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By Root 525 0

understand Liddicote’s stance; they had both worked hard to underscore the integrity of the college so that the institution would be accepted as equal by the established colleges of the university. The debate represented the pinnacle of success Roth had worked towards, and would bring students together from so many countries—something he had set out to do since the war, when the book written by Liddicote had infused him with a desire to change the world of death he saw about him. He had gone to Liddicote’s office at a fateful moment and overheard the heated argument between Headley and Liddicote. Roth understood, upon listening to the none-too-quiet voice of Dunstan Headley, that Liddicote had taken the work of another—and done so for reasons of vanity and greed. Roth was beside himself with disappointment and grief—as Maisie had said to Daniel, his hero had revealed himself to have feet of clay. As soon as he heard Dunstan Headley depart by the open French doors, he entered the room and took leave of his temper.

Maisie suspected that as Dunstan Headley left his office, Liddicote had taken the photograph of Ursula Thurlow in his hand. With his thoughts on the woman who had given him so much, whom he had betrayed—and most likely, whom he had loved—Liddicote was overpowered by Roth; he was, after all, hard of hearing and likely unaware his assailant had entered. Roth had simply taken Liddicote’s head in his hands and twisted his neck, killing him in an instant. Then he had left the room and began weaving a web of lies when he returned again, after the body had been discovered, to ask the college secretary known as Rosemary Linden whether Dr. Liddicote could see him. Maisie wondered if, at that point, Roth had not quite believed he had taken Liddicote’s life, and simply wanted to see if it had all been a waking nightmare. She shook her head as it occurred to her that, if they were in France, the case of Matthias Roth would be tried as a crime passionnel—a crime of passion.

She realized that she had stopped walking. It was dusk, but as she turned to leave, she looked down at the words carved on a stone placed adjacent to the path. Kneeling, she ran her fingers across each letter, until she could read aloud the lines:

. . . where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy . . .

Maisie did not return to London immediately, as instructed by MacFarlane. Instead, she telephoned Huntley at the number he had given her during their meeting at Scotland Yard. After engaging in another scripted conversation she had been charged with learning by heart—about the weather and a fictional Mrs. Smith’s ill health—she was put through to the man who expected her report.

“I thought I would remain here to take my classes this week and come back to London on Friday. The students are all a bit shaky after losing Liddicote and now Roth, and I feel I can be of service to them. Alan Burnham has taken over as principal, so I am sure things will soon be on an even keel, but nevertheless, I wanted to stay.”

“Right you are, Miss Dobbs. In any case, despite the fact that our friends at Scotland Yard have found their man, your work continues; I wanted a report in the wake of the arrest.”

“We’ll see what happens. The debate may well have caused feathers to be ruffled—I have an idea that Dunstan Headley might have his son removed from the influence of Delphine Lang, though I would say that wherever that young man goes, he will fall under the spell of someone who has a way with words. He’s looking for an anchor, and political groups offer that sense of belonging, don’t they?”

“But we’re really not too worried about the Nazis, as I said—though I know you disagree.”

Maisie shook her head. “I know why you wanted me here, Mr. Huntley, and what I have to say bears repeating. Young people are always looking for that something new, aren’t they? They are seeking passion in all quarters, and they are ripe for infiltration—and bearing in mind that many of those young people in a place such as Cambridge, or a college like St. Francis, are related