Formula for Murder

by Judith Mehl

  Mark’s old guard days came to fore as he visually searched the area for anyone out of place. Weary travelers watched the carousel jerk to one more halt. Covello must be having a lucky day, he mused, as the professor’s battered suitcase immediately made it’s way around to their side of the conveyor.

  Nick arrived and briskly shook hands. “I’m Nick Donnelly, acting director of public relations and here to welcome you on behalf of the president. Delighted you could come and enlighten the campus.”

  Michael returned the handshake aggressively and laughed. “I doubt if there will be too many light bulbs flashing when I speak but I’m happy to throw some illumination out for the few interested. I also have some down to earth analogies for the stragglers who are kind enough to show up despite the topic.”

  They walked across the median to the short-term parking. Michael basked in the sunshine and was in no hurry to rush to the car. “What marvelously crisp weather. And sun. Couldn’t ask for more. I’ve just come from England.”

  Mark took that as a cue and informed the professor of the situation on campus. Michael didn’t hesitate, walking sharply forward as if murder was on the agenda every day. He seemed more intrigued with the situation than annoyed. He popped off one question after another, keeping Nick and Mark busy sugarcoating answers.

  Thanks to Nick’s quick call, Kat was ready with Richard Burrows and the security guard assigned to the speaker when the Covello entourage entered Nick’s office. Mark introduced Michael to Karl Peterson, the security guard, and excused himself. Karl chatted with the professor for a couple of minutes and then retreated to the background. Covello seemed to take to the tall Swede, which would make the close relationship easier. Nick wasn’t positive a guard was called for, but the university needed to provide a strong image of protection.

  Burrows produced the journal and explained what insights he hoped to find. Michael leapt at the challenge, his eyes sparkling as he questioned Burrows, Raub, and Nick in turn on details.

  “We’ve put you in a campus apartment, just a few blocks from here. You have a little time before the other professors gather to meet you.” As he spoke, Nick opened the door and motioned Santora in. “Simon, Michael Covello. Michael, this is Simon Santora, the chair of the chemistry department. He’s responsible for your visit here and will give you the day’s itinerary.”

  The boisterous conversation a few minutes later drifted out of Nick’s office with them, leaving Nick and Kat to breathe a sigh of relief that the first step was over. As she left, Nick walked behind his desk and casually said, “By the way, I invited Sloan to sit at the head table with us tonight at the dinner. I’ll pick her up in the limo and meet you at Michael Covello’s apartment at 6:30; we’ll all drive to the dinner together, OK?”

  Kat’s hackles rose and her right eyebrow jumped up before she could control it but Nick was studiously looking at his desk and fortunately didn’t notice. “I’ll be there, boss.” It was the best she could manage without showing her claws, and quickly busied herself at her own desk. She was seeing red for so long that she at first didn’t notice the nondescript envelope tucked beneath the top article. It wasn’t really buried in the rubble, just hidden enough to not be obvious at first. She knew she hadn’t left it there. Maybe someone had brought it in while she’d been out. Strange. No name on it. Kat ripped it open viciously, picturing the killer getting his kicks tormenting her. The note startled her from her reverie.

  It was a very polite threat, as threats go, but the intent was clear, nonetheless, at least to her because it was handwritten. She was to back off. It was malevolent rather than spiteful; full of hatred rather than mischief. The part that said, “The police won’t catch me. I’ve done nothing wrong,” made no sense to her. Was this really Charlie’s killer threatening her? If so, how could he claim no wrongdoing? Did the prolonged ending strokes reveal tenacity and determination—to do what?

  Maybe it was just someone who hated her, but then the reference to the police was unclear. Besides, she’d been avoiding anything even remotely adventurous to mollify Nick. And his tacky move with Sloan just proved how little that accomplished. He obviously didn’t want to “guard” her any more. She’d noticed he’d become busier lately and less inclined to linger and drive her back to his place for dinner or whatever. So be it. There was no way she’d bother him with this note. He was too taken with the blatant seductress Sloan to want her more subtle relationship. Why else would she be accompanying them? It looks like I wasted that $250 on a dress he won’t even be looking at, she fumed to herself while trying to look like she was working.

  Kat decided to keep this note to herself. Burrows hadn’t found anything useful on the last one. Pestering him would be a waste of time. Besides, he and Nick would find some way to blame her again for doing something to instigate it. She’d just set it aside and think about it for a while. Apparently she was missing some of the nuances here. She had no clue what she was supposed to “back off” from. She certainly hadn’t been doing much in the way of investigation lately. Maybe it was time to step up those efforts. Patience was definitely not her strongest attribute.

  It wasn’t long into the evening when Kat saw the wisdom of Nick’s gesture. He had seated Sloan next to Michael and commented quietly to Kat. “That should keep both of them occupied.”

  She decided to be a little mellower in her attitude towards him. Kat had donned her newest shimmering blue gown after all and practically killed herself fitting in a new hairdo after work, only to have Nick throw her a passing glance when she got in the limousine. He’d been too busy listening to Sloan next to him in the front seat to barely mumble hello.

  But now, settled into their seats at a round banquet table in one of the finer restaurants, Kat was attempting to be generous in her thinking. It helped that Nick was doing more than glancing at Kat, and his looks were sizzling the sequins off the dress.

  The trip through the lobby with its Brazilian tile and Italian marble was an elegant experience. The motif followed through in the small discreet dining areas—the repeat of the marble, accented with imported brass, a perfect setting for the Northern Italian cuisine.

  She sat back to let the sight and sounds of the famed restaurant sooth her senses. The scents of oregano and garlic, olive oil and tomato sauce wafting from the kitchen were mouth-watering in their intensity, and Kat hoped the fare was worthy of their Italian guest. The other guests emitted light laughter but were restrained in the noisemaking. It seemed the perfect place to Kat. Covello seemed to agree. He had savored the menu like a fine wine, reading each offering as if it were a sacrifice to the gods.

  “Look at this, they have Veal Saltimbocca alla Florentina. I just love that scaloppini veal with prosciutto. Oh, and they have pork chops Calabrese too. I can smell those peppers and onions already.”

  Once they ordered he drove the conversation with anecdotes of colleagues’ experiments gone awry. Sloan practically drooled over the man, though he didn’t seem to mind, easing his tales into the more and more hilarious when he saw how they enthralled her. Kat snidely thought that Sloan would have clung to him like that if he hadn’t even opened his mouth, but then Kat realized cattiness had jumped to the fore when she wasn’t looking. She smiled sweetly at Nick and engaged Karl, the bodyguard, in conversation briefly until the topic at the table drifted to horses. Karl, Sloan, and Michael traded secrets, each having ridden for years.

  They drifted from the dinner to the lecture hall and gave Covello some space so he could compose his thoughts. Nick and Kat staffed the doors, welcoming guests and keeping an eye out for dignitaries. A personal greeting at these events made them feel more at home, and part of a campus visited only for the occasional perks and momentary nostalgia.

  Kat hoped their memories would remain sentimental, unmarred by violence.

  Chapter 23

  Will the ‘t’s give them away? How a person crosses the lower case ‘t’s can reveal level of confidence, dominance, and energy.

>   “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Handwriting Analysis” by Sheila Lowe

  Thoughts of murder marked the forefront of Kat’s thoughts as she turned to see Maria and Carlos coming up the long walk to the entrance. She held her unsubstantiated fears at bay and merely pointed the couple out to Nick with a discreet aside. He hid his deep interest with a casual glance. “Boy she does look frail doesn’t she?”

  Kat deftly turned her frown into a smile when she swung around to greet Carlos and Maria. She introduced them to Nick. Carlos didn’t look Kat in the eye, a gesture that wasn’t lost on Kat. He did mumble a polite hello past her shoulder, then centered his attention on Nick. He welcomed him to the college and requested, very discreetly, some seats, quickly, and near the rear because this was the first time Maria had been out in months and she appeared to be wearying rapidly.

  After Nick showed them the appropriate seating, he and Kat had a brief reprieve. The early birds were all in and the latecomers were fashionably rushing around outside.

  Watching Maria settling in, Nick commented, “My first impression is that she’s not all there.”

  “I got that impression too. But you can’t possibly realize what she’d been just months ago. Kat explained her involvement in finding grants and internships for minority students, while carrying a full class load and heading the Women’s Special Studies Program.

  “How long has she been married to Carlos?”

  “A few years. It’s a strange relationship.”

  “How so?”

  “She was such a domineering person but Carlos seemed to be fine with that. He was always reserved anyway.”

  Nick glanced at Carlos, noticing how solicitous he was of Maria now, taking her jacket, placing her purse on his lap, attempting to make her more comfortable. “He must be very confused now. I wonder why they came tonight?”

  “Maria helped set up the internship for Anita Clarkson with Santora. She’s very proud of the work Anita has done here and Anita was instrumental in arranging for Covello to come and speak. She could be here for support, or because I sent her a personal invitation, or because of something more sinister according to Louise. Remember how she thought Maria was fit to kill Charlie?”

  “Now, Louise didn’t say ‘fit to kill’; she said she thought Maria had cause. That’s something else entirely.”

  Eyeing Sloan sauntering down the aisle from backstage, Kat quickly motioned Nick toward some seats. She said, “Let’s sit over here before there aren’t any good seats left.” Sloan looked like she was ready to switch allegiance to Nick but Kat boldly tucked her hand in his arm and tugged him toward two chairs near the aisle. Sloan arched her elegant eyebrows expressively than settled passively with one of the professors. Karl lingered offstage with Covello.

  Plaid flannels, baseball caps, and jeans intermingled with broomstick skirts, knit tanks, and clunky shoes as groups of students filtered into the auditorium like flocks of geese. The chatter, though incomprehensible from a distance, sounded on an upbeat chord as the students settled into their seats. Amazed that they could go about their everyday business as if nothing had happened, Kat studied the audience. Other students drifted in silently, and found seats amongst the few interested members of the community. High school students had arrived in two buses earlier and had grabbed prime seats.

  Never concerned with timeliness, more college students rushed in as the clock struck eight. Some might be curious, some intrigued, but none were so much in awe that they’d miss a minute of their precious evening claiming early seats in an auditorium that lacked a capacity audience.

  Kat watched and counted and was just glad they were there at all. She always felt a certain amount of embarrassment when speakers came and faced empty seats throughout an auditorium. Simon introduced Michael to a round of applause and gave a brief synopsis of his work and career. “Michael H. Covello, awarded the Nobel Prize in chemistry for his work in intramolecular dynamics, is here today to tantalize you with the future role of chemistry in our daily lives.

  “Though his work these days is the exploration of intramolecular dynamics and electron transfer reactions, he started out long ago on another front. At the age of seven he showed unflagging enthusiasm for scientific inquiry, expressing not a hint of self-suppression as his parents drove him to the hospital following his first explosion. We welcome today the author of ‘Trimming the Protein in Search of Electron Transfer Railways,’ and the strongest proponent of ‘finding the next piece to the puzzle.’”

  Dr. Covello took the stand and had the audience laughing in minutes to his explanation why there was no Nobel Prize in mathematics.

  “You know I’m the most famous Nobel laureate in chemistry, right? Well, some of you might have heard of Marie Curie, but besides her. And then there’s Frederick Sanger. Who knows about Sanger?”

  When there was only a slight acknowledgment in the audience and no response, Michael continued, “Sanger is the only person ever to win two Nobel Prizes in chemistry. It took him 22 years.”

  Michael continuing, “There are other double Nobels but they were mixed bags, chemistry and physics or chemistry and peace. But they weren’t free to come tonight, mostly because they’re dead, so you got me. I’ll try to make it worth your while.”

  Covello went on, intertwining chemistry, general science, and humor, which intrigued the entire audience, not just the chemistry majors. The egalitarian attitude in his lecture successfully mirrored his approach in the lab, where he was known for his humor and camaraderie as well as his brilliant work.

  Nick and Kat conversed in the background while Covello greeted his fans after the lecture and answered individual questions. While waiting for Nick and Covello to arrive from the airport earlier, Richard Burrows had taken the opportunity to update her on the search for the elusive Chevy Cavalier. He’d worked with campus security people in researching the school database and discovered that gray Cavaliers were the most popular cars on campus, for students and faculty alike.

  She filled Nick in now. “It looks like we should have tried harder to get the license number but everything happened so fast. At first I didn’t even dream that he would try to ram us like that! The ‘he’ being based on absolutely nothing. I didn’t see who was driving and neither did Robin. What a mess! Richard said that without a license number or any identifying marks, it would be impossible to track down our pursuer.”

  Nick listened attentively, glancing frequently towards Covello to make sure all was going well, then asked. “Couldn’t they at least check out some of the suspects to see if they owned a Cavalier?”

  “Mark Raub did. At least cars registered on campus. Without a plate number he couldn’t go further. He said the cars registered to the few possible suspects didn’t match, which only meant that they had not requested a permit for parking on campus, not that they didn’t own that type of vehicle.”

  She speculated for a moment. “I think his biggest problem right now is that he doesn’t have any strong suspects.”

  Nick frowned at the lack of progress in the case, but promptly adjusted his facial expression at a beckoning nod from Covello. The speaker had done an excellent job in carrying the audience under difficult circumstances and Nick told him so.

  Nick looked for the guard to make sure he knew to walk with Covello back to the apartment and make arrangements for morning. As he glanced around he noticed Carlos staring at Kat. Just then he spied the tall Swede over in the corner behind Covello, unobtrusive yet near enough if any problem arose. Karl was a perfect guard. He appeared to be a solicitous friend of Covello’s rather than a guard. Nick walked toward him, and forgot about Carlos for the moment as he dealt with the evening’s arrangements.

  He returned to Kat. Surreptitiously watching Carlos, he sensed the waves of hate that emanated from the swarthy man staring at her. Maria was quietly conversing with one of the professors, and Carlos stood at her side, but there was no denying that his frown was directed at Kat. Nick began to think Karl was gu
arding the wrong person. Thank heavens for G. L. Though his friend had the night off for once, knowing that he was watching over Kat generally gave Nick some peace of mind.

  Nick approached Kat, standing close and protective the rest of the evening. Mostly he kept an eye on Carlos. Glancing at the crowds still milling around to talk with Michael, Nick speculated on how he had come to this in the few short months since he “retired” from his previous job. He had taken the temporary job to relax and regroup, decide what he wanted to do with his life, what direction to head. But this simple position had turned into something else entirely.

  He was not only in charge of publicity but of guarding a Nobel Prize winner from an unknown foe, hunting up a murderer, and becoming involved with a woman who meant more to him in three weeks than any of those he’d known in the past.

  He really didn’t think Michael was in danger. He suspected that Charlie’s death was not a random killing of all scientists. Though hunting up killers was common practice for him he wasn’t used to working so much in the open, or in juggling his pursuit with other endeavors.

  Getting involved with Kat was another problem, though in many ways he didn’t think of it as a problem. She was a delight and he loved being with her. He felt it complicated the investigation to be personally involved with someone so close to the scene. Worse, he was beginning to wonder whether she wasn’t in imminent danger and more deeply involved than he and Burrows suspected.

  He brought his mind back to the moment and stayed with Kat to make sure some of the university associates and dignitaries were all being taken care of with friendly conversations, rides back to their cars, or a memento photo.

  Nick nodded and waved goodbye to a group of chemistry alumni who’d arrived to hear the scientist speak. He dismissed the photographer when he saw Karl conducting Covello out the side door. He noticed Sloan attached to his arm and Karl right behind. He’d offered Sloan a ride earlier but she declined, saying she would find her own way back later. He had no doubts that she was able. He had no concerns that the man would be outmaneuvered by Sloan. Earlier Kat had revealed that Covello’s handwriting spoke loudly of confidence and energy.