday before June died? Or if he had, what if he had returned on the Sunday night and confronted June in the laboratory? He had said they’d rowed on the Friday. What if they’d rowed again on the Sunday? And in a jealous rage he had killed her and the unborn child?
Perhaps Edward’s sudden trip to New York was not being forced on him by his mother. Perhaps he realized that Poppy, Rollo, and Ike were getting close to the truth and he needed to get away. And perhaps his agreement to accompany them back to the hotel was not out of politeness but to find out how much they knew? How close they were to finding out the truth? And perhaps the lunchtime boat ride down the Cherwell had served the same purpose…
Poppy shivered and jumped out of bed, stumbling to the door to make sure it was locked. It was. But just in case, she pulled across a chair and lodged it under the door handle. If her thoughts about Edward were true, did that mean he had also attacked Gertrude and Sophie? He had been at the Balliol dinner. He could easily have followed Gertrude back to Somerville, knocked her out, and then gone to search her rooms. And then gone around the corner to Sophie’s flat. He had said he thought June’s papers had been sent to her parents. But those were her scientific papers. What if he was looking for something else? Something more personal. What if June had kept a diary, and in it she might have written about her pregnancy and who the father was. Either him or Bill Raines.
