Chapter 26

Their rescheduled lunch had turned into a regular thing. At least once a week, they had lunch together. James was never invited and, to his knowledge, James wasn't even aware.

He was happy to keep it that way. The fewer prying eyes, the better he thought. Even Val had been conspicuously quiet on the topic. He knew she knew the days he had lunch with Laura because on those days, she made a point of rambling about the kids.

It was endearing the way she pointedly didn't discuss Laura. He felt certain if he brought it up she would be happy to talk about it but since her confession, they'd each avoided the subject. Last night, she'd watched him cook a quick meal then had suggested it was time for him to smarten up his flat.

He'd balked at the idea at the time. But, now, looking around the flat, he had to admit she was right. It was frighteningly utilitarian. More reflective of a curmudgeonly widower than a man who wanted someone alive in his life.

Her phone started ringing as she inserted the key in the lock. Arms full, she cursed as she tried to balance it all to answer the call.

"Hobson."

"Have I done something to upset you?"

"Who is this?"

"Sorry, Dr. Hobson, it's Alan Peterson."

"I'm sorry, Inspector. How can I help you?"

"Please, call me Alan."

She pushed the door open with her hip, then dropped the things she was carrying on a table by the door. "OK, Alan, how can I help you?"

"I have tickets to a lecture on Sunday. It's a criminology lecture. I thought it might be a good time for us to get to know each other. Seeing as we will be working together."

Pausing, she thought about her calendar. She didn't have plans, had hoped Robbie would ask her to brunch, add one more regular event to their calendars. But it was unlikely at this late date he would ask. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "That seems like a good idea. If you want to text me the details, I can meet you there."

"I could pick you up, if you like."

"Sure, why not? I'll text you my address."

"Perfect, I can pick you up at two. The lecture starts at three. That will give us time to grab a drink beforehand. Share war stories."

"OK, I'll see you then, Alan."

Ending the call, she texted him her address while it was on her mind. Then she added the event to her calendar. Twenty minutes later, she was changed, dinner was on to cook, and she was relaxing with a glass of wine.

She could hear her phone ringing and had to think about where it was. Remembering the call from Alan Peterson, she found it on the table by her front door. The display showed Robbie's name and a photo of him she'd snapped surreptitiously one day at lunch.

"Robbie, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? I'm not on call and I don't believe you are either."

"Does there have to be a murder for me to call?"

Smiling at his teasing, "You can call me anytime you like, Robbie."

"I do have a specific reason for calling though."

Taking a sip from her wine glass, "And, what would that be?"

"I need a favor."

"A favor? That's going to cost you."

His laughter rippled through the phone. "Usual rates, lunch before and I will throw in a home-cooked meal afterwards."

"Are you asking me to help you hide a body, Robbie?"

"What?"

"Those are awfully high rates you are offering. Two meals, one of them cooked by you."

"Well, you've never tried my cooking. You might be the body I need to hide."

It was her turn to laugh, "Well that would make you a poor detective if you killed the pathologist who was supposed to be helping you."

"Nah, I'd pick your brains before I killed you."

"So what do I have to do to earn not one but two meals?"

"I want to freshen up my flat. Since it's in the shape it is now because of me. I thought it might be nice to have a feminine touch."

She inhaled deeply, hoping he hadn't heard it. "I'd be happy to help. When?"

"I was thinking on Sunday?"

Cursing to herself, she regretted telling Peterson yes. Briefly thought of cancelling but she did have to work with the man. Best to get getting to know him out of the way.

"I'm sorry, Robbie. I have plans. I could do one day next week or next Sunday."

There was a lengthy pause, then finally. "Of course, I shouldn't have asked so late."

It broke her heart to hear his glum response, "I really do want to help, Robbie. Pick a day next week."

"You don't have to, Laura."

"Robbie, if I didn't want to, I wouldn't. I really do have plans. Funnily enough, I just made them about half an hour ago."

"A day late and a dollar short. Let's talk about it over lunch next week."

"Sounds like a plan. See you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it."

He knocked on her door precisely at two. She was ready, didn't bother to invite him in. What, at first, had seemed like a good way to get to know a colleague had now become an annoyance. She would much rather be shopping with Robbie than out for a work event with Alan Peterson.

The man was rather like an eager puppy and she had an overwhelming desire to whack him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. He talked incessantly on the short drive to the college. Then as they had drinks, he continued the monologue about his life. At no point, had he once asked her a question, expressed any interest in her. This was a decidedly one-way affair.

As they crossed the street, his hand found the small of her back and didn't leave once they were safely across the road. It was the first moment, she wondered if he considered this a date. It had taken everything in her not to burst into laughter. It made the whole thing even more annoying. She was attending a work event with a man who thought this was a great date opportunity and it was keeping her from an afternoon and evening with someone she wanted to spend time with.

Robbie gazed around the room as Laura broke down the scene for him.

"So what I know is he's a visiting academic by the named Paul Yelland. Post mortem will confirm that, as I suspect, cause of death will be strangulation." Pointing at the deceased, "He was in Oxford at the invitation of the department of criminology to give a public talk." She paused for a moment, "I was there actually."

Robbie turned to look at her, so this man's lecture had been her plans, "How come?"

Laura shook her head, "A friend saw an article in the local paper and thought it might be interesting."

"And was it?"

"No, but the speaker deserves to be strangled, would be, in my opinion, a harsh review." She smiled at Robbie.

He smiled back at her, "Any sense at this talk that he was anxious?"

Laura shook her head, "This wasn't suicide. The door was forced from the outside."

James walked across the room, to examine the door, "If he'd forgotten his key and then forced the door in desperation to get in?"

Laura shook her head, "The key was in his jacket pocket." James nodded to her. "You can do this to yourself." She motioned to her neck, "Apply enough pressure to the carotid bulbs and eventually your heart will stop. But the extent of the bruising around his neck suggests he struggled hard to stay alive." She reached for his hands. "And look at this."

Robbie leaned forward, "Ahh right, he managed to get his fingers behind the ligament. But then the killer was too strong."

James watched the two of them oddly, wondered about the state of their relationship briefly. "What was this talk about?"

Laura looked up at him, "A potentially new approach to criminal dangerousness."

Robbie looked at the dead man, "Well right now he must be the worlds' leading expert."

A small smile, played across her lips at his joke, "PM at four. I'll see you there."

"Wouldn't miss it, Dr. Hobson."

Robbie and James stood at the door of Innocent's office. Peering into the office, Robbie groaned before turning to James. "Oh look, its action man." They entered her office and Robbie acknowledged action man. "Peterson."

Peterson smiled, "Boys."

"Ma'am." Robbie said as he and James sat.

Jean took a deep breath. "DI Peterson and his unit have been tracking local extremists so he may have valuable information for the investigation."

Peterson shifted in his seat and looked at the boys. "We've been monitoring her anti-racist group that interrupted Yelland's talk. Myra Barnet, thick head, old school, hard core…"

James interrupted with a smirk. "Any other clichés…" Jean gaped at him.

Peterson continued. "We thought they were pretty harmless until now but we still don't have anything concrete to pin on them."

Jean cut her eyes at James. "Needless to say, the Vice Chancellor was on the phone within minutes. A guest of the university murdered on university premises after giving a talk whereby all accounts university staff and a student tore him apart. The PR consequences are obviously horrendous."

James crossed his legs. "I phoned the paper, they're running the headline. 'Lynched!'" Jean rolled her eyes.

Peterson interjected. "Well from what I saw he wouldn't have required much lynching."

Robbie and James both looked at him. "What you were at his talk?"

"Yeah, with Dr. Hobson." Peterson added. "I was just keeping an eye on things."

Jean added. "The university wants this wrapped up quickly and so do I. The director of the department of criminology called me personally to request some protection for Professor Yelland during his stay and I turned it down as I thought it was unnecessary."

Peterson interjected. "On advice from us. You see our intelligence said that no one had the slightest interest in targeting Yelland."

Robbie looked at James, "Couldn't have gotten that more wrong." Jean glared at him.

Ignoring the edge in Robbie's voice, Peterson continued, "That's why we think the motive was personal rather than professional."

James was smirking at Peterson, Robbie was looking anywhere but Peterson and Peterson was looking rather pleased with himself. Jean felt the need to bring this to a close. "Liaise with one another and find out who did this quickly."

All three men answered. "Yes ma'am." They remained seated in their chairs.

Jean looked at them. "Why are you sitting there looking at me likes dogs being shown a card trick?"

All three men stood. Robbie and Peterson turned into one another. The older man pushed forward and walked out first closely followed by James.

Robbie stared down at the body of Paul Yelland, "Strangled by his own tie?"

Laura smiled over at him. "An advert for dress down Friday if ever there was one. I can confirm cause of death was asphyxiation due to strangulation. He was two and a half times over the limit when he died with the sleeping drug Zolpidem in his system. Toxicology puts ingestion around the time he was giving his talk or just after."

Robbie nodded, "Enough to make him more compliant to kill."

Laura nodded, "Any amount would have that effect. This particular brand activates relatively slowly. But it would have synergized with the alcohol to speed up the conking out process."

He looked at her with a half-smile, "The conking out process being?"

She smirked at him flirtatiously, "An internationally recognized medical term." He smiled at her and nodded. She turned to the lab assistant. "Anne-Marie," she said as she pointed at the chart. She took the chart from Anne-Marie and handed it to Robbie.

"Is that it?"

She raised her eyebrows. "I've pushed your boat out into open water Robbie. Get rowing."

He rubbed at his jaw as he walked away. "You wouldn't have anything for a bad tooth in here would you?"

"I can take it out for you if you like." He raised his eyebrows debating the sincerity of her statement. Laura smiled at him, "Of course, you'd have to be dead first." They smirked at one another then Robbie turned to leave. Laura called after him, "You should have that took looked at."

Waving over his shoulder, "Just as soon as I'm dead, you can take a look at it."

Robbie entered the lab where Laura was working. Her soft smile didn't put him at ease. He knew he would pay for messing things up with her dentist. It was akin to waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She pulled up the results she wanted him to see when the door opened. It was Alan Peterson, the last person he wanted to see. The younger man eyed him awkwardly before turning his attention to Laura.

He handed her the file he was carrying, "Thanks Laura."

She smiled tightly at him as she took the file, "No problem."

"Speak later." She nodded at him, an odd expression on her face.

Robbie stared at her not understanding her reaction to Peterson. "He came to discuss some forensic results." Robbie nodded skeptically. "And to invite me to dinner."

Robbie took a deep breath trying to process her words as he stared at the screen behind her. "Ah, right. When?"

She tilted her head, "Never. Not my type."

Robbie stared at her feeling slightly foolish as she smiled at him. He pointed at the screen trying to bring the attention back to the case. She hadn't been on a date. He listened to her talk, only taking in half of what she said.

As he made to leave, he turned back to her, "Sorry about your dentist."

She smiled at him, shrugging, "Forgiven."

He was just about to close the door when he heard her call his name. "Robbie, it wasn't a date. At least not on my part. I would have much preferred an afternoon spent with you."

Robbie and James stood by their cars watching the two suspects being placed into cars and driven away. The evidence Laura had shown him had proven to be what they needed to solve the case. He chuckled to himself and the inhale caused him to moan in pain. "Ow, damn it."

James watched him rub at the sore tooth. "You know Lipton reminds me of you." Robbie looked at him quizzically and James continued, "Stubborn, stuck in the past."

"Come again?"

"He allowed his life to be marred by an experience forty years ago. And you are allowing yours to be marred by a dental appointment in 1992."

Robbie rubbed his cheek, willing the pain away, "Hardly comparable."

James took a card from his pocket, "Well, I've booked you an appointment with my dentist. Tomorrow morning, she's opening up early especially. I'll pick you up at eight."

"I'll be going for a jog at eight."

James turned back and pointed at him, "You don't jog."

"I just started. You fancy a pint later? Big match, stupid sized telly in a sweaty pub."

James shook his head, "I've got a book to finish."

"Have you learned nothing from this case? Books are bad for your health."

James shook his head, "Not if you just read them. Why don't you invite Dr. Hobson? Get in there quickly before someone whisks her away."

Robbie took a deep breath, "You said it yourself. Stuck in the past, me." James smiled at him before getting in his car and leaving.

Making sure James was out of sight, he pulled out his phone. He pressed the single button that connected him to her. She answered on the first ring. "Dr. Hobson, how do you fancy a pint later? I'll even throw in a stupid sized telly in a sweaty pub."