By the end of the afternoon Cassie had learned that Professor Arculus, her favourite pathologist, would be conducting a forensic PM on Sean’s body at seven o’clock the following morning.
And there was more good news: just as she was pulling on her jacket she got a call back from Persephone ‘Seffy’ Smythe, Dido’s elder daughter. Cassie had contacted her earlier that day, to tentatively share the flash of intuition she’d had in the loos while replacing her piercings.
‘You were right!’ Persephone sounded giddy with relief. ‘What a marvellous piece of luck that I managed to get hold of someone before they’d had a chance to put it out in the shop.’
The ‘someone’ would be one of the volunteers at the local charity shop, and the item that might have ended up being sold to a bargain hunter was Dido Smythe’s old but much-loved Chanel suit which she’d worn to a family christening a couple of weeks before her death.
‘You found them then?’
‘Yes! I had checked the pockets before taking it but when I had a proper look, they’d gone down a hole in the lining. That suit was ancient . . . but Mummy did love it.’
It amused Cassie the way Seffy said the word suit to rhyme with newt, presumably the posh-person pronunciation.
‘Wherever did you get the idea?’ Seffy asked wonderingly.
‘I put my earrings in the pocket of my scrubs sometimes. It occurred to me that your mum might have done the same, you know, after a long day at the christening.’
‘Well, I can’t thank you enough.’ Seffy’s words were heartfelt.
‘Have you told Acantha?’
A strained pause and when Seffy replied, her discomfort was clear. ‘I . . . I didn’t behave very well that day, I’m so sorry you got dragged into it. I should have known that Acantha would never stoop . . . Now she’s insisting that I have the earrings.’
‘That’s kind of her,’ said Cassie. ‘I’d accept if I were you.’
‘Perhaps I will. We do love each other you know, in spite of appearances.’
‘I could tell,’ said Cassie. After hanging up, she was struck by a sudden feeling of melancholy at her lack of a sister – or brother.
*
Later that afternoon, Cassie was heading back to the boat when she spotted a man in his sixties sitting on a camping stool at the edge of the towpath. He was an eccentric sight: he wore a shabby tweed greatcoat, topped by a clear red plastic mac, and had a bulging leather briefcase beside him. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him: Gaz had told her he was homeless and from the way he talked to himself he probably had mental health issues. Today she noticed he was silent and immobile, with his eyes closed.
She paused beside him. ‘Are you OK?’
After opening his eyes cautiously he asked, in a commanding tone, ‘What’s the time?’
‘Umm. It’s almost exactly five.’
‘One hour and forty-nine minutes to go,’ he said. After rooting in his pocket. he pulled out a small black cylinder a bit like a zoom lens.
‘Are you waiting for someone?’ she asked.
His face twisted in irritation, he pointed downstream. ‘It rises there.’
‘What does?’
‘Jupiter of course! It will reach full opposition this evening, next to the moon.’
When he put the gadget to his eye she realised it was a mini-telescope. Squinting eastwards down the canal, a curve of dull silver in the failing light she made out the moon edging over the horizon, its surface surprisingly bright, reflecting the sun’s rays directly opposite.
‘Three hundred and sixty-seven million miles from Earth.’ The guy was flushed with excitement. ‘Very close indeed.’
‘That’s great. Listen, if you ever need some water, a cup of tea or anything, just knock, OK? My boat’s just up there. Dreamcatcher.’
‘Good day to you,’ he said distantly, his eye still pinned to the telescope.
*
Going into her cabin, she immediately got a bad feeling. It was Macavity’s dinnertime but he was nowhere to be seen, although he could have scored a sneaky extra feed from one of his boat-dwelling admirers. After checking everything in the galley and the forward cabin where her bed was, she couldn’t find anything out of place. It was a while before she realised what was making her nerves jangle.
The hint of an unfamiliar fragrance in the air.