Free Murdering Americans by Ruth Edwards Page A

news. Now why is this dinner so early?’
    ‘It’s the normal time. Do you eat later in England?’
    ‘Blimey!’ The baroness looked nervously at Marjorie, to whom fortunately the blasphemous origins of the word seemed unknown. ‘We certainly do. Now what’ll I do?’
    ‘I’ll take you back to the hotel and wait while you change into your glad rags.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said the baroness, as she headed for the door. ‘What’s suitable? Top hat? White tie? Tails?’
    ‘You needn’t put on the Ritz, Lady Troutbeck,’ said Marjorie with a smile. ‘A nice frock will be just dandy.’
    *. It needed only that.
    ***
    ‘Who’s going to be there, Marjorie?’ asked the baroness, now resplendent in an intricately knitted Missoni dress of red, mauve, and purple. Since purchasing an entire job-lot of designer garments that had been donated to a Cambridge Oxfam shop by a woman of her own generous proportions, the baroness was beginning to develop a reputation as a bit of a fashionista.
    ‘Didn’t the Provost give you the list?’
    ‘She gave me a ton of paper, but I ignored it. She’d been reading me some stuff I thought was guff, so I assumed all this was guff as well and anyway today I had pressing matters to attend to.’
    ‘In that case you’d better bring all that paper along to the office tomorrow and I’ll show you what’s important. You need to know your schedule. As for tonight, there will be you and the other three DVPs as well as the President, several deans, a half-dozen or so senior professors, and Martin Freeman, who’s the Chairman of the Board of Trustees and whose family bankrolled the university. Some wives will be there as well.’
    ‘Will Professor Godber be there?’
    ‘Why do you ask?’
    ‘Just something I heard about him made me interested in meeting him.’
    Marjorie looked at her curiously. ‘I don’t know. Warren Godber doesn’t socialise much. And I don’t know that he’d be invited anyway. It’ll be mostly people…’ she chose her words carefully, ‘closer to the administration.’
    ‘Will we have speeches inflicted on us?’
    Marjorie gave a slight smile. ‘You sure will. After all, you’ll be making one yourself.’
    ‘I will? Shit! What about?’
    ‘Didn’t the Provost tell you?’
    ‘Maybe she did, but what with all the travel and jet-lag and general fuss, I’m afraid I didn’t take it in. What do I have to do?’
    ‘Just five minutes or so on why you’ve come here and what you hope to do should be fine.’
    ‘I wish I’d given that some thought, Marjorie. However, no doubt something will occur to me.’
    ***
    ‘President Dickinson, may I present Lady Troutbeck?’
    Dickinson—expensively coiffed, orange-tanned, and smooth-faced—wrung the baroness’s hand firmly and gazed into her eyes with an expression of deep sincerity. ‘May I bid you a hearty welcome to Freeman University, Lady Troutbeck? We are honoured to have a person of such distinction visiting with us.’
    ‘Greetings from the United Kingdom, President. It’s an honour to be invited to be part of such a fine institution, even for such a short time.’
    Dickinson introduced her cursorily to his more darkly tanned wife, an anxious bottle-blonde with enormous lips who looked half his age, and then began a welcome speech to Rowland Cunningham.
    ‘Can I get you a cocktail, Lady Troutbeck?’ asked Traci Dickinson.
    ‘You certainly can. Gin and tonic…no, no, on second thoughts, I’ll have whisky. Large, bottled water, no ice.’
    Her drink arrived quickly. As she took it from Traci, she was impressed by her nails, which were painted fuchsia, elaborately etched with a yellow that matched her dress, and were so long they seemed almost to encircle the glass. Within a few minutes, the chore of listening to Cunningham, who was oozing unctuousness, caused the baroness to request another whisky. The discovery that she also knew and despised the other two Distinguished Visiting Professors caused