Death at the Alma Mater Read Online Free PDF

love this thing.”
    This thang fumed India silently. Oh, my god. To think at one time she had found this prat worth putting on net stockings for.
    “Then you punch in the address, see? And look, it’s even got a world travel clock with time zones, a currency converter, a measurement converter, a calculator …” James, to his credit, looked on with every appearance of polite interest. James, who could not insert a battery in the electric toothbrush and had no wish to learn how. That was what servants were for. “I was headed for the Eagle,” Augie went on. “The GPS tells me where to turn. You should get one of these things. Tells you where you are.”
    “I know where I am,” said Lady Bassett.
    “And surely,” said James, hesitating, “you remember the Eagle? We all spent many an afternoon there during our wasted youth.”
    Augie sighed. “That’s not the point. It’s that … well you see … I can’t miss it this way.” Reluctantly, he pocketed the little device. Difficult to explain the thrill of technology to two people probably still wedded to their ABC railway guides. “Why don’t you two kids join me for a drink?”
    James and India, fighting to keep the looks of desperate horror off their faces, spoke simultaneously:
    “We’re due for drinks with the Master.”
    “We’re having drinks with the Bursar.”
    India gave her husband a subtle stomp on the instep. It would have been bearable if she hadn’t been wearing heels.
    “They’ll both be there,” she finished brightly. “The Master and the Bursar, you see. Dreadfully sorry. Some other time, perhaps.” She did not allow her voice to end on an upward inflection that would turn the last sentence into a question. She would have drinks with this ruffian colonist when hell froze over and not before.
    “Sure,” said Augie. They thought they were fooling someone but he knew better. The friendlier he tried to be, the more these bluebloods looked down their noses. He didn’t get it. Folk high and low were friendly where he came from.
    And it’s not as if the three of them didn’t go way back together …
    “Sure,” he said again. “Catch up with you later.”
    –––
    “I wonder when it’ll be safe to go back. They’re everywhere. Including my parents. Could this get any worse?”
    Sebastian Burrows stood at the rear bar of the Eagle. After countless visits he had become oblivious to its history and the golden ambience created by its warm yellow walls. The famed ceiling, its darkened surface scorched with the writing of British and American fighter pilots, went unnoticed and unremarked.
    “Insult to injury, I agree,” said Saffron Sellers. She stood behind the bar in jeans, a knee-length T-shirt, and iridescent green eye shadow.
    “You want another?” She indicated the pint at his elbow. “Manager’ll never know. He’s out somewhere with the missus; they won’t be back until business picks up around five.”
    “Sure, why not?” Sebastian shoved the glass in her direction. Having a girlfriend who tended bar had its perks. Besides, he wasn’t officially in training right now.
    “Have you seen Lexy yet?” he asked Saffron’s turning back.
    “Oh, yes. I caught a glimpse,” she sighed, expertly pulling his pint. “She’s amazing.” Saffron had lost the struggle with the knowledge there was something slightly shameful about her avid interest in their distinguished visitor. It was like having a movie idol visit the college. Not that Lexy had ever done anything but be Lexy. She had no discernable talent except for being a lesser member of the minor nobility who happened to be stylish and hugely photogenic. For some people, that was enough. By a little-understood process—little understood even to the reporters and reviewers who followed her every move—Lexy’s presence at a restaurant meant years-long success for that restaurant, however marginal may have been the meal she’d eaten there. Her being seen wearing a