Leaving the college ball players to finish their game, Steve had headed up
to the Eastside of the Campus having decided on the chemistry department as
his first port of call. From the information they had collected so far,
interviewing Professor Maggie Taylor was his priority. An Australian who'd
lived in the US for almost ten years Taylor was, as Steve saw it,
Peterson's second in command. In her 40's and unmarried, it seemed she was
the consummate career woman. Apparently there were few women with
Professorships at UCLM or elsewhere, that Taylor had achieved one marked
her out as someone special.
Fighting his way through the crowds of students, Steve realised he'd run
straight into the lunchtime rush. 'Great' he thought to himself moodily,
in all likelihood Professor Taylor would be down in the cafeteria enjoying
her lunch and he'd have trudged all the way up here for nothing.
As he'd suspected her office was empty, but peering through a door to his
left he spotted a shock of unruly red hair, scraped back haphazardly into a
low ponytail. The woman, who was wearing a white lab coat, had her back to
him and was intensely preoccupied with something on the bench before her.
Taylor? Steve didn't think so, from his rather restricted vantage point he
couldn't be sure, but he sensed that this woman was too young to be the
Professor he was looking for.
Clearing his throat, Steve entered the lab. Before he'd taken more than
two steps, the woman turned, eyes blazing. He had only seconds to register
that this was a rather attractive girl in her twenties, not a mature woman
of forty, before she rounded on him angrily.
'Hey!' She reprimanded 'Can't anybody read in this country? It
specifically says on the door that when the red light is on, there's no
entry to the lab. These are delicate chemicals I'm working with here. The
room has to be kept at a constant temperature'.
Unperturbed Steve pulled out his badge 'Lieutenant Steve Sloan, L.A.P.D.'
he drawled 'And you would be?'
'Vicky Harris' she supplied, defiantly pushing back a stray curl 'I'm
Professor Peterson's Post Graduate student' she paused hesitantly before
adding 'or at least I was'.
Steve brightened, although there was no sign of Professor Taylor, he could
at least question the girl, thus salvaging some of his wasted time. 'Well
Miss Harris' he began authoritatively, 'I'm sorry to disrupt your work but
I need to ask you a couple of questions'.
'About Professor Peterson?' she queried
'That's right'. Steve confirmed.
Vicky wrinkled her nose 'I've already spoken to the police and told them
everything I know'.
'Well I'm afraid you're gonna have to go over it all again - with me' Steve
stated firmly, really not in the mood for an argument. He crossed his arms
and looked at her sternly 'We can do it here or I can take you down to the
station. It's up to you'.
Sensing his impatience, Vicky acquiesced 'Okay Lieutenant, I'm not sure
what good it'll do, but I'll answer your questions'.
'Now that's more like it' Steve applauded fishing his pen and note pad from
his jacket pocket.
'But can I just finish adding carbonic acid to these samples?' she added
hastily, refusing to be intimidated 'If I don't do it now the samples will
be ruined and my whole morning will have been wasted. Professor Taylor
won't be happy if the project falls even further behind'.
Rolling his eyes Steve dropped heavily on to a nearby lab stool - god these
academics were obsessed with their work. 'Go ahead' he sighed, knowing
from experience that he wouldn't gain her full attention until she had
dealt with the samples 'But don't take all day, its my time you're wasting
now'.
'Of course' she replied smiling at him thankfully before turning back to
her test tubes and pipette.
Fifteen minutes later and each sample had been methodically treated with
the carbonic solution. Vicky let out a sigh of relief, now she could relax
for an hour or so until the process had to be repeated. She smiled half-
heartedly 'relax' - who was she kidding? 'Relaxation' was hardly an
appropriate description for a police interrogation. She sighed wishing she
was anywhere but here, but there was no escape. From his attitude it was
obvious that Lieutenant Sloan's wasn't leaving until he got some answers.
'Okay, all done!' she called over her shoulder as she tidied away the used equipment. Receiving no response she looked round. The Detective had his head in his hands - 'god, was he asleep?' she wondered incredulously. She was tempted to leave him there in order to avoid the grilling, but knew it would only be postponing the inevitable. Every thing about Lieutenant Sloan suggested that he was a man on a mission. She got the distinct impression he wouldn't appreciate having to chase around after her. In his current mood, Vicky could quite easily imagine him hauling her down to the police station and throwing her in a cell for wasting police time. No, she decided firmly, it was best to get it over with. Besides facing things head on was much more her style than running away. Rather tentatively she leaned towards him 'Lieutenant?' she prompted loudly Steve jumped - God had he been asleep? 'Sorry', he muttered blushing slightly 'Must be the heat'. 'Yeah', Vicky agreed, rather amused at his obvious embarrassment and surprised that perhaps he was human after all 'It is pretty warm in here' she smiled. 'Actually' she admitted, 'that's one of the reasons I applied for the studentship. We don't get weather like this at home. The California sunshine and the chance to work with Professor Peterson - it was just too good to refuse'. 'And home is?' Steve asked, having tried and failed to place her accent. She definitely wasn't an American he decided. May be she was Australian like Taylor. 'Surrey' she replied, and at his puzzled expression continued helpfully 'London, England. I completed my undergraduate degree at Cambridge and then was offered the chance to begin my doctoral studies here in the states'. 'So Peterson is famous in England then?' Steve asked surprised. He knew Peterson was some big name Professor, he'd picked that up from the files, but the finer details of the workings of academic communities eluded him. His lack of knowledge, he thought wryly, put him at a distinct disadvantage given his present circumstances. 'That's what the book work is for', a little voice inside his head reminded him, but he quashed it and continued with the interrogation. Vicky looked at him in disbelief before continuing 'Of course he's famous in England Lieutenant, he was the leading light in the field. His research is world-renowned. In fact he was presenting at an International conference in Cairo just the other week'. 'Presenting on what exactly?' Steve queried, jotting down rough notes as she spoke. 'He is . was a world expert in organic spectometry' Vicky replied proudly. 'And in English that would be?' Steve asked dryly, raising an eyebrow. This time it was he who refused to be intimidated. He might not be an academic, but he wasn't gonna be thrown by long words, he'd heard enough of them from Amanda, Jesse and his Father over the years. 'Carbon dating' Vicky supplied. 'He was developing new techniques in classifying the age and density of organic and pre-organic compounds and formations'. 'And can you think of any reason why anyone would want to kill him?' Steve asked bluntly, deciding it was time to cut to the chase. The girl visibly flinched, but was able to continue 'Professor Peterson was a genius' she stated quietly 'I suppose people with his kind of talent are always going to have enemies.' 'Anyone in particular?' Steve asked. 'I really couldn't say' Vicky sighed ' It's just that there's a lot of professional jealousy in research Lieutenant. With work as big as the Professor's there's vast amounts of money and prestige involved. In academia it's publish or perish, and it's getting more and more competitive to secure funding' she sighed, 'without research studies to your name you're nobody. Professor Peterson's work was brilliant; other scholars would do anything to get their hands on his research notes'. 'Including murder?' Steve prompted 'I don't know' she replied hesitantly 'You're the detective, I'm just telling you what I think'. Steve tried a different track. Ms Harris certainly gave the impression of being helpful, but her responses weren't giving much away. He decided to try pushing her on a more personal level. He cleared his throat 'And what exactly was your relationship with the Professor Miss Harris?' he asked sternly, She blinked in surprise at the about turn, and the accusatory tone in his voice, before replying 'He was supervising my studentship'. 'Meaning?' Steve prompted, noting her discomfort. 'I was funded by some of his research money to do some work on the project, you know the donkey-work' she explained, indicating the row of test tubes. 'My reward is a PhD at the end of it' she sighed 'although that looks pretty unlikely now. I'm trying to carry on, but without Professor Peterson the project looks pretty doomed. The backers are getting nervous and I don't blame them. Professor Taylor is picking it up as best she can, but it feels like this project has been cursed from the start - we've had equipment failure, samples going missing and now this'. 'And where were you on the night he died?' Steve asked 'I went to see a film at the Realto' she sighed 'alone' she added anticipating his next question. Steve looked at her keenly 'Any way of proving that?' She hesitated 'Well I have my ticket stub' she replied 'Apart from that no, unless any of the staff remember me'. 'I'll be checking that out' Steve informed her. 'Besides you and the two Professors' he continued, 'is anyone else in the department working on the project?' 'Just Eric Scott' Vicky told him 'He's Taylor's grad student. He usually works in the lab down the hall, but I don't think you'll find him there today'. 'And why might that be?' Steve prompted, raising his eyebrows. 'Professor Taylor sent him to pick up some equipment we need for the second phase of the project' she explained 'I don't think he'll be back in today'. 'And what about the Professor herself?' Steve asked. 'She's working from home' Vicky replied 'with all the media interest in the murder, she found she couldn't get anything done from her office'. Steve sighed, he wasn't gonna get to Taylor as quickly as he'd hoped, but at least his visit hadn't been entirely useless. He pocketed his notebook and turned to the girl. 'Well thank you for your time Ms Harris' he said, handing her a card detailing contact numbers for the office and his cell 'Should you think of anything else give me a call'. He had one foot out the door when he turned 'One more thing Ms Harris' Vicky looked up expectantly 'Yes?' 'I don't suppose you have any information about Professor Summers?'. She swallowed hard 'I know what I read in the papers' she replied, before continuing hesitantly 'he . er wasn't in this department and it's a pretty big campus'. 'I noticed that' Steve sighed wearily as he left the lab and Vicky behind. He was still recovering from his earlier trip across campus - why were colleges always built on the top of hills he wondered? Ordinarily he would have relished the exertion, but today his usual energy had deserted him, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of fatigue. He hoped it was just the heat and his lack of sleep and not that he was coming down with something, he didn't have time to be sick right now. Pausing at the main door he checked his watch, it was a little after one. He knew he should call the station to check in, but he wasn't ready to go back to the office just yet. If he called, Tannis would suggest regrouping to discuss the information he'd gathered and to come up with their next move. They'd loose the rest of the day in paper work and he didn't have the patience for that right now. They had to keep moving, and the way he saw it they could move faster with him in the field. Archer was much better at the book work than he was, he thought, trying to ease his conscience. Besides, if she wanted him, she could get him on the cell. Since there were no other chemists available right now, he figured his best bet had to be the archaeology department. He could follow that up with a house call to Professor Taylor's and then head back to the station to check in with Tannis. She wouldn't be happy, but he was determined to do whatever it took to crack this case STAT. Satisfied with his plan he left the building, crossing his fingers that it wasn't a long walk to archaeology.
Once the detective had gone Vicky let out a long shuddering breath. She had no idea how she was gonna get through this. Signing up for a PhD in America had sounded like such an adventure, as well as a great career move - how had it all gone so wrong so quickly? She hadn't meant to fall for a married man, it was totally against everything she believed in, but as soon as she'd set eyes on the Professor common sense had gone out of the window. Within weeks they'd become lovers and in those snatched moments when she was with him, she'd thought her heart would burst with happiness. She knew that it was wrong, that she was wrong, but she couldn't help herself, she'd fallen for him hook, line and sinker. In those heady first few weeks, she'd let her imagination run wild, fantasising about the life they would have together once his divorce had come through. God she'd been naive - the pain of that last conversation when he'd told her it had to end had been unbearable. Resolutely she pulled a tissue from the pocket of her lab coat and wiped angrily at the tears that were threatening to escape. Purposely she busied herself with the test tubes before her. So far work had been her salvation. As long as she was working she could pretend everything was normal, but visits from the police like the one just now brought reality crashing back. 'Are you okay Vick?' Startled she turned to see John Anderson one of the porters. He was a well- built, athletic looking man in his late thirties, may be early forties. The two of them had become pretty friendly since she'd joined the research team. As a postgrad chemist she worked strange hours - John had been great at sorting out her access to the labs. She smiled faintly 'I'm fine John, just feeling the strain a bit, you know'. He nodded kindly 'Must be hard for you with Professor Peterson gone'. 'It is' she agreed, 'but I suppose we've just got to carry on as best we can'. 'That's right Vick' John smiled encouragingly, attempting to cheer her up 'British stiff upper lip and all that!' Vicky smiled ruefully - if he only knew.
'Okay, all done!' she called over her shoulder as she tidied away the used equipment. Receiving no response she looked round. The Detective had his head in his hands - 'god, was he asleep?' she wondered incredulously. She was tempted to leave him there in order to avoid the grilling, but knew it would only be postponing the inevitable. Every thing about Lieutenant Sloan suggested that he was a man on a mission. She got the distinct impression he wouldn't appreciate having to chase around after her. In his current mood, Vicky could quite easily imagine him hauling her down to the police station and throwing her in a cell for wasting police time. No, she decided firmly, it was best to get it over with. Besides facing things head on was much more her style than running away. Rather tentatively she leaned towards him 'Lieutenant?' she prompted loudly Steve jumped - God had he been asleep? 'Sorry', he muttered blushing slightly 'Must be the heat'. 'Yeah', Vicky agreed, rather amused at his obvious embarrassment and surprised that perhaps he was human after all 'It is pretty warm in here' she smiled. 'Actually' she admitted, 'that's one of the reasons I applied for the studentship. We don't get weather like this at home. The California sunshine and the chance to work with Professor Peterson - it was just too good to refuse'. 'And home is?' Steve asked, having tried and failed to place her accent. She definitely wasn't an American he decided. May be she was Australian like Taylor. 'Surrey' she replied, and at his puzzled expression continued helpfully 'London, England. I completed my undergraduate degree at Cambridge and then was offered the chance to begin my doctoral studies here in the states'. 'So Peterson is famous in England then?' Steve asked surprised. He knew Peterson was some big name Professor, he'd picked that up from the files, but the finer details of the workings of academic communities eluded him. His lack of knowledge, he thought wryly, put him at a distinct disadvantage given his present circumstances. 'That's what the book work is for', a little voice inside his head reminded him, but he quashed it and continued with the interrogation. Vicky looked at him in disbelief before continuing 'Of course he's famous in England Lieutenant, he was the leading light in the field. His research is world-renowned. In fact he was presenting at an International conference in Cairo just the other week'. 'Presenting on what exactly?' Steve queried, jotting down rough notes as she spoke. 'He is . was a world expert in organic spectometry' Vicky replied proudly. 'And in English that would be?' Steve asked dryly, raising an eyebrow. This time it was he who refused to be intimidated. He might not be an academic, but he wasn't gonna be thrown by long words, he'd heard enough of them from Amanda, Jesse and his Father over the years. 'Carbon dating' Vicky supplied. 'He was developing new techniques in classifying the age and density of organic and pre-organic compounds and formations'. 'And can you think of any reason why anyone would want to kill him?' Steve asked bluntly, deciding it was time to cut to the chase. The girl visibly flinched, but was able to continue 'Professor Peterson was a genius' she stated quietly 'I suppose people with his kind of talent are always going to have enemies.' 'Anyone in particular?' Steve asked. 'I really couldn't say' Vicky sighed ' It's just that there's a lot of professional jealousy in research Lieutenant. With work as big as the Professor's there's vast amounts of money and prestige involved. In academia it's publish or perish, and it's getting more and more competitive to secure funding' she sighed, 'without research studies to your name you're nobody. Professor Peterson's work was brilliant; other scholars would do anything to get their hands on his research notes'. 'Including murder?' Steve prompted 'I don't know' she replied hesitantly 'You're the detective, I'm just telling you what I think'. Steve tried a different track. Ms Harris certainly gave the impression of being helpful, but her responses weren't giving much away. He decided to try pushing her on a more personal level. He cleared his throat 'And what exactly was your relationship with the Professor Miss Harris?' he asked sternly, She blinked in surprise at the about turn, and the accusatory tone in his voice, before replying 'He was supervising my studentship'. 'Meaning?' Steve prompted, noting her discomfort. 'I was funded by some of his research money to do some work on the project, you know the donkey-work' she explained, indicating the row of test tubes. 'My reward is a PhD at the end of it' she sighed 'although that looks pretty unlikely now. I'm trying to carry on, but without Professor Peterson the project looks pretty doomed. The backers are getting nervous and I don't blame them. Professor Taylor is picking it up as best she can, but it feels like this project has been cursed from the start - we've had equipment failure, samples going missing and now this'. 'And where were you on the night he died?' Steve asked 'I went to see a film at the Realto' she sighed 'alone' she added anticipating his next question. Steve looked at her keenly 'Any way of proving that?' She hesitated 'Well I have my ticket stub' she replied 'Apart from that no, unless any of the staff remember me'. 'I'll be checking that out' Steve informed her. 'Besides you and the two Professors' he continued, 'is anyone else in the department working on the project?' 'Just Eric Scott' Vicky told him 'He's Taylor's grad student. He usually works in the lab down the hall, but I don't think you'll find him there today'. 'And why might that be?' Steve prompted, raising his eyebrows. 'Professor Taylor sent him to pick up some equipment we need for the second phase of the project' she explained 'I don't think he'll be back in today'. 'And what about the Professor herself?' Steve asked. 'She's working from home' Vicky replied 'with all the media interest in the murder, she found she couldn't get anything done from her office'. Steve sighed, he wasn't gonna get to Taylor as quickly as he'd hoped, but at least his visit hadn't been entirely useless. He pocketed his notebook and turned to the girl. 'Well thank you for your time Ms Harris' he said, handing her a card detailing contact numbers for the office and his cell 'Should you think of anything else give me a call'. He had one foot out the door when he turned 'One more thing Ms Harris' Vicky looked up expectantly 'Yes?' 'I don't suppose you have any information about Professor Summers?'. She swallowed hard 'I know what I read in the papers' she replied, before continuing hesitantly 'he . er wasn't in this department and it's a pretty big campus'. 'I noticed that' Steve sighed wearily as he left the lab and Vicky behind. He was still recovering from his earlier trip across campus - why were colleges always built on the top of hills he wondered? Ordinarily he would have relished the exertion, but today his usual energy had deserted him, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of fatigue. He hoped it was just the heat and his lack of sleep and not that he was coming down with something, he didn't have time to be sick right now. Pausing at the main door he checked his watch, it was a little after one. He knew he should call the station to check in, but he wasn't ready to go back to the office just yet. If he called, Tannis would suggest regrouping to discuss the information he'd gathered and to come up with their next move. They'd loose the rest of the day in paper work and he didn't have the patience for that right now. They had to keep moving, and the way he saw it they could move faster with him in the field. Archer was much better at the book work than he was, he thought, trying to ease his conscience. Besides, if she wanted him, she could get him on the cell. Since there were no other chemists available right now, he figured his best bet had to be the archaeology department. He could follow that up with a house call to Professor Taylor's and then head back to the station to check in with Tannis. She wouldn't be happy, but he was determined to do whatever it took to crack this case STAT. Satisfied with his plan he left the building, crossing his fingers that it wasn't a long walk to archaeology.
Once the detective had gone Vicky let out a long shuddering breath. She had no idea how she was gonna get through this. Signing up for a PhD in America had sounded like such an adventure, as well as a great career move - how had it all gone so wrong so quickly? She hadn't meant to fall for a married man, it was totally against everything she believed in, but as soon as she'd set eyes on the Professor common sense had gone out of the window. Within weeks they'd become lovers and in those snatched moments when she was with him, she'd thought her heart would burst with happiness. She knew that it was wrong, that she was wrong, but she couldn't help herself, she'd fallen for him hook, line and sinker. In those heady first few weeks, she'd let her imagination run wild, fantasising about the life they would have together once his divorce had come through. God she'd been naive - the pain of that last conversation when he'd told her it had to end had been unbearable. Resolutely she pulled a tissue from the pocket of her lab coat and wiped angrily at the tears that were threatening to escape. Purposely she busied herself with the test tubes before her. So far work had been her salvation. As long as she was working she could pretend everything was normal, but visits from the police like the one just now brought reality crashing back. 'Are you okay Vick?' Startled she turned to see John Anderson one of the porters. He was a well- built, athletic looking man in his late thirties, may be early forties. The two of them had become pretty friendly since she'd joined the research team. As a postgrad chemist she worked strange hours - John had been great at sorting out her access to the labs. She smiled faintly 'I'm fine John, just feeling the strain a bit, you know'. He nodded kindly 'Must be hard for you with Professor Peterson gone'. 'It is' she agreed, 'but I suppose we've just got to carry on as best we can'. 'That's right Vick' John smiled encouragingly, attempting to cheer her up 'British stiff upper lip and all that!' Vicky smiled ruefully - if he only knew.