Кара Хантер - No Way Out

It was supposed to be Quinn looking for Kuiper on the CCTV, but it's no surprise to find it's Baxter doing the heavy lifting. There are several cameras on the Banbury Road and outside some of the shops on the Summertown parade, but nothing on the side streets, and if Kuiper had any sense he'd have gone that way. Their only chance is the route he must have taken to get there from where he lives in Littlemore. Whether he went round the ring road or through the centre of town, they should still be able to pick him up. Always assuming, of course, that he used his own car.

Baxter loads up the first set of footage and glances across at Quinn, who's fiddling about with his mobile.

`Can you do me a favour and check the taxi firms? Kuiper might have got a minicab.'

Quinn makes a face. `Really? So he gets in the back seat saying `њ Don't mind the petrol can, mate, I'll pay extra if I soil the seats `ќ?'

Baxter's turn to make a face. `OK, OK, but you know what I mean.' He turns back to his screen. `And it'll give you something useful to do,' he mutters.

Lauren Kaminsky has a room in one of Wolfson's modern blocks overlooking the Cherwell and the Rainbow Bridge. That's modern as in 1970s; in this town a college founded in 1379 is still called `New'. There's frost clinging to the trees and two swans are gliding silently with the current. A whirl of seagulls circle above the water, screeching like witches. The room itself is small but comfortable. No clutter, very little sign of personal preferences. A kitchenette, a tiny bathroom glimpsed through a half-open door. As for Lauren, she's as self-contained as her surroundings. Petite, with short brown hair in a pixie cut. She catches Somer glancing around and smiles, a little wearily.

`I'm not here much. My boyfriend is a don at Magdalen. I spend most of my time there. I mean, this place is fine and all that, but it's hardly `њOxford`ќ, is it?'

She gestures them to take a seat. The sofa is only just big enough for two and Somer is uncomfortably aware that she is thigh to thigh with Gislingham.

`I'm guessing you want to talk to me about Michael Esmond? It's truly terrible, what happened.'

Everyone has said that. Sometimes in exactly the same words.

`It was your boyfriend who reported the sexual harassment, I believe?' says Gislingham.

She nods. `I wasn't going to make a big thing of it, but Ned was furious. He wanted me to go to the police, file an official complaint `“ the whole nine yards.'

`I gather Dr Esmond denies anything happened.'

She takes a seat, but sits on the edge, as if poised for escape. `Well, he would, wouldn't he?'

`You haven't spoken to him about it yourself?' asks Somer.

She shakes her head. `No, not since that night. It was way too embarrassing. I decided it was better to let the department handle it. That's what they're paid for.'

`And how had he been with you before that?' asks Gislingham. `Did he ever `“'

She smiles at his discomfiture. `Come on to me? No. He was always really `“ what is it you Brits say? `“ stand-offish . Buttoned-up. Until that night. I think it must have been the drink talking.'

`That's no excuse,' says Somer, frowning.

`No, of course not. He behaved like a sexist shit. But, hey, I liked the guy. The whole thing was totally out of character. Like I said, I'd have left it at that but Ned wasn't having any of it.'

`So there was absolutely no flirtation before that `“ nothing to suggest he was interested in you in that way?'

`Uh-uh,' she says, stifling a yawn. `Sorry, jet lag kicking in.'

`Is there anything else?' asks Somer. `Anything that struck you about Dr Esmond in the last few months? Other people seem to think he was under a lot of strain. Did he appear that way to you?'

She considers. `I didn't see him a whole lot. But I guess he did seem a bit off. That whole Kuiper review thing can't have helped, but you can't say he didn't bring that on himself. You do know about that, right?'

Somer nods. `Is there anything you can tell us about it? Something we might not already know?'

Kaminsky yawns again. `I doubt it. Look, can we take a rain check? I'm totally wiped out. If I think of anything I'll give you a call.'

Somer glances at Gislingham: they're not going to get much more here. They get up to go.

`Thank you, Miss Kaminsky,' Gislingham says at the door. `And do phone us, won't you? Even if it's something that doesn't seem significant.'

They go down the stairs and out into the cold air. Somer pulls on a beanie and Gislingham smiles at her. `You look just like my kid sister.'

She glances across. `I didn't know you had one.'

`Yeah, she's seven years younger than me, so she was always the baby of the family. You?'

`Older sister.' But something about the look on her face means he doesn't ask any more.

`So, what do you think?' asks Somer, as they reach the porter's lodge and Gislingham pulls open the heavy glass door.

`I can't see why Kaminsky would lie. And we know she wasn't in the country when the fire started.'

`And only fifteen per cent of arsons are committed by women,' says Somer thoughtfully.

`Right, so this is just ticking a box, isn't it? Or am I missing something?'

Somer is silent for a moment. `What about the boyfriend?'

`The bloke at Magdalen? Ned whatsit? What about him?'

`He was obviously seriously pissed off at Esmond. Wouldn't you be `“ if it was Janet?'

`Yeah, course I would. But I wouldn't set his bloody house on fire. Trust me. This is a dead end.'

Up at her window, Lauren Kaminsky watches the police officers down the path and out of sight. Then she picks up her mobile.

`Ned `“ call me back, will you? The police have been here.'

She ends the call but remains standing at the window. Her face is troubled.

Back at St Aldate's, Everett has taken one for the team and volunteered to go through the calls they've been taking on the tip line, which has to be in the dictionary under `thankless task'. After an hour of it she realizes her foot has gone numb and stands up to get herself a coffee, limping down the corridor to the machine as the pins and needles kick in.

`You all right?' asks Quinn, who's contemplating the selection. He has his pen behind his ear. Like he does.

`Fine,' she says. `Trying to stop the rest of me falling asleep as well as my foot.'

`That good, eh?'

`What about you?'

He kicks the machine. `Nada. No sign of Kuiper anywhere that night. Doesn't look like he took a cab either, though we haven't covered all of them yet. How many bloody taxi firms are there in this city?'

`There's never one at the station when it's raining, though,' says Everett with a sigh.

Back in the office she sits down next to Somer. `Anything useful?' she says, looking across at what's on the desk in front of her.

`Just seeing if I can find out anything about Lauren Kaminsky's boyfriend.'

Everett raises her eyebrows. `You think he could be a suspect?'

Somer gives a wry smile. `No, not really. But I'd just like to put a big fat tick in the box marked `њCast-Iron Alibi`ќ.'

`Somer?' calls Baxter from the other side of the room. `Call for you, line three.'

Telephone interview with Philip Esmond, 7 January 2018, 4.55 p.m.

On the call, DC E. Somer

PE:DC Somer? It's Philip Esmond again. I saw the news. About Matty. ES:I'm so sorry. PE:I just wish I could have got back in time. ES:His grandparents were with him. If that helps. PE:That's something, I suppose. They must be devastated. First Zachary, then Sam, and now this.

[ sighs ]

Well, at least all those shits online will stop abusing her for being a bad mother now.