drive and inclination to move upward.’
‘Not many. Sadly, we spend most of our life seeing the other end of the spectrum.’ Nikki stood up. ‘May we see her room, Dr Villiers?’
‘Of course, but they don’t have rooms anymore, the modern version is called a pod or a cube. And if it’s alright with you, I won’t come with you. My visits to the student’s quarters are kept to the minimum, and my presence would definitely cause speculation that something is amiss.’
‘And ours won’t?’ asked Nikki.
‘You aren’t wearing uniforms. Lots of people come and go through the living centre.’ The dean opened the door. ‘Excuse me, I’ll go and get you a pass card.’
‘There goes a seriously worried man,’ muttered Joseph, as the door closed.
‘Wouldn’t you be, if this kid is the A-class swat that he reckons she is?’ Nikki walked to the window and looked across the acres of grounds, and whispered, almost to herself. ‘I’ve got a very bad feeling about Kerry Anderson.’
* * *
Joseph looked across the campus and his eyes widened. ‘This has all changed beyond recognition! An uncle of mine used to live in one of the old houses in Blenheim Road.’ He indicated to an area beyond the perimeter wall. ‘You could see the art college, as it was then, from his bedroom window. It looked like some rambling old mansion house in lovely parkland. Nothing like this!’
‘Ever heard of progress?’ Nikki was in no mood for giving talks on Greenborough’s regeneration over the last decade, and thankfully, Joseph took the hint.
The student living quarters bore no resemblance to any student digs that Nikki had ever seen, and she’d seen a few grubby rooms in her time. Ultra-modern, the main entrance opened onto a large communal space with a central hub that housed chairs and tables, and a bank of ovens, refrigerators and store cupboards. Several students were making snacks, getting hot drinks or generally hanging out there. A series of corridors radiated from the central core, and off these, were the student pods.
Using the swipe card, they let themselves into Kerry’s private domain.
For a student, it was unnervingly tidy. The bed was made, and there was very little clutter of any kind around. It seemed that Kerry’s only concession to traditional student living was to cover the walls with pictures. But hers were very professional pictures.
‘Bloody hell! Villiers was right.’ Nikki studied an atmospheric black and white study of a derelict windmill. ‘She’s damned good. I suppose it’s her work?’
‘I’d say so.’ Joseph looked from picture to picture. ‘With the probable exception of these.’ He pointed to a collection of postcard sized photographs.
Nikki squinted. ‘What are they? Stars and stuff?’
‘They are astro-photos, taken through a telescope, and to get quality like this, someone was using some pretty expensive equipment, I’d say.’
‘Not her?’
‘Wouldn’t think so. Unless she keeps her telescope and accessories somewhere else. There’s no room for that kind of stuff here.’ He looked around, then added, ‘And frankly, science, astronomy and cosmology enthusiasts who would be capable of taking shots like this, tend to be male.’
‘Sexist!’
‘Far from it. I’m actually admitting that geeks, nerds and anoraks are generally blokes. She clearly has an interest in the subject, or she wouldn’t have the photos, but I just feel, looking at these other pictures, that she’s more artistic, more into moods and atmospheres.’
Nicely side stepped, Sergeant Easter! ‘ Right, well, let’s see what we can find. You take the living area and I’ll take the bedroom section.’
Nikki had never been inside a pod before, and was impressed. Within the small area was a living space with desk and workstation, a bedroom with roomy storage boxes, hanging space and cupboards built around the bed, and a full en-suite. The windows in both rooms were floor to ceiling, giving