Mystery at Glennon Hall

by R A Wallace

  “In Claude’s case, he’ll have a typewriting course for all three of the terms this year,” Faye explained.

  Delia quickly scanned the charts on the table then smiled at the young man in front of her. “It looks like you’ll have a busy year ahead of you.”

  “It shouldn’t be too bad,” Claude said with an easy smile. “If Miss King isn’t overly hard on us poor stenography students.”

  “Glennon Normal School is renowned for the quality of its graduates. We can’t have our excellent reputation besmirched for lack of stenography skills.” Faye finished writing Claude’s name next to his classes. “I think that does it.”

  Delia reached for the book list and passed it over to Claude. “See you in class.”

  She turned to the two young men in line behind Claude. They were engrossed in a heated discussion comparing the pitching abilities of Babe Adams and Walter Johnson.

  Claude gave a parting smile to Delia and Faye before dodging around the two young men.

  “Gentlemen?” Faye said loudly.

  One offered a mumbled apology as he stepped closer to the table.

  Faye handled the introductions. “Gentlemen, this is Miss Markham. Willie and Harry are also juniors and will be taking typewriting this year.”

  Delia smiled a greeting and reached for the charts. “Well, then. Let’s see what we have, shall we?”

  Chapter Five

  Wes lowered the newspaper when Otis appeared carrying a jacket from another room in the suite.

  “How is it the man is always so well informed?” Wes demanded.

  “Which man might that be?” Otis carefully hung the jacket across the back of a chair.

  “Admiral Hobart Jennings.” Wes rustled the paper to indicate the source of his questioning.

  “Ah, that man.” Otis eyed Wes’s shoes looking for scuff marks. “Rumor has it, the admiral has an enviable network of spies that rivals anything the Kaiser could boast.”

  Wes peered over the top of his newspaper. “Why are you fussing around like a wet hen?”

  Otis leveled his gaze on the relaxed man in the easy chair reading the morning paper. “In case you’ve forgotten, today is your first day as the principal of this fine school.”

  “Acting principal,” Wes muttered from behind the newspaper.

  Otis ignored him. “Everyone here from the lowest employee to the most esteemed faculty member will be seeing you in that role for the first time.”

  “I daresay there will be several members of the board and whatnot who will make an appearance as well.” Wes set the newspaper aside.

  “You see my point,” Otis said evenly.

  “I do indeed. What do we know about these people?”

  “What?”

  Wes motioned to the newspaper. “We need our own network of spies here at Glennon Normal School. I nominate you for the position.”

  Otis glanced at the side table. A crystal decanter and glass sat on a tray.

  Wes offered a wry smile. “No, I have not been into the Pennsylvania rye. I am quite serious, I assure you. If I’m to be the acting principal even for a short time, I want to know about the people that work here.” He pointed at Otis. “With your unique skills, I suspect you will have no problem ascertaining the necessary information.”

  Otis looked interested. “You won’t question how I come about the knowledge, then?”

  “Within reason.” Wes began to push himself up from the chair. “As long as I don’t have to deal with jealous husbands or shotgun weddings.” He pointed at Otis again. “And I need not tell you that all students are off limits.”

  Otis looked genuinely offended.

  Wes’s tone softened. “My apologies, old man.” He motioned toward the jacket. “I can’t even blame my ill mood on the fiend who shot me.”

  Otis lifted the jacket from the bed and held it out.

  Wes turned to slip his arms in. “I must say, whatever the potion the groundskeeper concocted, my wound feels better this morning than it has for days. I do believe I actually got some sleep last night.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Otis slid the jacket up onto Wes’s shoulders then checked for wrinkles again.

  “Perhaps my uncle was right about the man’s abilities with poultices.” Wes began buttoning the jacket.

  “I doubt your uncle was in need of this particular concoction.” Otis went around to Wes’s front to check on his progress with the buttons.

  Wes eyed him suspiciously. “Don’t tell me it was eye of newt and toe of frog?”

  “Hardly, though I will be sure to ask the man if he has any about, if you wish.” Otis picked up the newspaper. “It was Dakin’s solution. The one thing in short supply for a few hours when you most needed it at the front.”

  “What?” Wes turned from the mirror. “Wherever did he find that here?”

  “The man mixed it himself,” Otis said. “An admirable skill, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Indeed.” Wes shifted his assessment of the groundskeeper.

  “He did, however, recommend a poultice to apply at a later date.” Otis began moving toward the door at the sound of a light tapping. “I’ll be sure to ask Arch to add plenty of newt and toad.”

  Otis swung the door open. The young man on the other side had his hands clasped together holding a derby hat. He was smartly dressed in a crisp white shirt and tie under a light gray sack suit. His brown hair was parted above his right eyebrow. Though worn short on the sides, it was longer on the top and combed back. He looked momentarily tongue-tied as he shifted his gaze from Otis to Wes.

  Wes stepped forward. “Can I assume you are Bennie?”

  “Yes, Captain.” Bennie shifted nervously on his feet.

  “My manservant, Otis Hart,” Wes continued smoothly. He nodded at Otis. “Bennie will take over my care until this evening. You have your orders.”

  “To search out the newt,” Otis said amiably.

  Wes offered a mock scowl before following Bennie into the hallway. “It was kind of you to come to Glennon House to collect me.”

  “I thought you might like a tour of the campus with the students and faculty just arriving back.” Bennie stopped near the stairs and waited for an indication from Wes.

  “For the moment, we’ll keep to the elevator.” Wes moved toward it. “If you wouldn’t mind handling the controls.”

  “No, sir.” Bennie stepped inside and eagerly took charge.

  “I understand you volunteered for service.” Wes didn’t need to take another look at the young man’s neck. The swelling was visible.

  “Goiter, sir. The military doctor explained that they found a higher incidence of people in our area having it.”

  Wes was vaguely familiar with the term. “The goiter region.”

  “Near the Great Lakes,” Bennie agreed as he opened the elevator door to exit. “We can see many of the students and faculty at the gymnasium.”

  Wes thought back to his own college days. Though he hadn’t attended the normal school, he was sure the procedures were similar. “Signing up for classes.”

  “Exactly.” Bennie sounded pleased that the new principal was familiar with the practices of the school.

  “I understand you’ve been here since my uncle passed?” Wes nodded at a group of female students.

  They stopped talking as Wes and Bennie approached them. A spattering of laughter filled his ears after they passed them. He wondered briefly if he’d ever been that young and carefree.

  “Yes, sir. I have endeavored to keep the principal’s office functioning as much as my abilities allow,” Bennie said.

  “I am confident your ministrations were more than adequate.” Wes slowed his steps when he saw the groundskeeper. The man was surveying a small plot of landscaping near the walkway that led to the gymnasium.

  “Mr. Keaton.”

  Arch turned at the sound of his name.

  Wes stopped and held out his hand. “Thank you for the first night of sound sleep I’ve had in
many weeks.”

  Arch shook his hand. “I’ll have a poultice ready soon to follow it. It will help ease the healing at the wound site.”

  The image of a newt filled Wes’s mind as he began to move again. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  As they drew closer to the gymnasium, navigation around the clusters of students became more difficult. Bennie led the way into the building where some measure of organization was in place. Students formed lines that snaked between the long rows of tables.

  Bennie introduced Wes to a never-ending list of faculty and staff. Often, the young man fed Wes information about the people in advance before they reached them.

  “Clean-shaven gentleman on your right. He heads the commercial department,” Bennie said before they reached the table.

  Wes checked the line leading to the table that registered students for the commercial department. It was long indeed. Given how efficiently the women at the table were processing the students, he couldn’t attribute the number of students waiting to a lack of attention.

  “Professor Earl Gordon, meet Principal Wesley Glennon,” Bennie said as they stopped at the table.

  “Ah, I see you made it in time for the start of classes.” Professor Gordon shook hands with Wes then turned to make more introductions. “Some of the faculty in the commercial department. Misses Faye King and Delia Markham. This is Mr. George Ellis. He teaches commercial law and commercial geography for us.”

  Wes nodded at the man sporting a handlebar mustache and pointed Van Dyke beard then looked questioningly at the bespectacled woman who joined them at the table.

  “Our librarian, Miss Philomena Berman,” Bennie supplied.

  “Nice to make your acquaintance.” Wes looked around the group to include everyone in his comment then shifted to allow a couple of students pass by him. “No doubt we’ll be seeing a great deal of each other over the next few days.” He nodded before continuing the tour with Bennie.

  “Looks like a popular department,” Wes commented at they moved away.

  “The war has emphasized the importance of office skills,” Bennie agreed.

  Chapter Six

  Delia followed Mena into the dining hall for lunch and marveled again at the amount of work involved with feeding hundreds of people. The tables were all covered in fresh linens. The plates were neatly stacked at the far end of each table but the silverware was in place at each seat along with the other necessities of a meal including water glasses. There were colorful pitchers along with stacks of coffee cups at the end opposite from the plates.

  Delia imagined that the placement of each item was well considered in advance and modeled after the most efficient method of serving. Even as the thought occurred to her she saw young men and women moving through the dining hall with laden carts as everyone continued to file in and take their places. The hall filled with the buzz of voices.

  Mena stopped at a long table and took a seat. Delia followed suit and sat next to her as she continued to watch the activity. Above them dozens of chandeliers hung from the ceiling throughout. The light from them glinted off Mena’s oval spectacles.

  Rows of large columns ran down the length of the room supporting the high ceiling. She could hear snatches of conversations as students filed past them on their way to their own tables. Some continued into the annex that expanded the seating of the original dining hall. Several of the other teachers involved with the registration of classes slid into the seats around her.

  It took Delia several moments to realize that she recognized some of the servers from the morning. She leaned closer to Faye to be heard. “Is that two of our students?”

  Faye followed her gaze. “Willie and Harry. You met them this morning. They’re the two that couldn’t stop arguing.”

  “About baseball. Yes, I remember. They work here?”

  “Several students do, yes. Not just in the dining hall, of course. And there are full-time staff working in the dining hall as well. The students assist them.” Faye motioned to the other teachers sitting closest to her. “Have you met Mabelle Neff yet? She teaches domestic science.”

  “Many of my students work here after gaining experience in my classes,” Mabelle said with a smile as she reached for her table napkin.

  It reminded Delia that faculty were the exception to the rule as she reached for her own. Hazel had mentioned to her that, among other things, students were expected to bring their own table napkins to the school when they arrived for the term. Two more women took seats near them. Delia smiled a greeting.

  “I know you met Harriet this morning. She teaches bookkeeping.” Faye motioned to the woman next to Harriet.

  “I met Nurse Noble when Mena gave me a tour of the campus,” Delia said.

  “Please, call me Blanche. How is your first day?” Blanche shifted back in her seat as a student appeared beside her to fill her water glass.

  “I can only hope I haven’t signed everyone up for the wrong classes,” Delia said before joining in with the laughter of the others.

  Harriet leaned forward a little. “I didn’t have a chance to ask you about your time in the service. It must have been so exciting.”

  “Speaking of which, if you need assistance with your injury please don’t hesitate to stop by the hospital,” Blanche said.

  “It hardly bothers me at all. Really. I am quite well.” Delia smiled to show she meant it.

  “I still can’t believe the Navy was allowed to enlist women,” Harriet said.

  “I believe it was because no one ever considered it might happen, so they forgot to write it into the rules saying they couldn’t,” Faye said.

  Harriet leaned forward so she wouldn’t have to shout. “Would it be rude of me to ask about your injury?”

  “It was nothing.” Delia made a face indicating her clumsiness. “I walked into something.”

  Harriet’s eyes widened. “I imagine you were devasted when you had to leave the Navy for that.”

  More than she could ever know. Delia reached for her water glass as the student moved away with the pitcher. “I was merely a private secretary to an admiral. I spent much of my day at a typewriter. Some of my friends were radio operators or had other exciting jobs.”

  Harriet’s enthusiasm didn’t dim. “Did you have the chance to travel much?”

  Traveling to new places with the admiral and his wife was one of her favorite parts of the job. “Many of the female yeomen were assigned to one place.”

  “But you spent some time away from home?” Harriet insisted.

  “Yes. The admiral often had occasion to spend time in Washington.” Delia changed the subject as Harriet drew breath for another question. “Have you been teaching here long?”

  Harriet described her tenure at Glennon Normal School and her previous positions elsewhere. Delia listened to the conversation that flowed around her throughout the meal and managed to learn a little more about her new colleagues. Before long, everyone began to file out.

  “Ready for whatever the afternoon has to offer?” Faye asked. “With luck, the students signing up for classes this afternoon will be eager to complete the task as quickly as possible. No doubt, they’ve all made plans for the evening.”

  Delia nodded her agreement to get back to work as she felt someone at her elbow. She turned and recognized one of the young girls from the kitchen. It took her a moment to come up with the name.

  “Flo?”

  A flash of surprise filled Flo’s eyes. “Yes, miss. You have an excellent memory.” Flo took a step closer and lowered her voice. “Miss Hazel would like to speak with you in the kitchen.”

  “We’ll get started. You can join us when you’re free,” Faye said with a smile before catching up to Harriet.

  Delia felt her brows pull together as she followed Flo to the kitchen. Given Hazel’s pointed remarks about her place being with the faculty, she found the summons surprising. At first, she wondered at the timing. Surely, mealtime would be the most inopportune moment f
or Hazel to request her presence. As she neared closer to the kitchen, she realized that the cooking for the meal was complete. It was now the cleanup that commanded attention. Hazel would not partake in that.

  Hazel waited for Delia at the entrance to the kitchen. She nodded her thanks to Flo as the young girl slipped past her to return to her work. Hazel motioned for Delia to follow her.

  Delia did so in silence. When Hazel reached another room, she opened the door and motioned for Delia to enter first. Delia turned to face Hazel after stepping into the room and watched Hazel close the door firmly behind her.

  “I can only assume something must be very wrong.”

  Hazel pulled her apron up and wiped her hands. “I don’t know what else to do.”

  “You’re alarming me. Are you alright? Is something wrong?” Delia watched as Hazel began to move through the room.

  “This is one of the storage areas.” Hazel motioned at the rows of shelves around the room. There were also cupboards along the walls. “I believe some of it is missing.”

  Delia was about to ask Hazel what was missing when she realized the room was filled with food supplies. “Food? You think some of the food is missing?”

  Hazel nodded as she looked around the room. “I’m certain of it.”

  “Shouldn’t you call the watchman?”

  “What if it’s one of the students?” Hazel’s hand came up to her throat. “I don’t want to get anyone into trouble. Most especially not with the new principal. Who knows what he might do?”

  Delia thought of the man she’d seen in the gymnasium earlier as she examined the storeroom more closely. She wondered what his response would be to student mischief. Or worse. Perhaps they merely stole for pleasure.

  “What exactly is stored here?” Delia asked.

  Hazel reeled off a list of supplies moving about the large storeroom as she did. “And some of the flour is also stored here.”

  “Some?”

  “The bakery is in a different area,” Hazel explained absently. “They have a separate storage place that’s closer to them. This flour is for my kitchen.”