Lost Books and Old Bones

by Paige Shelton

  I nodded.

  “She was so sweet!” Sophie continued.

  Rena looked up at me. “She was killed outside the bookshop where you work.”

  It was both a question and a statement.

  “Yes, in the close next to the shop.”

  “We were talking about the bookshop with Dr. Eban. He said something about scalpels. Do you think he killed her?” Rena said.

  “I don’t have any idea, but I told the police all about that conversation. You’re still waiting for the police to talk to you?”

  “They said they’d be here soon,” Sophie said.

  “Just tell them what happened,” I said, though I wondered why Inspector Pierce hadn’t arrived yet or had Sophie and Rena go down to the station to give statements. He’d probably gone to talk to Dr. Eban first.

  Rena’s dry eyes seemed to move too quickly today. They usually sparkled with smooth wit and intelligence, but today they were jerky. “Sophie thinks she might have been the last person tae see Mallory alive, other than the killer.”

  “Yes! And I was all about me last night. My feelings, my stupid marks!” Sophie said. “I didn’t once ask how she was doing, or how she felt she did on the exam. I didn’t ask her anything about her.”

  “It’s normal to feel the guilt you’re feeling,” I said. I was going to add that since she didn’t kill Mallory she had nothing to worry about. But I didn’t know who killed Mallory. As sweet and kind as Sophie had been to me, I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure about anything.

  Sophie and Rena were sweet and smart women, though perhaps somewhat edgy, with a street savvy I didn’t possess. Still, the last person I’d seen Mallory with last night had been Sophie, and their cabdriver. It had also occurred to me that I didn’t actually know where Rena went after I got into my cab. I wasn’t suspicious of them, but it would only be normal to wonder.

  “Delaney’s correct, Sophie. We’ll just tell the police what we know. And you had nothing tae do with Mallory’s murder. You couldn’t hurt anyone. It’s not in you,” Rena said.

  “No, but I could have at least been a little less selfish,” Sophie said.

  “Do you remember what Mallory said to you on the ride home last night, maybe before she left your flat?” I said.

  “I’ve been trying!”

  “Try again,” Rena said.

  Rena and I were silent as we waited for Sophie to think. She put her fingers to her temples and closed her eyes tightly, and I remembered that she probably had a terrible headache stunting her thoughts and making her memory sluggish.

  She opened her eyes. “I can’t remember anything clearly. I wish I could. That’s how blootered I was.”

  Even with my very own pub owner, that’s one I hadn’t heard before. I held back a smile.

  Sophie had had too much to drink last night, but she’d also had coffee and a break before Mallory took her home. It was a stretch for me to think she couldn’t remember some things, but she didn’t seem to be lying.

  But maybe she was.

  “Rena, did you get home after or before Mallory left your flat last night?” I asked.

  “A few minutes after. Sophie was already fast asleep. I didn’t wake her up.”

  Sophie nodded absently, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts.

  As innately suspicious as I was, I could not sense even a tiny bit of murderous guilt in either of them. But I did sense guilt—which was probably normal under the circumstances. Even I felt guilty. I wished I’d done something different that might have prevented Mallory’s murder.

  “You guys know anything about her family?” I asked.

  “Her father, you mean?” Sophie sniffed.

  “Is his name Conn Clacher?” If Gaylord had represented Mallory’s father, then there was definitely a conflict of interest in him representing me and Tom.

  Rena frowned. “No. Boris. Boris Clacher. He’s a strategic director at the medical school. Part of the administration.”

  “Not Conn?”

  Rena and Sophie looked at each other. Sophie said, “No. Why?”

  “It’s not important.” I thought a moment. “Mallory lived in this building and she’s from here? Her father works in the medical school?”

  “Aye. He’s well respected. And, I get what you’re saying, but it’s best not tae live with family while you’re going tae medical school, if there are other options,” Rena said.

  That probably applied to all higher education.

  “You suppose Dr. Eban and Boris Clacher had a … strained relationship?” I said.

  “We were just talking about that. We aren’t aware of any problems, but Mallory mentioned that her father and Dr. Eban used tae be such good friends, about ten years ago. We asked her what happened tae make them less friendly. She didn’t answer us. We didn’t think much about it at the time, but we are going tae tell the police when they come by,” Sophie said.

  Rena nodded. “The police stopped by this morning, but didn’t question us. They just made sure we were okay. I think they talked tae one of the residents on the first floor about Mallory but I don’t know. The news spread from there. We didn’t even think tae tell the police ourselves that we were with her last night, but they called not long ago to inform us they were coming over again. We’ve been waiting. We guessed they figured out we were with her, but we weren’t trying tae hide the fact. We’ve been so stunned about everything.”

  I nodded again. “I told them. I didn’t have a moment to let you know they’d be getting in touch. I thought they would have talked to you by now.”

  “That makes sense,” Sophie said. She and Rena shared a glance. Were they bothered that I told the police about them? They didn’t seem to be. Sophie continued, “What else can you tell us? She was killed right next tae where you work. Did you find her?”

  “No, Hamlet and Rosie did. You’ve met them. I don’t know much more than that. It was tough.” Another well of tears tightened my throat, but I swallowed again.

  “That had tae be so terrible,” Sophie said.

  I pushed forward. “Did anyone not like Mallory? Did she have enemies?”

  “No!” they proclaimed at once.

  “Everyone loved her,” Rena said. “She worked very hard, studied all the time. She rarely went out, even on Fridays after an exam. We had tae beg her last night.” Now, her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away.

  My heart beat even heavier. I sighed and looked at my friends. They were unquestionably distraught. They weren’t faking it. But there was something else to their emotions or behavior, or both. I listened hard for my bookish voices, silently beckoning them to say something. Anything. What was I sensing about these two women?

  The voices had been so silent lately that I was surprised when one answered. One of my favorites, C.S. Lewis.

  Someday you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.

  Did someone in the room need to grow up, mature? Or was I grasping at so many straws that I’d been making up my own fairy tale? Impossible to interpret at the moment.

  “Do you think Dr. Eban might have had something to do with Mallory’s murder?” I asked. I hesitated, but only for an instant. “Lola, downstairs, mentioned an affair. Between Mallory and Dr. Eban.”

  They exchanged another look as I zoned in on Rena.

  “We can only speculate,” Sophie said, her voice so clear that I did a double take. She didn’t sound upset at all.

  “Delaney,” Rena piped up. She sat forward and looked at Sophie before she turned her attention back to me. “I … I made a mistake. There was nothing going on between Sophie and Dr. Eban.”

  “You were pretty sure last night.”

  “No, that’s not true. I told you that Sophie wasn’t sharing this part of her life with me and that I was guessing.”

  “It was just my marks, Delaney. I’m not doing well, and I’ve been worried. Rena turned it into something else,” Sophie said. And then she changed the subject. “We h
eard Mallory was suffocated.”

  Had the police released the cause of death?

  “I don’t know…”

  “Burke and Hare,” Sophie interjected. “That’s how they killed their victims.”

  “You think it might be a copycat Burke and Hare murder?” I said.

  “Not that so much, as … well, Dr. Eban, Delaney. We told you about his strange … adoration almost for the killers,” Sophie said.

  “Did they leave a skull behind with their victims?” I asked too quickly.

  The two women sat up. “What?” they said together.

  “There was a skull there?” Sophie said.

  “A skull?” Rena added.

  “Sorry. I don’t know how much the police are going to share, and my information is spotty at best. But did Burke and Hare leave bones behind?” I’d been caught off guard and I didn’t know how to get out of it.

  “Not that I know of,” Rena said, perplexed. “But there’s a skull room on campus, part of the medical school.”

  “I heard,” I said, at least keeping mum about the confirmation from Inspector Pierce that the skull had come from that room.

  “I’m sure Dr. Eban has full access tae it. We were given a tour our first year—the same day of our first dissection.” Rena fell into thought.

  “Dr. Eban is an extraordinary teacher, but he’s such an odd man,” Sophie said. “He might leave a skull behind at a murder scene.”

  “Tell the police you think he’s an odd man, of course, but they’ll want an explanation,” I said.

  They both nodded.

  “What did Mallory think of the books you brought to The Cracked Spine?” I asked.

  The two women worked way too hard not to look surprised by the question. Had I hit a sore spot?

  “She didn’t see them,” Rena said with a clipped tone.

  “No,” Sophie said.

  I nodded. “Had Dr. Eban?”

  “He didn’t see them either. Why?” Rena asked.

  “No reason, really. It’s just that right after you brought them in, we got a call from someone looking to buy them if we had any.”

  “Interesting timing,” Sophie said.

  They wondered why I’d brought up the books. I didn’t want to tell them about my entire conversation with Edwin, but I took note of their surprise.

  “I know, right?” I said. “Edwin hasn’t sold them yet. I’m not sure he’ll ever be able to part with them. He wanted me to send you his gratitude again.”

  “Oh, well, thank him again for buying them,” Rena said.

  I nodded. “Rena, you were concerned for your own safety last night. I feel like there’s more to that.”

  Their surprise about the books didn’t even compare with the surprise, almost shock, that lifted their eyebrows.

  Rena frowned at me as Sophie looked at her roommate. “You were concerned for your safety?”

  Rena shook her head. “I was being way too dramatic. Too much gin, I suppose.”

  Sophie opened her mouth to say something else but was silenced by another look from Rena, this one demanding that Sophie stay silent.

  Like can happen with longtime, good friends, a silent but forceful communication moved between the two of them. They were in everything together; college, flunking out the first time, trying again, and then medical school. In that moment, they were reaffirmed as a team. It was them against me. I could see it, and I could feel it in the air.

  “Okay,” I said. There were also lies in the air, but I had no way of knowing which parts were false and which were true. I hoped the police could wade their way through and find some answers. And, I hoped the three of us could get past this icy moment I’d somehow brought on.

  Rena stood. “We need … tae get back tae things, Delaney. Thanks for coming by.”

  It was an awkward end to our conversation, but I didn’t argue. I realized that maybe my stopping by their flat hadn’t been such a good idea. In fact, it might lead to interference with the police investigation of the murder; I’d prepared them for things the police might question them about. They’d probably prepared anyway, but I’d just given them a big heads-up.

  They were intelligent women.

  There are friendships that can survive moments of strife. The three of us hadn’t known each other long enough for sustainability to have become an element of our friendship. I hoped that once the truth about Mallory’s murder became clear, we could resume where we left off, but I sensed an obvious shift. I’d said or asked too much, or both.

  I hoped they didn’t have anything to do with Mallory’s murder. I didn’t believe they did, but I did think they knew something that might help the police find the killer. They had secrets. Didn’t we all?

  After rushed words of goodbye, Rena shut the door to the flat with a forced gentleness. I looked down the empty hallway and thought about what I should do next.

  One idea came to me immediately.

  NINE

  About a month ago, sparked by the books Sophie and Rena had brought in, Edwin and I discussed notable University of Edinburgh Medical School alumni. Charles Darwin and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had both studied and graduated from the esteemed school. Darwin hadn’t surprised me, but Sir Arthur had. After learning the news, Sherlock Holmes’s bookish voice had been in my head for days.

  Once I left my friends’ flat with a destination in mind, Mr. Holmes spoke to me again, in his British accent but in a disjointed stream of sentences that overlapped and became convoluted in my head. I could have probably focused enough to stop them if I wanted to, but as the words bobbed up from my subconscious, I molded them into a rhythm that was both comforting and pleasant. When I spotted Professor Eban’s name on the small marquis board that listed the office room numbers of the medical school professors, most of the voices fell away, leaving me with a singular sentence.

  You know my methods, Watson.

  It wasn’t appropriate for me to have any “methods” when it came to seeking answers to a murder, but I couldn’t deny my need to search for answers, so there I was, at the university, moving through the front doors of a building full of classrooms and offices, contemplating the best way to conduct myself to get some answers. Though it was Saturday, the building was unlocked, but in the few minutes I’d been there I hadn’t seen anyone else.

  Like almost every other place I’d seen in Edinburgh, and other parts of Scotland too, the medical school’s buildings were beautiful architecturally and sprinkled with a magic that made me think of castles and knights in shining armor. Never mind that knights in shining armor had been in England, not Scotland (Hamlet had reminded me of this more than once when my daydreams were inaccurate), the stone structures took me back to a time of lords and ladies, and discoveries like the earth being round and penicillin.

  The university was established in 1726, but the Royal College of Physicians had been teaching medicine in Edinburgh since the early sixteenth century. Between my own research and what I’d found in one of the books Sophie and Rena had brought in, I knew that the history of medicine in Scotland had begun with potions, spells, and amulets many centuries earlier. Somewhere along the way I’d read about Burke and Hare and their horrific crimes and how important, ultimately, the study of corpse anatomy had been to the advancement of all medicine. Fortunately, the methods of obtaining bodies for study had become less murderous over time.

  As the centuries had passed, the Edinburgh Medical School had become world-renowned. Studying medicine wasn’t in my future, but I had a deep respect for those who had the calling to do so. As I set off down the long hallway toward Dr. Eban’s office, I spent a moment already missing what my friendship with Sophie and Rena had become and their sharing of some of the things they learned. If I couldn’t find it in me to be a doctor, at least I liked to hear about what future doctors were learning.

  I hoped we’d be okay.

  Education never ends, Watson. It is a series of lessons, with the greatest for the last.

&
nbsp; “Got it, Sherlock. Thank you,” I said quietly as I zeroed in on Dr. Eban’s office door.

  I debated knocking, but didn’t. Instead, I put my hand on the knob as I tried to formulate what I would say to him if he was there.

  I finally shrugged and decided I’d just go with whatever happened.

  But the door was locked.

  “Can I help you?” a woman asked from over my shoulder.

  “Hello, yes, I’m looking for Dr. Eban,” I said as I jumped in my skin and then turned.

  “He’ll not be in today,” she said. “Are you a student?”

  “A friend,” I said. It was a lie, of course, but this stately woman with importantly styled gray hair was probably a professor. She knew I wasn’t a student even as she’d asked the question.

  “I see,” she said as her eyes bored into mine. Hers were intelligent, inquisitive eyes that matched her hair.

  Her scrutiny was uncomfortable, but unwarranted, I thought, so I stood my ground and tried not to back away.

  “Aye,” she said as she cocked her head. “He’ll not be in. In fact, many of our office hours are canceled for the day. We’ve had a tragedy.”

  “I’m so sorry. What happened?” I asked.

  “A death in the family. Of sorts,” she said. “Are you a new friend of Dr. Eban’s?”

  “Well, I suppose, yes. I didn’t meet him all that long ago.”

  “And you’re not a student? Or a prospective student?”

  “No, neither.”

  When I didn’t go on, and after she’d sized me up some more, she continued, “I’m Dr. Eban’s wife.”

  “Oh!” I said reflexively. Hadn’t Sophie and Rena described her as fierce? That would have been one of the words I’d have used too, even before she’d introduced herself. However, they’d been complimentary, I thought, and I was glad to meet this intelligent and fierce woman. A plan came together in my mind. It wasn’t a perfect plan, as I would soon find out, but it was better than nothing. “I … Yes, we met recently. I’m friends with some medical students. I work at a bookshop, and I was coming by to ask his advice on some old medical books. My boss is looking to sell the books, and since Dr. Eban is the only person I know here, I decided to begin with him. I thought he could direct me appropriately. You know, to an expert who could tell me more about the books.”