Murder in the Museum

Chapter Nine

By the time Jude returned from High Tor to Woodside Cottage that evening, a second bottle of white wine had been consumed and the fence had been, if not fully mended, at least temporarily repaired. She felt sorry for Carole, whose reticent personality was always going to require much bridge-building and fence-mending. There was no element of superiority in her pity. Jude just felt blessed to have been born with a more direct approach to life; the differences between them had never, from her point of view, offered any threat to their friendship.

Amidst the draped and cluttered chaos of her sitting room the red light of the answering machine blinked. There were two messages.

‘Hello. Voice from the past. It’s Laurence. Love to talk to you. Love to meet, come to that. I’ve actually come sufficiently into the twenty-first century to get myself a mobile. Let me give you the number.’

She felt a remembered warmth as she wrote it down. A few of Jude’s affairs had ended in ‘I never want to see you again!’ acrimony, but she was still in occasional touch with most of her lovers, and her recollections of Laurence Hawker were almost entirely benign. She wondered if he was still an academic, still researching in the English Department at the university in Prague, still as irresistibly attracted to all those stunningly beautiful Czech girl students. But for that predilection of his, and the way it encroached on their time together, Jude’s relationship with Laurence would have been near perfect. Be good to see him again.

The second message was from Sandy Fairbarns. ‘Need to talk to you urgently, Jude. If you can get back to me tonight before twelve, be great. If not, at Austen in the morning, as soon after nine as possible.’

It was two minutes before midnight. Jude keyed in the mobile number. Sandy sounded as bright and enthusiastic as ever. Loud music sounded in the background, but it wasn’t referred to. Sandy’s private life remained private.

‘Jude, thank you so much for getting back to me. It’s about Mervyn.’

‘Anything wrong with him?’

‘I don’t know. He never did talk to me.’

‘He’s back at Austen?’

‘Yes.’

‘Any charges?’

‘I don’t know. Basically, Jude, I want you to see him.’

‘But I’m not scheduled to do another session till—’

‘I know. I’m suggesting you come and visit him. If I get it to the Governor first thing in the morning, I can get a VO for you for tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Sorry? VO?’

‘Visiting Order. Can you do tomorrow?’

‘Sure.’

‘Good. Because Mervyn seemed to respond in your sessions. I think he might open up to you.’

‘I’ll do my best. But what’s his problem?’

‘I don’t know, Jude. But I’m worried about him.’