Questionable Results

by R A Wallace

  ***

  She reached the first floor of Glennon Hall after her last class of the day and found Bennie waiting for her near the burgundy and white chair.

  “Miss Markham.” Bennie had his hat in his hands. He was absently twirling it around.

  “You were looking for me?” She watched Bennie’s eyes scan the hall around them. The students who hadn’t yet left the building after their class were milling about discussing their plans for the evening.

  “I was wondering if I might have a word.” Bennie looked around again.

  “Actually, I was on my way to see you,” Delia said. “I was hoping I might borrow the principal’s telephone.”

  His face brightened. “I’ll walk to Biltmore with you.”

  She fastened her jacket as they left the building. “Something is the matter?”

  “The captain told me about his request.” He adjusted his hat on his head. “He asked you to look into the situation at the game preserve.”

  Delia wondered how much the captain had told Bennie. “What about it?”

  “Well, the thing is.” Bennie stopped speaking to nod a greeting at a group of students.

  Delia couldn’t help making a comparison. At nineteen, Bennie could easily be a student at the normal school. They continued walking in silence for a few moments.

  “The boys came to see me.” Bennie hunched his shoulders as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

  It took her a moment to figure out who he meant. “Boys. Your friends who have begun their military training here?”

  Bennie nodded but pressed his lips together instead of continuing.

  She made the connection between conversations. “The captain asked me to look into the situation at the game preserve. Your friends know something?”

  He nearly stumbled as he turned toward her. The surprise in his face quickly turned to admiration. “I should have known you’d figure it out.”

  She laughed. “Hardly. I’ll need you to tell me what they know.”

  He stole another glance at her. “I feel like a right tattle tale.”

  “A man has been murdered,” she reminded him.

  His shoulders hunched again. “As I said, the boys came to see me.”

  “They wanted to tell you about the game preserve?” she guessed.

  “Not directly, no. That just happened to come out in the conversation.”

  “Did they see the victim?”

  “I’m not certain what they saw.” Bennie stopped when they encountered a cluster of students to let Delia pass in front of him. After circling around the group, he met back up with her. “I know they were there. They told me as much. I gather they saw something. They wouldn’t have been as excited if they hadn’t.”

  “What did they say?”

  “That’s just it. They were all talking at once.”

  “Why were they at the game preserve?” she asked.

  “The hunting season is coming up. They wanted to check out the prospects.” Bennie opened the door for her as they reached Biltmore. “Besides, they’d heard about it from some of their teachers.”

  She wasn’t surprised to hear that George and Arthur would mention it in class. She turned at the stairs and began climbing to the second floor.

  “The thing is, I figured this might be important.” Bennie followed her up. “I mean, I know you’ve worked with the police before on cases. I just didn’t want to take it to the chief.”

  “You’re hoping I can learn something without getting Judson involved?” She led the way into his office.

  “If it’s possible.” Bennie removed his hat. “I know it might not be.”

  “I understand that it seems like you are getting your friends into trouble,” she said.

  He grumbled an agreement.

  “But it’s possible they don’t see it that way,” she pointed out. “And I’m not certain it matters either way. The important thing is that a man has been killed. The killer must be found.”

  Bennie pressed his lips together again but this time he nodded in agreement.

  She motioned toward the principal’s door.

  “He’s at a meeting off campus. Go right on in and make yourself comfortable,” Bennie suggested as he reached for a folder on his desk.

  Delia let herself into the principal’s office taking care to close the door behind her. After making the connection to her party, she sank down into the principal’s deep leather seat the moment she heard Euphemia’s voice. The admiral’s wife was in between engagements but made the time to listen to Delia’s request.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask for,” Delia said after explaining the situation with Mena’s arborist. “But if you could learn anything about his family.”

  “And the other situation?” Euphemia asked.

  Delia explained that Wes’s minion, Luther Killian, had been sent to Washington.

  “Interesting. I’ll see what I can learn from my end,” Euphemia promised.

  Delia left the principal’s office a few minutes later. As she walked to her rooms in the dormitory, she thought about her conversation with Euphemia. They’d had a few moments to catch up with each other’s lives. It was good to hear Euphemia’s voice. To hear that she sounded hale and healthy after her recent scare with the influenza. She remembered the letter she’d received from Georgia, her best friend in the service.

  Georgia took on the role of amanuensis to the admiral after Delia’s injury. It was Georgia who now spent time with the admiral and his wife, Euphemia. During Euphemia’s recent bout with influenza, it was Georgia who wrote to Delia to let her know that Euphemia was ill but that she was on her way to recovery.

  The thought of influenza reminded her of Blanche. She wondered if Mena had a chance to touch base with the school nurse during her afternoon meetings.

  Delia spent her evening grading papers and thinking about the events at the new state game preserve. Late in the evening, she found herself restless. As was her habit, she pulled on the men’s uniform given to her as a joke when she first joined the service and slipped out the side door of the dormitory building. The nights were somewhat cooler than they were when she’d first arrived at Glennon Normal School just weeks ago but it was nothing compared to what the future would bring. She knew that the winters in western Pennsylvania could be hard.

  She pulled a knit cap lower on her neck as she made her way through the darkness. This time, she wasn’t surprised by Otis’s presence when he stole up behind her.

  “See anyone?” he asked quietly.

  “No. You?” She sensed his shrug in the dark.

  “Any luck with the death at the game preserve?”

  She wasn’t surprised Wesley would have mentioned it to Otis. “I was told not to look into the death.”

  His chuckle was low and quiet.

  “I’ve spoken with the three men directly involved,” she continued.

  “And?”

  It was her turn to shrug in the dark. “It’s early yet. I learned today that there may have been others in the woods.”

  He began to move away. “Keep me updated.”

  At first, she wondered at his interest. Then she realized that he was keenly aware of anything involving the Glennon family. She wondered again why that was as she made her way through the dark around the perimeter of the campus.

  Chapter Nine

  Delia gathered her work together as she waited for her morning coffee to percolate. The graded assignments would need to be returned to her students during her classes throughout the day. In exchange, she would receive a new stack that would make the trip home with her for another round of grading at the end of the day.

  The rooms of her apartment didn’t have the chill of the previous morning. She briefly wondered if a jacket would be necessary or if a sweater would do but then her thoughts turned to the mystery of the game preserve. She would need to speak with more people today. Thanks to Bennie, she had an idea where to begin.

  The three primary me
n involved in the incident hadn’t yielded much. George initially thought perhaps that Arthur had suggested they approach the victim. Arthur suggested it was Alexander, whereas Mena’s arborist pointed at George. Either way, the men managed to destroy any usable evidence in the process.

  Perhaps the military students might know something? According to Bennie, his friends were excited about something they’d seen or heard. She would be getting her exercise walking around the campus to speak with them. That made her think once again of the debate between jacket and sweater.

  She eyed the percolator then retrieved her room key. As she entered the hallway, she reminded herself to speak with Alma St. Clair. The head matron would know what to do about a morning newspaper. In the meantime, she felt guilty for taking one from the front entrance. It was very possible that it was delivered there for someone else. She’d have to find out.

  As she moved further down the hallway, she began to encounter students as they went through their morning routine. She was beginning to recognize some of their faces though she’d yet to learn most of their names. Not all students took typewriting courses, much to her dismay. She thought of countless examples when such a skill was useful.

  “Excuse me.” The mumbled phrase came from a harried-looking girl clutching her morning necessities in her hands. The loose sides of her kimono flapped behind her as she quickly darted toward the shared bathroom.

  She wasn’t the only girl headed in that direction. The hallway was filled with young ladies in various stages of readiness. Delia listened to the comments made as she worked her way to the main entrance.

  “I hope there aren’t any pop quizzes today.” A wide yawn caused a temporary pause in the complaint. “I swear I’ll never give them when I’m a teacher.”

  Delia dodged out of the way when a door flew open next to her. The girl that popped out into the hallway appeared to be in a panic.

  “Honest-to-goodnessy, my hair! I can’t go to class like this.”

  Delia watched her make her way to the pressing room with a curling iron in her hand.

  “That’s not what I heard,” a brunette waiting for the bathroom said to the dark-haired girl behind her. “Ivy said the man was murdered.”

  Delia stopped moving and unabashedly listened to the conversation. The girls weren’t facing her at the time. The long line of those waiting for their turn were all facing forward.

  “Whatever was she doing there?” the dark-haired girl asked.

  “You know.” It was said in a sing-song voice.

  “Oh.” The word was stretched out into several syllables. “Those two are always ducking off somewhere.”

  “But Ivy said they were that close to the killer.” The words were infused with the appropriate level of drama required for such a pronouncement.

  “Your cousin has been known to exaggerate before,” came the response.

  Delia stepped forward. “Good morning, ladies.”

  Her presence in the dormitory to date had been tolerated mostly by pretending she wasn’t amongst their midst. Several pairs of eyes now turned toward her as though surprised to discover she was in the building. Delia focused on the two discussing Ivy. The others quickly turned their backs as though relieved to avoid conversation with a teacher before breakfast.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation,” Delia said. “It sounds as though your cousin may have information that the police would like to learn.”

  The brunette’s eyes widened. The dark-haired girl moved away as the line shifted closer to the shared the bathroom.

  “I, uh.” The brunette looked longingly at the other girls. There was now a distance of several feet between them.

  “Ivy is your cousin, you said.” Delia took another step toward the young girl. “Can you tell me what Ivy heard?”

  The brunette’s head shook quickly indicating she could not.

  “This is about the man that was killed on the new state game preserve?” Delia needed to be certain.

  The brunette’s head dipped once as her eyes remained locked on Delia’s.

  “I’m going to need her name,” Delia prompted.

  It elicited another shaking of the brunette’s head.

  “You can either tell me or the police,” Delia said quietly.

  “Ivy,” she blurted.

  Delia lifted her brows.

  There was a sigh of resignation. “Ivy Banks.”

  “Is she a student here at the normal school?” Delia shifted over a step as a group of girls moved past them.

  The brunette shook her head slowly.

  “What about the boyfriend?” Delia watched the brunette continue to shake her head. “I’m going to need his name and directions for both.”

  It took Delia several minutes to get the information that she needed. Once she had it, she continued on her way to find a newspaper. She left her apartment a short time later wearing a sweater. According to the paper, the warm weather had returned and she wouldn’t need it by mid-morning.

  As she walked, she organized her day in her head. She knew that she needed to tell Judson what she had learned but she didn’t want to do that until she had a chance to speak to the two lovers in the woods. It was possible that the information she’d overheard in the dormitory was more drama than fact. Her daily interactions with her students was ample evidence that some enjoyed the element of exaggeration.

  “Yeoman.”

  Delia turned toward the principal then watched him close the distance between them. He appeared to be holding his body stiff, as though in pain. She knew he and Otis spent much of the night patrolling the campus because of the fiend. She wondered at the toll on his wounded body.

  “Captain.” She waited to hear what he had to say.

  “Can I assume you have begun your snooping?” He looked hopeful.

  “You requested my assistance,” she reminded him.

  “Indeed, I did. That is why I am now asking for results,” he said.

  The curve of her lips no doubt gave away her amusement. “It has been less than twenty-four hours since you asked for my assistance.” She watched him scowl in response.

  “I assumed you would be able to speak with those involved between your classes yesterday.”

  “And I did,” she agreed amiably. “Today I will be going off campus to speak with yet more people.”

  His scowl cleared. “You’ve learned something?”

  She evaded his direct question. “I hope to learn more.”

  His scowl returned. “Need I remind you that your role is to protect the school?”

  “I disagree.” She watched disbelief fill his eyes. “My role is to learn the truth. Insomuch as members of the school community may be involved…”

  He held up a finger to make his point. “Exactly why you need to protect the school. The employees here must be above reproach at all times. If parents cannot trust their children to our care, there will be no school.”

  “Which is precisely why I must learn the truth,” she countered. “If there is any reason why parents cannot trust their children to our care it must be dealt with swiftly. Not swept under a rug.”

  He opened his mouth to argue then clenched it closed. “Very well.”

  “I may need to be off campus quite a bit,” she warned him.

  “If needs must. Carry on, Yeoman.”

  She watched him move away for a moment before continuing to Glennon Hall. She was hailed again as soon as she entered the building. This time, the voice surprised her. She couldn’t remember seeing Hazel outside of her kitchen at this hour before.

  “Is something the matter?” Delia checked her cousin’s face.

  “This death in the woods,” Hazel said quietly.

  “You’ve learned something?”

  Hazel tilted her head toward her kitchen. “I overheard something this morning. One of my girls. You’ve spoken with her before.” Hazel’s flattened lips made it clear she didn’t approve of the pattern that was emer
ging.

  Delia began moving with her. “Which girl?”

  “Winnie Moore.” Hazel led the way.

  Delia mentally brought up an image to go with the name. A tall sturdy girl, Winnie was peripherally involved with the death of Danny Haller. He was killed after hosting a party at an abandoned house. Winnie was one of the young girls who attended the party.

  Delia followed Hazel into the kitchen but placed her hand on her cousin’s arm once they reached it. She used her chin to point toward the long worktable where the other cooks were busy with preparations. Though the cleaning from breakfast was still underway, the cooks were already tackling the midday meal. There were empty cardboard boxes near the table as they removed the necessary ingredients from them.

  “I’ll take it from here.” Delia watched Hazel’s eyes narrow at her employee across the room.

  “She’s my responsibility,” Hazel said without taking her eyes from Winnie.

  “Which is why it is best I speak to her alone.” Delia tried to keep the humor from her voice. She knew the girls washing the dishes had a healthy respect for their supervisor. Hazel ran an orderly kitchen. “She is more apt to speak freely without you.”

  Hazel nodded once but her unhappiness at the decision was evident. She crossed over to the other cooks but periodically threw stern looks toward the dishwashers at the far end of the room.

  Delia dodged carts used to transport dinnerware and more cardboard boxes then stopped when she reached the young girl in question. “Hello, Winnie.”

  Winnie’s arms were immersed nearly to her shoulders in soapy water as she scrubbed at an oversized pot. Surprised eyes flew to Delia.

  Winnie’s surprise turned to concern. “Miss?”

  Delia took note of Winnie’s flushed face. She imagined it was from the hot water used to wash the pots.

  “I understand you may have information about the recent death at the state game preserve,” Delia said. She watched Winnie half turn toward Hazel before giving a tired shrug of indifference.

  “Not really.”

  “Winnie.” Delia’s voice held caution. “Perhaps if you simply tell me what you know?”

  Winnie continued working in silence for a few moments. “I don’t want to get anyone into trouble.”