Heads You Win

“Last Thursday evening,” said Sasha, “I attended a debate at the Union, and after I’d accompanied Mr. Anthony Barber to the University Arms, where he was staying overnight, I returned to my college just before eleven. I went down to breakfast around eight the following morning.”

“So none of the fingerprints we’ve found on the fire escape of Newnham College will match yours?” said Warwick, raising an eyebrow.

Sasha suddenly wished he’d obeyed Derek Matthews’s golden rule, and remained silent. He pursed his lips and said, “I have nothing more to say until I’ve spoken to a lawyer.”

Warwick closed his file. “In that case, Mr. Karpenko, I will require a set of your fingerprints before you leave. You will report back to this station with or without your lawyer at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Sasha was surprised when, after turning off the tape recorder, Warwick added, “That should give you more than enough time to sort this out.”

The next surprise came when Sasha left the interview room to find Dr. Streator sitting on the narrow wooden bench in the corridor waiting for him.

“Don’t say anything,” he said, “until we’re in my car.” He led his pupil out of the police station and across the road, where an ancient Volvo was parked. “Now,” he said, once Sasha had closed the passenger door, “tell me what this is about, and don’t spare me the gory details.”

Sasha had almost come to the end of his story by the time they reached the fellows’ car park at Trinity.

“Clearly the detective sergeant doesn’t believe a word of Miss Hunter’s story, otherwise he wouldn’t have released you. I suspect Miss Hunter spotted you climbing into Miss Dangerfield’s bedroom and saw an opportunity to derail your chances of becoming president of the Union,” Streator said, as they climbed the steps to his study.

“Could Fiona really be that ruthless?” said Sasha.

“Don’t think of her as Fiona, but as Sir Max Hunter’s daughter, and then you’ll know the answer to that question. But all is not lost. No doubt Miss Dangerfield will corroborate your story, which will make Miss Hunter look extremely foolish.” Streator was clearly enjoying the prospect.

“But I’ve already lied to Warwick in order to protect Charlie,” said Sasha. “Why would he believe me if I suddenly change my story?”

“He’ll be enough of a man of the world to understand why you did that,” said Streator as he opened his study door.

“But I don’t want Charlie to be rusticated, and unable to sit her exams.”

“I expect Fiona was well aware of that, but if you don’t tell Warwick the truth, it will be you who’s rusticated, which will mean Fiona Hunter will have knocked out her only rival for the presidency. And even when you’re eventually proved innocent, there will always be those who believe there’s no smoke without fire, especially if you’re considering a career in politics.”

“But I have to protect Charlie.”

“You say you left her room around five thirty?” said Streator, ignoring the comment. “And returned to college immediately?” Sasha nodded. “Did you see anyone you knew on the way?”

“No. There weren’t too many people around at that time in the morning.”

“Didn’t Mr. Perkins spot you when you sneaked back into college?”

“I’m afraid not. He was fast asleep, which I was pleased about at the time.”

“Was he indeed?” The phone on Streator’s desk began to ring. He picked it up and listened for a few moments before saying, “It’s Perkins. He says he needs to have a word with you.”

Sasha grabbed the phone as if it were a lifeline.

“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Karpenko,” said Perkins. “But your mother has just called and says she needs to speak to you urgently.”

*   *   *

“It’s all over the Union,” said Ben, as he sat down on the end of the bed in Sasha’s study.

“Don’t spare me.”

“You were arrested during a supervision this morning, handcuffed, dragged out of Dr. Streator’s study, thrown into the back of a police car, driven to the nearest nick, charged with breaking and entering a female undergraduate’s room and stealing a confidential file, and left to rot in a prison cell while you await trial.”

“Then this must be the cell,” said Sasha.

“Fair point. Which is why we need to go straight to the Union and be seen having a pint at the bar together, looking as if you haven’t got a care in the world.”

“I don’t think that will be possible.”

“It has to be if you’re going to have any chance of becoming president of the Union.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sasha, “but I have to go to London. My mother needs to see me urgently.”

“What could possibly be more urgent than gathering evidence to prove you’re innocent of any charge?”

“I don’t even know what the problem is,” admitted Sasha, “but the last time my mother used the word ‘urgent’ was when Mr. Moretti died.”

“Then at least let me tell Charlie what’s happened, so we can expose Fiona for what she is and clear your name.”

“Now listen carefully, Ben. You are not to go anywhere near Charlie, unless you want to find out just how close that KGB officer got to having his throat cut.”