I thought about my showers the past few days with Guy and chuckled. I was sure that couldn’t be what she meant by “any water.”
“So how are the hot flashes?” She rocked back on one heel and looked at me.
I could feel my heart accelerate, and I was glad she’d finished listening to it. A knock at the door saved me from admitting that they were getting more frequent. No, it had to be the hot weather, not internal system failure. I wasn’t ready to apply the term “menopause” to a little sweat.
With Marion’s “come on in,” Annie poked her head into the room.
“Your nurse said I could interrupt. How’s Laura?”
Marion gave Annie a hug in greeting and reported me fit.
“Say, you two, any leads on who bumped off your president?”
“Not yet.” I shifted around on the examining table and the paper under me stuck to my legs. “But Der is hot on the case.”
“I’ll bet the two of you have your fingers in the pie somewhere. Especially you, Laura.”
“You’re supposed to be my physician, Marion, not a mind reader.”
“How good a physician would I be if I wasn’t well acquainted with the whole person?”
Annie and I related to her the facts of the case, as we had them. I also told her Der had given Annie and me the roles of spies at the upcoming funeral. Her eyes twinkled at the assignment.
“So what else is new?” A smile joined the twinkle in her eyes. I wasn’t certain if that was a comment on Annie’s and my intervention into the murder investigation or an honest query about what else was going on in our lives.
“Laura’s got a new boyfriend.”
“Really!”
“Yes, he’s tall, muscular, has blue eyes and rides a motorcycle. He works on the bridge project out at the lake and is a school teacher during the year. They spend most of their time riding around on that thing or hiding out in Laura’s bedroom.”
I glowered at Annie. “Why don’t you give her the details on what we do in the bedroom?”
“Oh, no. Have I said too much?” Annie clapped her hand over her mouth and had the decency to look embarrassed.
“Naw. I just wanted to tell her myself.”
“Go ahead,” Annie said.
“There’s nothing left to tell. What did you leave out?”
Annie changed the subject. “Almost everyone at the college is a suspect in the president’s murder.”
“I met the man on several occasions, so I understand. Maybe Detective Pasquis should add Jeff and me to the list of suspects.” The twinkle in Marion’s eyes was gone replaced now by a stormy look.
“Why?” I’d never seen Marion look so grim.
“Well, you know Jeff and I bought a small cottage on the lake last summer. It abutted the property that Talbot has his cabin on. There was a shared driveway between the two properties, but President Talbot told us we no longer could use it. We wanted to negotiate with him, but he slammed the door in our faces each time we tried to talk with him. He didn’t reply to any of our letters or to our lawyer’s phone calls. In a way, it’s to our advantage that he’s out of the picture. Maybe his wife will be more reasonable.”
Another knock interrupted our conversation. This time the nurse opened the door. “Detective Somebody from the authorities wants a word with you. Sounds important and official.”
“I think it’s your friend. Mind if he comes on in here?” Marion asked.
“Why not? Everybody should be in on my examination.” I pulled the examining robe more closely around my body.
“I’m just kidding. Get dressed, and we’ll all meet in my office.” She and Annie left me to find my clothes and join them as soon as possible. When I entered the office, Marion’s angry face said she wasn’t enjoying Der’s presence.
“You mean Bunny Talbot suggested that Jeff and I had a motive for doing in her husband, and that’s why you’re here? That’s ridiculous.”
“I know how aggravating you must find all of this, but I do need to ask you and your husband some questions about your encounters with Dr. Talbot.”
“Jeff left on business night before last and won’t be back until tomorrow night. I gather all of this must be about our argument. I already told Laura and Annie about it, so I may as well tell you now.” Marion repeated her story about the driveway.
“So, you see, we never really got a chance to deal with Talbot in person. Otherwise he might have drawn the attention of the law in court rather than from under a pile of gravel.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Der walked out the door without another word.
“Did he believe me? He left so abruptly.” Marion looked worried.
“He’s a cop. There are just too many possible suspects in this case, and he’s overwhelmed.”
“I wish Jeff and I weren’t on that list.” She rubbed her eyes and wrinkled her brow.
Chapter 5
A herd of deer grazing in a meadow raised their heads to look at Guy and me as we swung by on the bike. I smelled the sweet grassy odor of cut alfalfa lying in wait for baling the next afternoon. The motorcycle rounded a curve and began its descent into a small valley, the temperature changing from warm to cold as the trees hanging over the road trapped a pocket of evening air beneath their branches.
“Now I’ll bet you understand why I like this better than a convertible. The engine is so quiet even the deer aren’t offended by the noise.” Guy downshifted as we headed into another curve.
“Hmm.” I sighed and wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my nose in his neck.
“And the smells. Corn and alfalfa and wild flowers.”
“And aftershave.” I took a tentative nibble of his neck.
“Hey, no interfering with the driver’s driving!”
I giggled and gave him a quick peck on his neck. “Hey, we’re at the site of the proposed boat launch.”
“So let’s take a look around.” Guy braked to a stop.
We could look up the hill and see the lake condominiums which were positioned just north of the proposed launch.
We dismounted and, holding hands, began to walk down to the lake.
During the school year, Guy taught high school biology in a small community just outside the city of Gananaque, Ontario and supplemented his small teaching income with the higher paying roadwork that New York State offered in the summer. I had suggested we ride up the lake to the Biological Field Station. I thought Guy might find the site interesting.
There was another reason I wanted to visit the station. Stanford, the director, might be there, and I could have a few words with him. Just nosing around as usual, I chided myself, then salved my conscience by reminding myself Der was encouraging my snoopy nature.
“Whew! Smell that.” Guy waved his hand in front of his face as if he could flap away the odor. “Smells like dead fish combined with sewage. The condos can’t be dumping their waste water into the lake, can they?”
“Of course not. If they were, the college would be the first to know. The Biological Field Station has responsibility for monitoring the water quality in this lake, and it’s always been good according to reports published every month in the newspaper and submitted to the state.”
“Well, there’s been some problem. Look at all those dead fish.” Guy pointed toward the shallow water. Sure enough, bloated bodies of fish bobbed in the water. “Must have been some kind of recent incident with their waste water.”
“That smell certainly does ruin the mood, doesn’t it?” I said.
“Let’s get out of here.” Guy grabbed my hand and we headed back to the bike.
We rounded the tip of the lake where the road made its way through marshlands and headed south again through fields cleared for raising crops and for grazing milk cows. The scent of cow manure seemed like a pleasant change from the dead fish smell.
Guy turned in at the sign marked “Biological Field Station, Upstate College”. We cruised down a paved road and parked in the lot near
the newly constructed two-story brick building. A figure walking across the grass turned at the sound of the bike and waited as Guy and I moved up the sidewalk to the building entrance.
“Dr. Murphy.” The tone of the man’s greeting was cold.
“Good evening, Donald. I’d like you to meet Guy LaFrance, a friend of mine. Donald Hall, assistant to the director of the station here.”
The two men shook hands. Donald scrutinized Guy’s face with interest.
“Have we met somewhere before?” Guy inquired.
Donald squinted up at Guy. “You seemed familiar somehow, but now that I see you up close, I don’t think so. I must need glasses”
Donald always looked as if he needed a good meal or someone to iron his clothes or tell him to shampoo his thin, oily hair. A girl friend might do him some good. Well, it was none of my business, but I ran a list of single women at the college through my head just the same. Laura Murphy, resident snoop and part-time match maker.
“Dr. Stanford around?” My gaze travelled around the grounds.
“No, he’s out in the boat, pulling the water samples for this evening.”
“Someone should take a look at that proposed launch site across the lake,” Guy spoke in a friendly tone. “A lot of fish dead there.”
“Yeah, we noticed that yesterday. Sometimes the condos have trouble with their waste water system, and we get a release of inadequately treated effluent into the lake. Usually the amount is small and no harm is done, but it looks as if there has been a problem that hasn’t been corrected. Dr. Stanford is collecting some water samples tonight to see how far-ranging it is. We’ll notify the condominium management and the state to see that it’s addressed.”
“If it continues long enough, it could affect the entire lake.” Guy’s words were more authoritative now.
“You a water resources expert?” I caught a note of defensiveness in Donald’s voice.
“No, just an interested citizen and high school biology teacher.” Guy’s cordial tone seemed to reassure Donald. He relaxed and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“Could you give us a brief tour, Donald? I mean, if you’re not too busy?” I smiled, hoping to smooth any offense Donald may have taken at Guy’s comments.
“Things are locked up for the night, and I’m just leaving. Perhaps some other time.”
At that moment, the sound of the station’s research boat could be heard nearing the dock.
“Sounds like Dr. Stanford is back.” Donald turned toward the water.
We saw Stanford tie up the boat and signal to his assistant.
“Hall, come help carry these containers to the lab.” Stanford glanced at Guy and me and the smallest of smiles crossed his thin lips. “Laura Murphy, what are you doing here?”
“Hi, Will. Hope you don’t mind. I brought a friend to see your operation. I know it’s after hours, but we were in the area. Will, meet Guy LaFrance.”
The two men shook hands.
“Nice to meet you, Guy. Say, didn’t I see you working on that bridge project at the south end of the lake? What’s your interest in the station here?” Stanford wore a bush shirt and matching khaki colored shorts. The outfit showed off his muscled arms and legs. In the setting sun his long hair, drawn back in a ponytail, shone a metallic grey, the color of his eyes. He was the picture of a man who kept in shape. He had that healthy outdoorsy look, appealing to both men and women.
“Says he’s some kind of biologist.” Donald passed by us toting the containers from the dock to the nearest building.
“I teach high school biology during the year and earn my motorcycle money by doing road and bridge construction in the summer.”
Stanford nodded. “Good work, good pay. I used to work the road crews in the summers when I was in graduate school.”
The three of us headed for the building Donald had entered.
Stanford looked back at Guy’s motorcycle parked next to the two cars in the parking lot. His gaze came back to me. “Never knew you to be a motorcycle fan, Murphy.”
“I just became one.”
He held the door open. “Well, let me give you the fifty cent tour. You can’t see much of the lake or the swamp in this light, but I’ll walk you through our new labs and classroom complex. It’s small but adequate for our operations here.”
“Maybe you’ll need more space if what I heard is true.” I thought I’d begin wheedling information out of him with an innocuous comment.
“What’s that?” A fleeting look of concern crossed his features.
“Rumor has it Talbot finally decided to move the Biological Field Station under the auspices of Dr. Pruitt and Water Resources.”
Stanford continued walking down the hall ahead of us, and I couldn’t see the expression on his face. When he stopped and faced us, he laughed. “That’s preposterous. Pruitt is making it up, and how convenient he can use the president’s death as an excuse for there being nothing official. I really don’t think that verbal promise will hold much sway with the next president. That Pruitt, he’ll try anything to get his own way.”
“Murder?” Guy’s comment stopped Stanford in his tracks..
“Good God, no! Pruitt? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Stanford’s expression was at once both horrified and amused.
We turned into one of the labs where Donald was working on the water samples brought in that night.
“That water sample from around the launch site will probably look bad, and we’ll monitor that closely.” Stanford stood over his assistant, a move that seemed to irritate Donald. “They must be having trouble with their system again.”
I tried a direct question. “Does that happen often?”
“Not really. We’d like it not to happen at all, but it hasn’t done any permanent damage. It’s probably related to the enormous amount of rain we’ve had lately. Continued monitoring and testing of the water will establish it’s an anomaly and only temporary.”
“I had an appointment with my physician today as a follow-up on some antibiotics she prescribed for earaches I had earlier this summer. She said she’s been finding a rash of earaches and suspects some water source. Not the lake, of course.”
“Yeah, I know. I got a call from her just this week. We’re being extra vigilant and doubling our water samples. So far nothing with the exception of that stink over by the condos, but that’ll be taken care of in the next few days. That’s not long term so we’ve ruled out this lake as the problem. I sure wouldn’t want people to be getting sick swimming in these waters.”
Donald nodded his head in agreement.
We spent some time looking around the lab and then continued on to the biology laboratories. Here glass aquaria housed fish, mussels and other animal life taken from the lake. Samples of lake vegetation took up a considerable amount of space in the last area while a smaller laboratory was reserved for microbiological work. I had toured the wetlands and swamp area the previous spring. Animal and plant life in the wild was vastly more interesting to me than specimens in a lab, and I said so to Stanford.
“I’d have to agree with you. I’m more of an ecological researcher, looking at the interrelationship among plants and animals in an ecosystem such as the wetlands around here. However, a significant portion of my time in the field is made up of obtaining water samples for testing because we were awarded the contract with the state to insure the safety of these recreational waters. That’ll change soon.”
“How’s that?” I hadn’t heard of this before.
“A public boat launch has been approved, so the college will be partnering with the state to monitor the lake waters. We’ll see if that reduces our work load or increases it.”
“Maybe you need to use some of your students for the work. I’ve been very successful getting students involved with my research, and they’ve proven to be quite adept at carrying out a number of projects.”
Stanford chuckled.
“You can’t really be equating the fuzzy procedures
and approaches of psychology with the precision required in a real science like biology, can you, Dr. Murphy?”
“My research is hardly fuzzy and imprecise.” I clenched my fists and leaned forward, chin out, my posture suggesting I could defend my work with both words, and action, if necessary.
“I’m sure you believe it to be quite scientific, but it’s a far cry from working with human subjects to the demands required of a researcher in biology who must understand calculus, chemistry and a host of biological phenomena. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to close up here for the night.” Stanford strode to the door of the lab and held it open for Guy and me.
“Goodnight, Dr. Murphy, Mr. LaFrance.” There was finality in his tone of voice.
Guy shook Stanford’s hand and said goodnight. I gave a quick nod and continued to seethe over his condescending remarks to me about my research and psychology in general. I was about to speak, when Guy stopped in front of Stanford blocking his way to the parking lot.
“You know, Dr. Stanford, your set-up here puzzles me. It would seem to be a perfect environment for bringing students and professionals in for training, which might include gathering and testing those water samples. Not that it’s any business of mine how you run this station, but I did an undergraduate internship in a field setting in Canada, and the research was professional and precise.”
A red flush began to run up Stanford’s face from his neck. His thin lips drew together in a tight line, and I watched his cheeks tic up and down as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. He caught the intensity of my scrutiny, swallowed, cleared his throat and stepped back, calming himself in the process.
“What school did you say you attended?”
“McGill University.”
Stanford smiled. “Oh, well, then. Canadian schools do things somewhat differently.”
“I sure didn’t think they did science differently.” Guy’s gaze locked with Stanford’s.
The smile slid from Stanford’s face for a moment then was quickly replaced with a broader one.
“Well, this certainly is an interesting topic. I hope we can get together again sometime and exchange notes, but for now, I really must run. My wife is here from her studies at Syracuse, and I’m late for dinner. Not good to keep the little woman waiting, wouldn’t you say, Dr. Murphy?”
Murder is Academic Page 4