The Semester of Our Discontent

by Cynthia Kuhn

  I shook my head.

  “A child of the corn?”

  I laughed. “No. I’m the woman behind the wallpaper.”

  “In the Charlotte Perkins Gilman story?” Nate nodded approvingly. “Nice.”

  The water trickled into the fountain merrily beside us, but a sense of foreboding filled me from head to toe. “Do we have to go, Nate?”

  “We do. Are you ready?” Nate pointed at Randsworth Hall, which was blazing with white and orange lights. People in fantastical costumes bustled around in front, greeting one another loudly. There were a number of performers on the grass outside of the building: skeletons juggling fiery batons, veiled ladies pantomiming distress, grim reapers wielding scythes, fairies dancing with streamers floating behind them, and so forth. Nate put his hand on the small of my back and maneuvered us through the crowd of people gawking at the spectacles.

  At the top of the stone stairs, we each accepted a flute of champagne from a tuxedo-clad waiter. Nate winked at me as we both took sips.

  “Friends.” Tad materialized in front of us in a linen shirt and tattered brown pants, performing a melodramatic bow. “Robinson Crusoe at your service. I figured it was metaphorically appropriate given the exile of my previous year.”

  Nate gave him a hearty clap on the back. “Well done, man.”

  We identified our own costumes, then Tad came in closer, whispering, “Wait until you see Eldon.”

  “Do tell,” said Nate, clearly intrigued.

  Tad smiled. “Ah, you’ll see soon enough.”

  A surge of entering partygoers pushed forward, and we were caught up with them, sweeping into the high-ceilinged main hall where guests holding glasses mingled and conversed. At the far edge of the crowd, Norton was in a medieval tunic, Spencer in leather jerkin and hose, and Judith in an old-fashioned frock which I presumed had some connection to a Woolfian protagonist—Clarissa Dalloway, perhaps. We all seemed to have chosen something relevant to our areas, as was perhaps to be expected.

  The walls were unoriginally swathed in orange and black, but the fabric appeared expensive, and the hundreds of crystals suspended on invisible wires from the ceiling added an elegant touch. Another waiter traded our empty champagne flutes for full ones; yet another presented a platter of tiny hors d’oeuvres, which we sampled and praised. It was all very posh and delightful.

  “Welcome one and all.” Chancellor Wellington’s voice exploded through the loudspeakers. He stood on one of the steps leading to the second floor, wearing some kind of nautical garb and holding a microphone.

  “Captain Ahab,” Tad informed me out of the corner of his mouth. “Wrote his dissertation on Moby Dick.”

  “Patsy and I,” the chancellor nodded at a blonde middle-aged mermaid in green sequins by his side, who beamed at him, “are delighted to see you here at our annual Halloween festivities. There will be a variety of traditional activities available, so do circulate. And don’t forget about the best costume award, which will be announced in due time. Enjoy, everyone.”

  He ended his speech with a gentlemanly flourish of the hand and passed off the microphone. As he moved to the main floor, a man in a royal costume quickly stepped up and engaged him in conversation.

  Tad made a sound of disgust. “That’s Eldon. Look at him sucking up to the chancellor.”

  “Maybe he’s just wishing him a good evening,” said Nate.

  “Or thanking him for the job,” I added.

  “Doubtful.” With a short laugh, Tad held up his half-empty champagne. “But cheers to the eternal optimists.”

  While clinking his glass, it struck me that Tad could be right: Eldon didn’t seem like the type of person who wished others a good evening or acted grateful for anything. “Who is he supposed to be?” I asked Tad.

  He grinned. “You can’t tell from the back, but there’s a crest on the front that actually says ‘Macbeth.’”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that was in the original play,” said Nate, laughing.

  A few hours later, I had chatted with colleagues galore and danced with a variety of people—including one delightful waltz with the enthusiastic Dean Okoye. I’d watched the costume judging and clapped for the winning professor of biology who had worn an elaborate steampunk-inspired suit featuring hidden panels that extended into bat wings for his transformation into Dracula.

  I’d also bumped into Simone, who had informed me that she was dressed as Countess Paulina de Bassompierre from Villette. She glowed in a flattering gown of shimmering fabric. After I admired her attire, she snickered at mine. It wasn’t as though I was very invested in my costume to begin with, but it still stung, as she intended. Conversing with Simone was like trying to dodge a tenacious bee.

  Now I was hiding out with Nate by the apple-bobbing station, which was understandably ignored by party guests who had taken the time to fashion complex coiffures for their costumes. I’d never understood the appeal of plunging one’s head into a cold bucket of water to grab fruit with one’s teeth, anyway; it seemed both dangerous and primal, somehow.

  Judith appeared, emanating cheery goodwill, as usual. “You both look divine. Are you having fun?”

  We greeted her, complimented her outfit, and discussed the best costumes we’d seen.

  “Well, well, well…what do we have here,” Eldon rumbled as he joined the group. “Colleagues.” He made it sound like a disease.

  Everyone said hello, though it was subdued in response to his repulsive tone.

  “The library staff was all abuzz after you left,” he informed me.

  I gave everyone a recap of the library incident.

  “I’ve never seen a professor behave in that manner,” Eldon said, radiating disapproval. “Galloping through the library like that.”

  I shrugged. “Adrenaline, I guess.”

  “First your office, now this? Things seem to be escalating,” Judith said. “That’s not a good sign. If it would make you feel better, you could stay with Spencer and me for as long as you like. Think about it, please, dear.”

  Just the thought of the unidentified menace made me cold all over.

  We were quiet for a moment, then Judith changed the subject. “That is a beautiful crest on your costume, Eldon. Did you paint it yourself?”

  Nate chimed in. “Interesting choice to add the label ‘Macbeth’ to it.”

  Eldon nodded. “Couldn’t be bothered to explain it to this gathering of illiterati.” I hardly thought university faculty could be described as illiterate, but I wasn’t going to correct him. In fact, I vowed to fly under his radar henceforth if at all possible.

  “I hope you have an enjoyable evening, Eldon,” said Judith, choosing to overlook his discourteousness.

  “Please. This is just a necessary evil. I’d rather be at home working on my book.”

  “Your book?” Judith curved her lips upward, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  Eldon made a sound of exasperation. “Yes, my book. The reason I was hired?” He scrutinized the circle with an expression of disbelief. “I’m writing the definitive study on Shakespeare’s identity. It’s going to decimate all of the existing proposals.”

  “Who is Shakespeare, then?” Nate cut right to it.

  Eldon’s face lit up with glee to the extent that, were he a comic villain, he surely would have been described as maniacal. “Well, it’s not Edward de Vere, as my brother mistakenly thought. Or Francis Bacon, as others continue to insist despite all evidence to the contrary. The truth will shock the world.”

  “Who are you leaning towards?” Judith asked.

  Eldon wagged his finger and tsked. “You know better than that, Judith. I won’t be giving away my secrets. All I can say at this point is that the finest writer in the English language is not a woman.” He snorted. “Of course.”

  Nate opened his mouth to retort but Judith
subtly shook her head.

  “And right on cue—it’s the Three Witches,” Eldon sneered. We all turned around to see Willa, Elisabetta, and Millicent talking by the far wall. Willa was clad in some sort of dark purple tunic trimmed with crystal beading over flowing pants that weren’t much different from what she normally wore: she tended to exude a high priestess vibe even on a regular day. Elisabetta and Millicent both wore suits—though Elisabetta’s was tailored and smart while Millicent’s was another one of the shapeless, boxy brown things she favored. None of them even remotely resembled a witch.

  “Really, Eldon,” Judith said.

  “I was trying to keep it Shakespearean, Judith. Would you prefer the three bitches?” Eldon gave a curt laugh. “I’m fine with that descriptor as well.”

  “No. I do not prefer—” Judith began.

  “Look at them,” Eldon interrupted her. “Working out their next spell, no doubt.”

  “Pardon me, Eldon, but have you ever had a conversation with any of those women?” I admired Judith’s ability to keep her composure.

  “I heard enough about them from my brother.”

  “Well, Roland did have strong opinions, but you might want to get to know them on your own.”

  “Hardly,” Eldon said. “I have neither the desire nor the need. I respect my brother’s judgment completely. And you saw how Willa behaved in the department meeting.”

  “Willa was just trying to pass a course,” Judith said. Her voice was still calm, but her eyes blazed.

  “A less than historically significant one, yes.” Eldon attempted to stare down Judith, which resulted in a draw.

  “Does Millicent usually come to faculty parties? She doesn’t seem very happy,” I said to Judith, intentionally ignoring Eldon. That was the best thing to do with bullies, I’d heard.

  “Spencer always escorts her to the Halloween party. It’s a tradition that began when she came to work for Stonedale. I forget why he brought her the first time, but she always attends, even though she refuses the costume aspect. She adores him.”

  “That’s very nice,” I said. I thought back to the flowers I’d seen on Millicent’s desk with the “B” card. Spencer wouldn’t cheat on Judith, would he? I couldn’t imagine it, but you just never know. Stranger things have happened. Since Judith didn’t seem concerned about it, I chose not to worry either.

  Willa and the other women headed our way.

  Eldon was craning his neck so he could watch something behind them. “Oh, here comes the dean. I must go say hello.” He acted as if he were the host of the party and needed to welcome everyone personally.

  “Holy crap,” said Nate, once Eldon was out of earshot. “He’s unbelievable!”

  I watched Eldon disappear down a side hallway, the hem of his robe sweeping regally behind him. He hadn’t spoken to the dean after all. Perhaps he simply enjoyed stirring the pot and fleeing. Some people were like that.

  “And did you hear him say he was hired because of his book?” Nate laughed. “He’s totally delusional.”

  Elisabetta gave us all hugs, and Judith complimented her jacket, which had an elegant bronze embroidered pattern around the hem.

  “Thank you! It’s one of my favorites—I decided that being retired meant I didn’t have to play the costume game anymore.”

  Willa laughed. “I rebelled too. I fail to see the point in dressing up offstage.” That explained her outfit—or lack thereof—as well.

  Millicent stood slightly apart from us, as if unwilling to engage. I asked if she was having a good time. She nodded, a small—shy?—smile on her face, though she didn’t say anything. I moved over to make room for her, but she remained where she was, watching the band.

  Well, I tried.

  “So what was Eldon talking about?” Willa asked.

  “Or maybe we don’t want to know,” suggested Elisabetta.

  The women huddled closer together for discussion purposes. Just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder. A smiling Nate requested a dance. Despite my protests, he pulled me on to the floor for a tango.

  After a half hour on the dance floor, we took a break at a table near the bar and drank ice water. It was becoming increasingly stuffy in the room and, although I’d enjoyed dancing with Nate, I was exhausted and ready to go. I didn’t see anyone else from the department in the immediate vicinity, so I suggested it was good time to make a break for it. Nate agreed, so we made our way through the crowd and exited. The air outside was immediately refreshing—I leaned against one of the front columns and rested my head. Nate leaned too, and we enjoyed the cool night for a few moments before the door opened and Judith emerged, her expression uncharacteristically tense.

  “Oh, thank goodness. Could you two help me?” She waved us over. “Quickly, please?”

  “What happened?” Nate asked, as we hurried inside.

  “It’s Willa,” Judith said over her shoulder. “I told her what Eldon said and she was furious. She went to find him, and now I can’t seem to locate her.”

  Nate and I quickened our pace.

  “What did you tell her?” I asked, catching up with Judith.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything. But I thought the ‘witches and bitches’ exchange was odd, so I mentioned it. And instantly regretted it. I’ve never seen her so angry. I’m worried about what she might have planned.”

  I hid a smile. What was a drama professor going to do, anyway—soliloquize him into submission?

  Then I reconsidered. Maybe Judith knew something about Willa that I didn’t. And given the intensity of the argument between Eldon and Willa in the department meeting, perhaps some trepidation was to be expected.

  “Did she say where she was going?” I heard myself ask—stupidly. Obviously if Judith knew, she wouldn’t be looking for her.

  “No. She just launched off. I’ve texted, called, and searched everywhere. Went outside to check as a last resort.”

  “I saw Eldon over there before.” I pointed to the hallway where he had disappeared, and Judith strode purposefully forward in that direction. Pushing through the crowd, I heard Nate apologize to someone behind me. I’d already bumped into at least five people trying to keep up with Judith. Finally, we hit the dance floor, which offered spaces between gyrating couples, allowing us to move faster to the other side and over to the hallway.

  Judith sped ahead. Although I was racing to keep up, she was far enough in front of me that I couldn’t see her after she turned the corner—though I did hear a scream echo back through the hallway.

  Nate and I sprinted around the corner to where Tad, his costume stained with dark red marks, stood perfectly still, appearing dazed. Blood slowly spread across the marble floor, away from its source: Eldon lying motionless, a wooden stake through his heart.

  Chapter 19

  The police arrived in a matter of minutes. Detective Archer strode in, shooting me a scowl that seemed to indicate an unhappy amount of suspicion. I couldn’t believe Judith and I were once again early on a scene involving the Higgins brothers and stabbing. I was pretty sure he was thinking the same thing.

  I knew I wasn’t responsible, but what about Willa? Or Judith, for that matter, as much as I didn’t want to entertain the idea? And why was Tad here with Eldon? Where had Tad been all night, anyway?

  I shook my head to refocus and peered over at Nate and Tad, who were like grim bookends leaning against the wall on either side of Judith, who was fanning herself with her hand. The men were both silent and staring blankly ahead.

  Suddenly, Willa burst around the corner and flew over to us, her curls waving in the air. “What’s going on?”

  Judith led Willa down the hallway, turning her back to us. She lowered her voice and spoke earnestly. I wondered at the need for secrecy.

  “Dr. Maclean?” Detective Archer signaled for me to follow him into a nearby classroom, where I sat
in the first student desk I bumped into. He settled on the teacher’s desk, an enigmatic expression on his face, notepad at the ready. “So. We meet once again at a murder scene. Care to explain yourself?”

  I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

  “Let me rephrase that: explain yourself.”

  Even though I knew I was innocent, I felt confused, somehow, as if being involved so many times did in fact indicate something. “I don’t know why this keeps happening. I’m starting to think maybe I’m cursed.”

  “I’m sure the other residents of Stonedale are wondering about you too. But let’s leave that alone for the time being and talk about what you’re doing here tonight.”

  “I came for the party, same as everyone else.”

  His eyes bore into mine. “Yes, but everyone else didn’t find another dead body.”

  “Wrong place, wrong time. Again.”

  He rubbed the hand holding a pen over his face and sighed. I couldn’t tell if he was frustrated with me specifically or with the situation in general. “I don’t know how one person can be in so many of the exactly wrong places at the exactly wrong times.”

  “I don’t either. It’s extremely upsetting.”

  We looked at each other until he raised one finger and made the spinning motion universally recognized as the signal to Get On With It.

  “Sorry. Okay, Nate and I were leaving the party, and Judith asked us to help her.” I didn’t want to point the finger at Willa again, as I felt I’d done when Judith was attacked at her house. Though I couldn’t be sure Willa wasn’t involved either. Still, these people were the closest thing to friends I had at Stonedale, and I didn’t want to be accusatory without any basis.

  “Help her with what?”

  “Finding someone.”

  He sighed again. “And this would be…?”

  I couldn’t see a way out of it. “Willa.”

  His pen scribbled away. “So Judith was searching for Willa and you accompanied her into the building.”