Dying Fall Read Free

I said kindly.
    He nodded. Groom paused between landings and looked about him.
    â€˜There don’t seem to be many other people using these stairs,’ he said. ‘Any particular reason? Laziness apart, that is?’
    I looked round, guiding his eyes.
    â€˜You can see the only rooms on the landings are loos. There’s been a series of petty little – incidents, I suppose you people would call them. The last flasher who tried waving his silly little prick at me ended up in tears. And I got him thrown out of college. If not from a fifteenth-floor window.’
    â€˜Never thought of calling in your friendly neighbourhood constable?’
    â€˜Loads of times. But the college has its reputation to think of. Which makes me wonder how they’ll deal with this business.’
    It was fortunate that they wanted refreshment this week, not next. Soon the canteen would be commandeered to house a new suite for the administrators, and we would have either to share with the students – who emphatically did not want us – or to eat sandwiches in our offices. But management had statistics on their side: few people ever patronised the canteen anyway.
    â€˜Bit of a hole, isn’t it?’ said Ian, on cue, surveying through heavy breaths the cracked Rexine benches and cigarette-pitted floor.
    I nodded, but then concentrated on cajoling water out of Vesuvius, the ancient urn, into the thick green cups that Noah had used in the Ark. I threw some money into the empty honesty box, carried two of the cups to the table they’d chosen and went back to collect the third. A pallid sun had emerged and lit the men’s faces side on. Ian Dale, with his long, lined face, reminded me of Eyore, but Groom had little in common with Pooh apart from the colour of his hair. Even that was thinning. His complexion was a delicate pinky white that probably burnt to brick red in summer. Unlike Dale, who still wore that sports jacket, he looked very sleek in a suit, remarkably like one my last boyfriend paid an indecent amount for in the Aquascutum sale. It looked better on Groom, possibly because Kenji never made it above five foot six.
    â€˜Right,’ I said purposefully. ‘How can I help you? I only ask because I’m teaching GCSE English in thirteen minutes, and I have to make it to the fifteenth floor to collect the register and then get back to the eighth. I think I can deduce that you don’t need to be shown the scene of the crime –’
    Groom permitted himself a wispy smile. Dale jumped in. ‘Been reading too much Agatha Christie, eh? There was a whole team of people here overnight, dear, going over the place with a fine-tooth comb. SOCO s.’
    â€˜Scene of crime officers,’ said Groom quietly. ‘If you’re in a hurry, why don’t we get hold of Wajid’s file? We’ll come back to you if there’s anything we need to ask.’
    Presumably most of my colleagues were still stuck either in the queue to get in or in the foyer waiting for a lift. But Shahida was in the fifteenth-floor office, looking very much as though she shouldn’t be. When I introduced Groom and Dale, and explained why they were there, she forced a smile, then put her hand to her mouth and bolted.
    I stopped the men following her. Ian already had his mints at the ready, and Chris clutched something that looked incredibly like a bottle of smelling salts.
    â€˜The first time I went into a morgue,’ he said, ‘was to attend a postmortem. It’s part of everyone’s training. I fainted. Occasionally I still do. I must be the only serving officer to carry these.’
    â€˜I don’t think they’ll help Shahida. And she prefers people to ignore it. Morning sickness.’
    â€˜If she’s that bad, why doesn’t she take a sickie?’ asked Ian, still holding the mints.
    â€˜Because people don’t,’ I said, ‘take sickies. Not unless they have to.