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“But we saw him at the university,” Ben protested with a scowl. “We had a meeting with a man who said he was Archibald Harrington.”
“I hope not,” Isaac retorted with a snort. “Otherwise the university has more problems than they bargained for.”
“Who did we speak to then?” Beatrice whispered. She thought about Mark’s comment that Caroline Smethwick liked to dress up, but then immediately dismissed that notion as utterly ridiculous. Not even Caroline Smethwick was a sufficiently good actress to be able to pass herself off as a man.
“What did he look like?” Isaac asked and drew his notebook out of his pocket along with a pencil. He licked the nib and sat for a moment with it poised over the small block of paper as he waited for Ben to recount the details. “That’s Richard Browning,” he announced with a frown.
Once again, Beatrice looked askance at Ben, and he realised that she was silently asking him if they should tell Mark and Isaac about their visit to Browning’s. The very faint negative shake of his head kept her silent, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t want Mark and Isaac to know that they had called at Browning’s house. Still, it wasn’t the time or the place to ask.
“We got directed to room 51 by a man at the reception desk who suddenly vanished,” she whispered with growing dread.
“What did he look like?”
Ben sighed and probed his memory for as much detail of the ‘receptionist’ as he could remember.
“That’s Bernard Murray,” Mark growled. “Now, why would they be at the university, in Archibald Harrington’s office?”
“Was there any name plaque on the door?” Isaac asked.
“No, the name plate just said ‘Room 51’,” Beatrice replied. “He certainly didn’t give us the impression that he shouldn’t be there, and feared being caught. Does Browning have connections with the university?”
Mark shook his head. “Not as far as I am aware, no. Jules Sanders is the one who used to give lectures there. Browning is an adventurer. His family was once incredibly wealthy and afforded him an extremely comfortable lifestyle as a child. He travelled extensively as a young man and took to bringing rare and exotic plants back. From what I have found out about him, he regularly brought exotic finds back to England, sold them to a niche market, and got good money for them. Some of the purchasers were universities who wanted rare plants for their collection. All went well for a while, but then Browning started to find himself short of money, and sold some of his plants to a rather less discerning collector, shall we say?”
“There is a black market in exotic plants now?” Ben’s brows shot skyward and he shared a look of horror with Beatrice. “Is that what the body at the end of the garden was all about?”
“Do we know who that was for definite yet?” Beatrice asked. Her head was swivelling this way and that as she looked first at Mark, then Ben, then back to Mark. Her breath lodged in her throat as she studied Mark, and she knew who he was going to say before he said it. Sure enough, she was right.
“Brian Mottram.”
“So, of the four men on the list; Jules Sanders and Brian Mottram are dead. The person we thought we were meeting, Archibald Harrington is also dead, but was really Richard Browning.” Ben rubbed a hand down his face and realised that it was going to take some time for his brain to process all of this information. He opened his eyes and glanced first at Mark, then Isaac. “The ‘receptionist’ who guided us to the room may have been Bernard Murray.”
Ben stared blankly at the floor for a moment.
“What?” Isaac asked as he studied Ben’s thoughtful expression.
“How many people have we had following us?” Ben growled in disgust. “Caroline Smethwick must have been following Beatrice to know that she was alone on the lane last Sunday. She must have followed us to Marchwell Bishop today to be able to be behind us. Now it appears that we have Richard Browning following us to the university as well?”
Beatrice started to feel slightly sick. “How? There has been nobody around,” she exclaimed, and felt her temper begin to boil. She frowned at Ben. “We haven’t had a string of carriages behind us whenever we have gone somewhere, so how can that many people follow us?”
Ben nodded and shook his head in consternation.
Beatrice frowned. “I did see Sigmund Hargraves at the market in Great Tipton on the way to the university.”
“He may be employed by Murray and Browning,” Ben sighed. “It would explain how they knew we were on our way and were in position by the time we arrived at the university.”
“It’s a lot of trouble to go to just for a plant,” Beatrice cried.
“This is no normal plant though, Beatrice,” Ben argued. “This is rare and incredibly valuable. If these men have an unscrupulous buyer who is willing to pay a lot of money for something that is one of a kind, they could be driven to do whatever it takes to get their hands on it.”
“Including murder,” Mark added solemnly. He could really find no fault with Ben’s logic and nodded.
“Has anyone been to check Sigmund Hargraves’ address again?”
“He wasn’t at home the last time I checked,” Isaac reported crisply.
The room fell silent, but it was evident from the tension that hovered over them that they were all thinking along the same lines.
“Was he not at home, or not able to answer the door?” Ben asked quietly.
