‘You used to be Rosette’s lover,’ Greg said. Cecil Cameron inclined his head reluctantly. ‘Yes. When she first came to Launde, last October. Talk about impact; we started screwing the day after she arrived.’ ‘How long did it last for?’ ‘About a month.’ ‘Why did it end?’ He shrugged expansively. ‘You’ve met Rosette. How long could you put up with her for?’ Greg heard Vernon chuckling softly behind him. Lisa Collier, who was acting as Cecil’s adviser, tapped on his arm, giving him a disapproving frown. ‘No opinions,’ she murmured. ‘I didn’t even get on with her to start with,’ Greg said. ‘You obviously did.’ ‘For a while. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Rosette and me are still good mates. But she’s difficult to please. She thrives on variety, everything has to be fresh for her. Her tolerance threshold is non-existent. We burnt out. I knew it would right from the beginning. It was good while it lasted, mind. I mean, let’s face it, she can take her pick.’ ‘Did she pick Kitchener?’ ‘No. That was mutual attraction.’ ‘What were you doing on Thursday night after supper?’ ‘Working on a project of Kitchener’s; I was studying theoretical perturbations in electron orbits.’ ‘Were you interfacing with the Abbey’s Bendix lightware cruncher?’ ‘Yes. Why, you think I can do that kind of thing in my head?’ ‘What time did you stop using the Bendix?’ ‘About eleven o’clock.’ ‘Could you be more precise, please?’ L A QUANTUM MURDER 123 ‘Five past, ten past, something like that.’ ‘Was it functioning normally when you were interfacing with it?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Did you use the English Telecom datalink to access any ‘ware cores outside the Abbey that night?’ ‘No.’ ‘Did you use the datanet for anything that night?’ ‘No.’ ‘What did you do after you stopped work?’ ‘Rosette came in, that’s why I stopped. We had a drink and a talk. The other four were in Uri’s room. She doesn’t get on terribly well with Liz, and Nick isn’t exactly enthralling conversation at the best of times.’ ‘Do you like him?’ ‘Who, Nick? Yeah, I don’t mind him. He’s a bit shy, but he’s a sodding genius when it comes to physics. We all knew that.’ ‘How long was Rosette with you?’ ‘Until after midnight – quarter-past, half-past maybe. She went off to see Kitchener then.’ He pulled an indignant face. ‘What a waste. Old man like that. Her choice, mind.’ ‘What about the other three students, how did you get on with them?’ ‘Fine. Uri and Liz had been involved for a year. Uri’s great, one of the lads. Liz too, come to that.’ ‘And what about Isabel?’ Greg watched the conflicting emotional surges corrupt Cecil’s thought currents, the twinges of guilt coupled with an almost paternal urge of protectiveness. Cecil was being pulled apart by indecision. ‘Nice girl. Bit disorientated by Abbey life, but she was coping.’ ‘Did you sleep with her?’ ‘Hey’ I said we were friends.’ ‘Your relationship is something more than an ordinary friendship, though.’ Cecil looked round at Lisa Collier for guidance. PETER F. HAMILTON 124 ‘It’s a legitimate question,’ she said sourly. ‘You can tell that from my mind?’ Cecil asked apprehensively. ‘Yeah.’ ‘OK. Well, I meant what I said, mind. We weren’t screwing each other. Wish we had been, she’s got a terrific body. I asked her often enough, but she wasn’t keen. She said that it couldn’t last, not with me leaving at the end of the year, so it would be pointless, she’d only wind up getting hurt. I might have managed to change her mind in the end. Still. . . I was happy enough playing big brother to her. There weren’t many others she could turn to. I mean all that New Age crap Kitchener spouted about liberating your mind. Christ. The longest chat-up routine ever written. He said anything that would get them into bed with him, and they did as well, two by two. Isabel was confused by it. So we talked, that’s all. Nick would have burst into tears if she’d told him what she was up to with Kitchener. As for Liz and Uri, hell, it’s a miracle if they get out of bed for a meal! And Rosette, well she was with Kitchener.’ ‘Did Isabel come and talk with you that night?’ ‘No.’ ‘You were taking syntho. Why was that?’ Cecil drummed his kinaware fingers on the desk, black nails producing a tiny click on the smooth surface. ‘Because it was available. I never took much.’ ‘You infused some that night.’ Greg found himself staring at the silver-hued hand. Powerful enough to make the butchery easy? ‘Yes.’ ‘When?’ ‘Rosette brought some in. I was bored. I’d been in the Abbey all day. We didn’t even get out for a swim.’ ‘A swim?’ ‘Yes, we usually went for a dip in the top lake in the afternoon. Mornings as well, if it was fine. We’re all reasonable swimmers, even Nick.’ Greg hesitated, that ambiguous notion returned at the men- A QUANTUM MURDER 125 tion of the lake. What was it about those three lakes? He hadn’t been able to explain, not even to Eleanor. It was more than intuition, there was memory involved as well. Something had happened at Launde, quite a while ago. For the life of him he couldn’t think what. It was bloody annoying. ‘Was there ever anythingunusual about those lakes?’ he asked. ‘No, not as far as I know.’ Cecil gave Lisa Collier another mistrustful glance. She maintained her cantankerous expression, eyes not leaving Greg. ‘OK.’ Greg gave up. He touched a key on his cybofax, bringing up another page of questions. ‘Did you ever take any syntho with Isabel?’ ‘Once or twice, yes. She was always timid about narcotics. Her background is very middle class.’ ‘Could anybody help themselves to Kitchener’s stash?’ ‘It wasn’t kept under lock and key. I always asked him, or Rosette. He would have known if someone had been taking it. The only thing he was concerned about was that we didn’t OD.’ ‘Tell me what happened when the body was discovered.’ ‘Christ. The screams woke me up. That was Rosette. By the time I got into the corridor Nick and Un had already got there. I. . . went in to Kitchener’s bedroom. . . Wish to God I hadn’t. That was one sick fucker who did that, Mr Mandel. I mean seriously fucked.’ ‘I know.’ ‘Yes. Well. Nick was puking his guts up. Uri was in shock, he just stood there, like he wasn’t seeing it. What do they call it? Thousand-metre stare. I think Rosette had fainted by then. Passed out, swooned, something. She’d stopped screammg, anyway. I got in one look and tried to stop Liz and Isabel from going in.’ When did they arrive?’ ‘Right after me.’ ‘Both together?’ ‘God, I don’.t know. Yes, more or less.’ ‘Did you see any movement in the corridor before you got to Kitchener?’ PETER F. HAMILTON 126 ‘The murderer, you mean? No. If! had, I would have killed him.’ Lisa Collier gave a censorious cough. Cecil looked round at her. ‘I would have killed him,’ he repeated firmly. ‘When did you wash that night?’ Greg asked. ‘When did I wash?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘About eleven o’clock. I had a shower. My conditioner couldn’t cope with the storm. My room was like a sauna. I couldn’t open the window, not with the rain we had that night.’ ‘OK, thanks, Cecil.’ ‘That’s it?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Aren’t you going to ask me if I did it? I thought that’s why they brought you here.’ ‘There’s no need, not a direct question. It wasn’t you.’