Keep Her Close. M.J. Ford

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Название Keep Her Close
Автор произведения M.J. Ford
Жанр Зарубежные детективы
Серия
Издательство Зарубежные детективы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008293789



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      ‘Any idea why she doesn’t use his surname?’

      ‘Oh, Malin isn’t Mr Cranleigh’s biological daughter,’ said Frampton-Keys.

      ‘So who’s her real father?’ asked Jo. She foresaw a headache already. They really shouldn’t have been involving anyone but close family about the disappearance.

      Frampton-Keys looked bemused. ‘I’m sorry – I don’t feel it’s my place to talk about other people’s private affairs. Her mother lives in Sweden, I believe.’

      ‘Can we follow up on that, Jack?’ Jo said. She faced the Vice Provost again.

      ‘We’d like to talk with the friend who came to see her, if that’s all right?’

      ‘Anna Mull?’ said Frampton-Keys. ‘She’s in the buttery.’

      ‘Which is what? And where?’ asked Jo. She was trying her best not to dislike the Vice Provost, but every sentence the senior academic uttered seemed designed to confound her and present the clear subtext: This is not your place.

      ‘This way,’ said Frampton-Keys.

      They walked back towards the main quad. As they did, Jo asked, ‘Apart from the fire exit in the corridor, what are the other ways out of the college?’

      ‘There’s a door out onto Oriel Street,’ said Frampton-Keys. ‘You need a security card to access it – all the students at the college have one.’

      ‘And staff?’

      The Vice Provost nodded. ‘Yes, but I’m not sure what you’re getting at.’

      ‘Not getting at anything,’ said Jo. ‘But if someone took Malin from her room, they had to get into the college and out again. Are there cameras on the security door?’

      ‘I’m afraid not. We have a surveillance system at the front of the college, covering the porters’ lodge, but that’s it. Sorry, you think she’s been kidnapped?’

      ‘It’s a possibility.’

      They took a passage past an open door leading into kitchens. A young man wearing whites, with heavily tattooed forearms was unloading pallets of bread and nodded a greeting as they passed, and there were catering staff at work inside.

      ‘I thought the students had gone home,’ said Pryce.

      ‘We’ve got a three-day conference coming in later,’ said Frampton-Keys. ‘Ornithologists. We can’t afford to let the college go empty out of term.’

      She turned a sharp right angle, then pushed open a heavy, metal-studded door into a cosy wooden-clad room of benches and tables, with a small hatch counter. A young woman with a short, dark pixie-cut and delicate features to match was sitting next to an empty mug and several screwed-up tissues, hands toying with her phone. She stood up sharply. She was wearing jeans, a thick sweater, and what looked like trail shoes. Sensible, in the current weather.

      ‘Have you found her?’ she asked meekly.

      ‘Not yet,’ said the Vice Provost. ‘Anna, these visitors are police officers. They need to talk to you.’

      Anna looked scared. Her already large, almond-shaped eyes opened wider, and she gave a single nod.

      Jo introduced herself and Pryce, then sat down opposite the student. Frampton-Keys was still standing off to one side.

      ‘Perhaps we could have some privacy?’ asked Jo.

      The Vice Provost frowned. ‘I really should be here,’ she said. ‘It’s a student welfare issue.’

      Jo smiled tightly. ‘It’s an active police investigation. Anna’s an adult, and we’re only asking a few questions.’

      Frampton-Keys’ mouth twitched. ‘Very well. Is that all right with you, Anna? You don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to.’

      Jo was close to losing her temper, but Anna said, ‘Yes,’ quietly, and the Vice Provost turned on her heels and left.

      ‘Thanks for your time, Anna,’ she said. ‘How long have you known Malin?’

      Anna looked up. ‘Over three years. We matriculated together, chose to do our MPhil’s here too. We’re the only two doing a History Master’s at Oriel.’

      Jo’s ears pricked up. She studied History as an undergrad at Sussex, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

      ‘So you’re close?’ asked Pryce.

      ‘I’m probably her best friend,’ said Anna. She didn’t elaborate, so Jo decided to get straight to the point.

      ‘It looks like she might have had a fight with someone in her room. Have you any idea who that might be?’

      Anna didn’t answer straight away. ‘No.’

      ‘No enemies?’

      Anna smiled. ‘Everyone loved Malin.’

      ‘What about a boyfriend?’

      ‘Nothing serious.’

      ‘But she had relationships?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And recently?’

      Anna shot a look towards the door, as if she thought someone was on the other side. ‘Ross,’ she said. ‘Ross Catskill.’

      ‘Is he a student at the college?’

      Anna laughed, a low chuckle. ‘I doubt Ross even has any GCSEs. Sorry, that sounds awful, doesn’t it? He runs an events company in Oxford – Calibre.’

      ‘So Malin was seeing Catskill,’ said Pryce. ‘What was the relationship like?’

      ‘Just an on-off thing,’ said Anna. ‘I don’t know what she saw in him. I mean, I guess he’s sort of good-looking, but that’s about it.’

      ‘You don’t like him much, then?’ said Pryce. ‘Do you think he might have hurt Malin?’ Anna stared down at her hands, and a few seconds of silence followed.

      ‘Anna?’ said Pryce. ‘Did you hear the question?’

      Anna looked up, at him, directly. ‘You know when you just get a bad feeling about someone?’

      Pryce nodded. ‘All the time.’ He turned to Jo. ‘Sounds like we should pay Mr Catskill a visit. Anna, when did you last have contact with Malin?’

      ‘Last night,’ said Anna. ‘We went for a drink. I left her about 9.50 pm.’

      ‘That’s very accurate,’ said Pryce.

      ‘I wanted to watch the ten o’clock news back in my room,’ said Anna.

      ‘Just the two of you met up?’ asked Jo.

      Anna nodded. ‘The King’s Arms. We’d been in the Bodleian Library all day working. We had a meal at the pub too.’

      ‘Can you remember the top story on the news?’ asked Jo’s colleague.

      He asked it in an innocent enough tone, but Anna clearly caught the shift of emphasis in the conversation, and Jo saw something flintier in her gaze as she addressed Pryce.

      ‘The thing with the royal press secretary leak,’ she said. ‘Then interest rates. I’m afraid I can’t remember much else. I was tired.’

      ‘And nothing from Malin after 9.50?’ said Jo.

      ‘No. I went to sleep.’

      ‘And where’s your room?’

      ‘I live out now. Shared house on Longwall Street.’

      ‘But not with your best friend?’ asked Pryce.

      Anna blushed. ‘Her mum wanted her in the college,