Doctor Who_ The Banquo Legacy - Andy Lane [10]
‘No, sir, suicide.’ We turned right again by an ivy-covered wall.
‘Suicide?’ his voice was faint. I turned to find he had turned off towards a doorway on the left.
‘Yes, suicide,’ I said following him. The doorway led through to a smaller quadrangle, with an irregular wall on the right.
‘Fellows’ Garden,’ said Sowerden. He pointed towards a green-domed tower looking above the square. ‘That’s the Sheldonian Theatre,’ he observed. ‘Designed by Wren, you know. That’s Christopher Wren, the architect.’
‘I had realised, sir,’ I hissed. The damned man was taking every opportunity to patronise me now that he had discovered I wasn’t Oxbridge.
‘What can you tell me about Gordon Seavers?’ I asked, keeping my feelings to myself.
‘Ah, morning, Rector,’ said Sowerden as we passed a stout gentleman walking in the opposite direction. His reply was carried away by the morning breeze.
‘Professor?’
‘Sorry, Inspector?’
‘Gordon Seavers. Could you tell me something about him?’
‘Of course, of course. He was an average student. Not particularly bright, but a hard worker. Ah, seemed to get on pretty well with his peers, no problems settling in. He was a member of the college cricket team, I recall. Good all-rounder, proud to have him there. Ah, what else? Oh yes, he was engaged to a girl in St Anne’s.’
‘You have women here?’ I was surprised.
‘Oh yes. Four colleges of the dears. The fourth only opened this year.’
‘Was there ever any gossip about Seavers, any rumours or suchlike?’
‘No, ah, nothing like that. He was quite unremarkable.’
I stopped walking suddenly. It was time to get the interview back under my control again. ‘If Gordon Seavers was so unremarkable, then how do you come to remember him so well?’
Sowerden merely flashed his teeth at me enigmatically. ‘Oh, I have a comprehensive memory, Inspector. Quite comprehensive.’ He sat down at a nearby bench and gestured for me to join him.
‘Why did young Seavers kill himself, Inspector?’ he asked.
‘I was hoping you would shed some light on that, Professor.’
‘So you don’t know?’
‘We are pursuing lines of enquiry. This happens to be just one of them. There is a chance that something in his past might have triggered him off.’
‘As I thought. You don’t know.’
‘Not as yet, Professor.’ Time to try another tactic. Sowerden was proving an elusive subject. ‘Professor, correct me if I’m wrong, but you implied that Gordon Seavers was not a particularly bright student.’
‘Quite true. Yes, quite true.’
‘And that, although he was a hard worker, he failed really to shine at the subject.’
‘You’re generalising now, Inspector, but you are still correct. No, he didn’t really “shine", as you so quaintly put it.’
‘Then perhaps you could explain how Gordon Seavers became one of the top men in his field before his untimely death? He was a well-respected scientist held in great esteem by his contemporaries. All this from someone who failed to show any great aptitude for science?’
Sowerden was avoiding my eyes. ‘Really, Inspector, I, ah, cannot be held responsible for the conduct of my students after they leave our hallowed halls. My opinion is just that: an opinion. For all I know he might have hidden his light under a bushel while he was here. It happens, you know. The atmosphere in Oxford can sometimes be a little… oppressive, shall we say? The presence of so many other talents can sometimes be off-putting. No, I’m afraid that I can’t be of any further help to you. I’ve told you everything I know about the fellow. I’m sorry, Inspector, but the burden of finding a reason for his death rests on your shoulders. Ah, good luck. Now I’m afraid I shall be late for a class if I don’t leave.’
He rose and extended a hand. ‘Thank you so much for coming.’
‘Thank you for your help,’ I said grudgingly as he turned to walk away. After a few steps I remembered something.
‘Oh, Professor?’
He turned unwillingly, ‘Yes, Inspector?’
‘Did you know a contemporary of Seavers? A man named Hopkinson. John Hopkinson.