Death With Dostoevsky

by Katherine Bolger Hyde

  That speech elicited a tiny smile from Daniel. ‘All right, Professor, I’ll take whatever scrap of hope you want to offer me. Now is there anything else I can help with? Besides the stuff I don’t, and probably won’t, remember?’

  ‘There are a couple of things. Did you make an appointment with Curzon for ten-thirty Monday night?’

  ‘An appointment? Are you joking? Oh, Professor Curzon, put me down in your book for ten-thirty. I’m going to stop by and kill you.’ He gave a hollow laugh.

  ‘It’s just that your initials are in her book for that time. Never mind, it’s not important. But the other thing could be.’ She’d have to tread carefully here so as not to violate Colin’s proscription, but she felt compelled to ask. ‘You know that Bronze Horseman statue you had in the library?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. My talisman. What about it?’ His tone and expression revealed no consciousness of the significance of the question.

  ‘Do you remember it going missing at any time?’

  ‘Missing? No. And I would remember, because I touch it every time I sit down to start work.’

  ‘When was the last time you worked at that table?’

  ‘I don’t know, the days are running together in my mind … I guess Saturday? Yeah, that’s right. I was there till closing time Saturday night. Then I spent Sunday at a Russian film festival downtown. They were showing a miniseries of The Idiot. And Monday I was too out of it to work.’

  So the statue must have been stolen on Sunday, not before. Surely there was some way to find out who had been in the library that day. She grasped at this straw of progress.

  ‘Why are you asking about the statue, anyway?’ he said.

  She cast about for an excuse that wouldn’t give the game away. ‘I just happened to notice it was missing and wondered what became of it. Nothing to worry about – I expect Svetlana took it for safekeeping.’ She’d better extricate herself before she said too much. ‘I need to get back. But you’ve given me more to go on than you realize.’

  He shrugged; his mouth quirked in bafflement. ‘If you say so. Glad to be of service.’ He grimaced. ‘What I really mean, of course, is thank you. I don’t know why you’re taking such an interest in me, but I do appreciate your faith in me. Really.’

  He stood, and Emily stood also. ‘Give my love to Svetlana. And tell her … if I never get out of here, tell her to get on with her life. Not to let her father bully her into settling. Tell her to be the dancer and the amazing woman she was meant to be.’

  ‘There won’t be a need. You’ll be able to tell her yourself. Just have faith. Not in me, but in God. He will not allow you to be falsely convicted.’

  ‘Sure. Whatever you say.’ His defeated half-smile tore at Emily’s heart. If only he really did have some sort of faith to carry him through. She would have to have enough for both of them.

  A uniformed officer led Daniel out, and Colin came back to the table to meet her. ‘Did you get what you wanted?’

  ‘I got something very interesting indeed. We need to talk.’

  Colin took her back to the room where she’d looked at the photos. ‘What do you have to tell me?’

  ‘I was asking Daniel if he could remember anything at all, and he said no. But he told me, as he told you, that he’d wanted her dead. Then he said he could see himself going to her office – and strangling her. Not bashing her over the head with a statue – strangling her. I even asked him about that specifically, and he said he thought strangling was a fitting end for a woman like her.’

  Colin frowned. ‘OK, but that could just be him foxing. Maybe he actually does remember doing it, but he’s trying to make it look like a false confession.’

  ‘You’re getting too convoluted. I really believe his memory loss is sincere. He’s so open about his thoughts and whatnot before the blackout time. And on top of that, I asked him about the statue – only when he last remembered seeing it, nothing connected with the murder – and he looked at me as if I’d completely lost the plot, as if there could be no possible connection between the statue and anything we’d been talking about. I wish you could have seen his face. A complete blank.’

  ‘Yeah, I wish I could have seen his reaction for myself too.’ He frowned at her in reproach. ‘So what did he say? About when he last saw the statue?’

  ‘It was Saturday. He stayed till closing time, and he hasn’t been back to the library since. So that means it had to have been taken on Sunday.’

  ‘Presuming he’s telling the truth, yeah. Well, all this is very interesting and suggestive and all that, but it still isn’t evidence of either Daniel’s innocence or anybody else’s guilt.’

  ‘I know. I’ll keep ferreting. Especially about who could have taken the statue.’

  ‘I don’t suppose there are any security cameras in the library?’

  ‘No. Bede’s on an honor system. Bedies are too independent to stand for that.’

  ‘Of course.’ Colin sighed. ‘These Bede people seem like a different species sometimes. But I shouldn’t say that – you’re one of them, and you’re relatively normal. I mean – at least I can understand what you’re talking about most of the time.’

  Emily smiled. ‘You should hear me when I get going about Dostoevsky. But I’ll spare you that for now.’

  SEVENTEEN

  Given the absence of security cameras in the Bede library and her own lack of psychic powers, Emily could not immediately think of a way to find out who had been in the library on Sunday before three o’clock. She went back to consult Miranda again.

  She found the librarian in her office. Today she was wearing royal blue leggings and a white T-shirt topped by a knee-length, handkerchief-hemmed black vest adorned with huge, brightly colored appliquéd flowers. A black beret, blue bandanna neckerchief, and fuchsia flats completed the outfit.

  When her eyes had adjusted to the blast of color, Emily said, ‘I need your help again, Miranda. Daniel was working here until closing time Saturday night, and he knows the statuette was there the whole time. So it must have been taken on Sunday before you did your walkabout. Can you think of any way to find out who was in the south stacks during that time?’

  Miranda pouched her lips in thought. ‘Not the south stacks in particular, and not everyone who was in the library. But we could start by seeing who checked anything out that day. If none of them looks likely, you could ask them all who else they saw while they were here.’

  Emily’s heart sank at the possible enormity of that task. Talking to random people she didn’t know was right up there on her list of dreaded activities along with attending crowded sports functions and killing spiders. But professional detectives had to do it all the time, so an amateur sleuth would have to accept the burden at least occasionally. ‘OK, if that’s what we’ve got, I’ll go with it.’

  Miranda led her to the front desk, where she commandeered a computer and typed for a minute before producing a printed list. ‘This would normally be confidential information, but I haven’t listed what materials each patron checked out, and since it is a murder inquiry … well, hopefully they’ll understand.’

  ‘Thanks, Miranda. I owe you one.’

  ‘No, you don’t. I’m doing this for Daniel.’

  Emily sat at a table and perused the list, which filled about half a page. Naturally neither Saul Goldstein nor Douglas Curzon was on it, since they were not affiliated with the college and did not have borrower’s privileges. She looked closely for any mention of Taylor Curzon, Richard McClintock, or any other staff member or student associated with the case. She came up blank on that, but she did see the name of one faculty member she was at least acquainted with – Teresa Rivera, the Spanish professor. She headed over to Vollum to see if she could find Teresa in her office.

  Teresa’s door was open, and she sat at her desk facing the doorway. Teresa was a sociable sort who liked to be accessible for her students and keep up with what was going on. In fact, Emily was rather surprised she hadn’t made her
presence felt in the whole to-do surrounding Taylor in the last couple of weeks.

  She knocked on the open door, and Teresa raised her tousled gray head. ‘Emily! How lovely to see you! Come in.’ She piloted her electric wheelchair out from behind the desk and came to meet Emily, free hand outstretched. ‘It has been far too long. How are you?’

  ‘Well enough myself, thanks. But I’m kind of in the middle of this murder inquiry. In fact, that’s why I’m here.’

  ‘You? In the middle of a murder inquiry? But why? How?’

  ‘It’s a long story. I was working with some other people to get Taylor sanctioned for all her sexual misconduct, and the young man who’s been arrested was a kind of protégé of mine. I’m convinced he’s innocent, but the detective in charge doesn’t want to “waste” resources continuing to investigate when he already has the man he thinks is guilty.’

  ‘I see.’ Teresa clucked sympathetically. ‘I would not like to think any of our students – or professors – could be guilty of murder. But that which is important is the truth, no? What can I do to help?’

  ‘I’m trying to figure out who was in the south stacks on the main floor of the library on Sunday before three p.m. It’s probably best if I don’t say why.’

  ‘Of course. I did go to the library on Sunday, right after lunch. But I was not in those stacks, and I did not stay long.’

  ‘Did you happen to see Richard or Taylor there?’

  ‘Mmm … no, I do not think so.’

  ‘Any students you recognized?’

  ‘Only my thesis student, Anna Gomez. I stopped by her desk to check on her.’

  ‘Where is her desk?’

  ‘South stacks, lower level.’

  ‘What about a couple of men you wouldn’t recognize as belonging to Bede? Both middle-aged, probably wearing suits. One short, pudgy, balding, dyspeptic-looking, the other tall, suave, and handsome.’

  ‘Together?’

  ‘No, either one separately.’

  Teresa screwed up her eyes in thought. ‘I think I may have seen the first one. The dyspeptic one. He pushed by me in a hurry, bumped into my chair and made me drop my books. He did not even apologize, let alone offer to help me pick them up.’

  That sounded like Goldstein. Emily’s pulse raced. A lead at last. ‘Was he headed in or out at the time?’

  ‘Out, I think. I had just checked out my books and was heading for the exit, and he came up from behind me. But I stopped to pick up my things, so I did not see where he went from there.’

  ‘Did you notice whether he was carrying anything?’

  ‘Ahh … yes, I think he was carrying a briefcase. In fact, that is probably what he bumped me with.’ She shook her head. ‘What a boor.’

  Emily tried to picture Saul Goldstein’s briefcase and Daniel’s statuette. Would the statue fit inside the briefcase? The height would probably fit, but she couldn’t be sure about the width of the base. But still, it was a lead. She’d pass it on to Colin and let him take it from there.

  ‘Thanks, Teresa. You’ve been a great help.’

  ‘Any time. But you know, that is not what I expected you to ask about.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘I keep thinking someone is going to ask me about what I might have seen here in Vollum on the night of the murder.’

  Emily started. ‘The police didn’t ask you that?’

  Teresa shrugged. ‘I was out that morning, when you discovered the body. That is when they went around and talked to everyone. I thought they would come back to question me later on, but they never did.’

  Emily set her lips. She’d have a word or two to say to Colin when she talked to him next. Although it was probably Wharton’s fault more than his. ‘Did you see anything interesting?’

  ‘Most certainly, yes. I saw a man go into Taylor’s office. In fact, it may have been that other man you mentioned – the suave one. I expected him to go to Marguerite’s office – he looked like her type. A great deal too old for Taylor.’ She gave a wry smile.

  An embarras de richesse. Surely Goldstein and Douglas couldn’t have been in on it together? As far as Emily knew, they hadn’t even met. ‘What time was this?’

  ‘Oh, dear. Almost never do I look at the clock. But I was just getting ready to leave, so maybe … eleven?’

  That sounded very incriminating indeed. No wonder Douglas had lied about his alibi if he was here within the exact time window determined for the murder.

  ‘Did you see the man come out again?’

  ‘No. I left within five minutes. But I heard raised voices as I passed the door.’

  ‘This is incredibly important, Teresa. You’re going to have to report that directly to the police. I’ll be talking to one of the junior detectives – should I tell him to call on you?’

  ‘Certainly. I can check “being interviewed by the police” off my bucket list.’ She laughed, then sobered. ‘Seriously, though, I am so happy you came by. I never realized I had such important information.’

  Emily thanked her again and left, marveling at how Teresa could have failed to come forward by this time with her knowledge about Douglas. But then, not everyone had been close to a murder before, as Emily had. Maybe Teresa didn’t even watch detective shows.

  Emily found a quiet corner in the faculty lounge and called Colin. ‘I found a witness for you.’

  ‘What sort of witness?’

  ‘One you should have found for yourself, actually. She was in Vollum the night of the murder. And she was also in the library on Sunday afternoon.’

  ‘Holy cow. I thought we’d interviewed everyone in Vollum.’

  ‘She wasn’t there on Tuesday morning when your people went door to door. And apparently no one ever thought to get back to her.’

  Colin groaned. ‘I wanted to check back to see if we’d missed anyone, but Wharton said it was a waste of time since we had Daniel. Who is this witness? What did she see?’

  ‘Teresa Rivera, the Spanish professor. She saw two things that don’t necessarily fit together. On Sunday after lunch, she saw a man who looked like Saul Goldstein leaving the library in a hurry carrying a briefcase.’

  ‘He could have just been looking for his daughter.’

  ‘Svetlana said they were together all weekend. Obviously not every minute, since she wasn’t with him right then, but it didn’t sound like he’d have had to go looking for her in the middle of the day.’

  ‘OK, I’ll follow up on that. And Monday night?’

  ‘This is the really interesting part. Teresa is not big on keeping track of time, but just as she was getting ready to leave for the night – which she thinks was around eleven – she saw a man matching Douglas Curzon’s description go into Taylor’s office. She left a few minutes later, and she could hear raised voices as she passed the door.’

  ‘Well, well, well. That is very interesting. So our Douglas did not go to bed early like a good little boy. I will definitely be looking into this.’

  ‘And you will talk to Teresa yourself, won’t you? She’s looking forward to it. Says it’s on her bucket list to be interviewed by the police.’ Emily rolled her eyes, which of course Colin couldn’t see.

  He snorted. ‘Right. I’ll go see her right away. What are you going to do now?’

  ‘I feel like I’m kind of at a dead end with regard to the murder, unless you can think of anything else I should do.’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Then maybe I’ll tackle a matter of internal college business I’ve put on hold. That plagiarism accusation against Richard McClintock.’

  ‘If you’re going to talk to McClintock, I should be there. In case it turns out to be related.’

  ‘No, I’m going to talk to Marguerite, see if we can verify Taylor’s claim. I’ll let you know what we find out.’

  EIGHTEEN

  Emily needed Marguerite as her ally in dealing with the plagiarism accusation, but she thought it would be better to discuss the matter away from campus and its possibl
y prying ears. She stopped by Marguerite’s office on the way out of the building.

  ‘Have you had lunch yet?’

  ‘Not yet. I was just going.’

  ‘Come to Baumgartner’s with me. We need to talk’ – she lowered her voice – ‘about Richard.’

  Marguerite nodded sagely, and they set off. As they walked, Emily filled her friend in on the investigation, which they had not yet properly discussed.

  ‘Chérie, I know you are fond of Daniel, but do you not think all this evidence is convincing? I do not see how you can still insist on his innocence.’

  ‘If you’d been there when I talked to him in jail, you’d understand. He was genuinely clueless about the actual method of murder.’

  ‘But if he does not remember …’

  ‘He doesn’t, but he imagined it over and over beforehand, and he imagined it completely differently. He was going to strangle her.’

  Marguerite shrugged. ‘That is suggestive, but – up against everything else, I do not think it is conclusive. All the actual evidence falls into line.’

  ‘Yes, don’t you see? It falls in too neatly. If it were genuine, it would be messier. I’m convinced it’s all been staged. Someone is setting Daniel up. I think it’s Goldstein.’

  ‘Even though Douglas was seen in her office that night?’

  ‘That does need to be accounted for, certainly. After that scene we overheard I could see him killing Taylor, but he would have no reason to implicate Daniel. Douglas as the murderer wouldn’t make sense of everything else – the statue, the blood, the appointment book, Daniel being seen in the building. But someone trying to frame Daniel could have arranged all of that. And Goldstein’s the only one with a motive to do it.’

  ‘Hmm. You may be right. Many people hated Taylor, but Daniel no one hates. Though I personally find him annoying. I do not care for that self-martyring type.’

  ‘But you have to admit, martyrs are rarely murderers.’

  ‘C’est vrai.’

  They’d arrived at the restaurant, so they got their food and adjourned to a table. ‘Now, what shall we do about Richard?’ Marguerite asked as she forked up a bite of salad.