‘I need to ask you a few questions,’ said Warwick, switching on a tape recorder by his side. ‘A serious allegation has been made against you, but I want to hear your side of the story before I decide how to proceed.’
The one thing Sasha did remember from Harry Clifton novels was that Derek Matthews, the bent barrister whose regular clients were all too familiar with this predicament, always instructed them to say nothing until he arrived. But Sasha wasn’t a criminal, and he had nothing to hide. He waited impatiently to discover what the ‘serious allegation’ was, aware that by withholding that vital piece of information, the detective was trying to make him feel uneasy and nervous. He was succeeding.
‘A Miss Fiona Hunter,’ said Warwick eventually, ‘has made a statement that on Thursday, November the sixteenth – last Thursday – you climbed the fire escape outside her room in Newnham College around ten o’ clock, entered her study on the third floor and stole a confidential file.’ He stared directly at Sasha. ‘What do you have to say about this accusation?’
‘What’s in the file?’ said Sasha.
The detective ignored the question. ‘Miss Hunter claims that she has proof you entered the country illegally after escaping from prison, having murdered a police officer.’
‘I did escape,’ said Sasha, ‘from the biggest prison on earth. I didn’t murder the KGB officer, but only wish I had.’
‘That may all be true, Mr Karpenko, but as Miss Hunter has made such a serious accusation, we are bound to follow it up. So to start with, where were you on Thursday evening around ten o’clock?’
Sasha knew exactly where he’d been on Thursday night. After attending a debate in the Union, he’d accompanied Charlie back to Newnham, and while she’d entered the college by the front door and gone straight up to her room, he’d made his way around to the back of the building, climbed the fire escape to the second floor and spent the night with her.
He had woken just before five the following morning, and after they had made love again, he had got dressed, climbed down the fire escape, and walked back to Trinity. He was in his room just before six, and spent the next couple of hours working on an essay that needed to be polished in time for his morning tutorial.
The only problem with Sasha’s cast-iron alibi was that if Charlie was to confirm his story, under Newnham College regulations she would automatically be rusticated, and sent home for the rest of term, making it impossible for her to sit her finals until a full investigation had been carried out, which was bound to conclude that she had indeed broken the rules. Not least because Fiona would be happy to report what she had seen, should her other ruse fail.
‘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.’
Ben froze, and it was some time before he managed, ‘Just be sure you’re back by nine tomorrow, because you can’t afford to miss your appointment with Sergeant Warwick. Otherwise you could be the first president of the Union to be elected while in prison.’