Murder is Academic

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “I’d prefer you say nothing now. I’d like to get the coroner’s report back before I wrap this one up. I feel a little uncomfortable about a murder followed by a suicide among folks at the same small college. It feels too much like a convenient coincidence to me.” He hung up, leaving me to find some lie to cover my departure.

  I returned to the deck and told Beth she could enter Will’s campus office and do whatever she needed to there. I was still scrambling in my head for a way to leave Beth to her own devices and join Der when she provided me the opportunity.

  “I’m off then. I don’t think there’s anything in the office of use, but I’ll need to begin somewhere to look for Will’s and my correspondence about my work. I’ll call you later this afternoon and let you know how I’m faring.”

  When I arrived at the Biological Field Station, Der was waiting for me outside by the dock. He and Ron, the young officer Annie flirted with last night, were looking out over the lake and in earnest conversation. They turned as I approached.

  “Let’s go up to the office.” Der said.

  Ron pulled up the note on the screen and offered me a seat in front of the computer. The note was short and unsigned, but its content coupled with the manner of Stanford’s death seemed to indicate Stanford wrote it. It read:

  I cannot bear the humiliation of losing the Field Station to Pruitt. Please forgive my behaviour. Goodbye.

  “Humiliation? I would have thought contemplating Pruitt as his superior would enrage Stanford, but there’s no anger in the note, no railing at Talbot’s act.” I stared at the screen puzzled. Something didn’t feel right. There was some element beyond the tone of the note that bothered me, something my conscious mind reached out for, but couldn’t grab onto. What was it?

  Chapter 12

  Der and I stood in the parking lot and watched Ron drive out of the station.

  “Nice guy, that Ron. Smart too. Annie told me he was going to law school at night.”

  “Say, what is going on between those two?” Der seemed interested.

  “Nothing much yet. They just met last night when you pulled Stanford’s body out of the lake.”

  “Looks like Annie has better taste in men than a lot of women.”

  “If you’re referring to me, back off.” I walked toward my car.

  “Hey, just kidding.” Der followed me. “I thought we were good enough friends that I could tease you a little.”

  “Oh, we’re good friends. Whether we’re good enough for teasing at this point in time is another matter. I’m a bit tender over the Guy thing, and I need to do some thinking. Okay?” I laid my hand on his arm and gave him a pat to let him know there were no hard feelings. I got in and closed the door.

  As I pulled out of the drive, I yelled back to him, “Now Alicia, there’s a girl who really needs some help with her taste in men.” I took a look back at Der in my rearview mirror. He wasn’t smiling. I guess he didn’t like teasing any better than I did.

  Der called that afternoon to let me know the autopsy on Stanford’s body determined cause of death to be drowning. There was nothing in the report to counter the suspicion of suicide. Der dismissed my misgivings about the note since I could give him nothing to go on other than what he called my woman’s intuition saying something “wasn’t right.”

  *

  The college prepared for yet another funeral. The weather grew hotter and muggier and threatened a thunderstorm every afternoon. There were no messages on my answering machine and no Guy at the bridge construction site. But there were two bright spots on my horizon. I eagerly looked forward to David’s visit with his fiancé, and I delighted in how well Annie’s relationship with Ron was developing. With Annie and Ron taking every possible free moment together and David’s visit days off, I had time on my hands. I decided working on my manuscript was a good idea, but I chose to do so at home. I could not bear spending any time in that hothouse I called my campus office. I wasn’t even sure my computer there would work in all the heat.

  I found my mind wandering too much to accomplish much. Both Monday and Tuesday afternoons brought thunderstorms so I shut down my computer and simply stared across the lake into the torrential rains that came with the storms.

  Wednesday morning dawned clear. I surveyed the storm damage in my yard and decided I should get busy clearing away the limbs. The physical work would be good for me.

  Stanford’s funeral was Wednesday afternoon, and I stopped by Annie’s to pick her up.

  “I tried to call you this morning, but both phones rolled over to voice mail,” Annie said.

  “Yeah, I turned down the ringer and shut off my cell to get some work done.”

  “So did you make progress on your paper?”

  “I spent two days at the computer and wrote, ‘the results of this investigation fail to support…’,” I quoted from my paper to Annie.

  “Fail to support what?”

  “I don’t know. That’s all I finished.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “I know. I can’t focus on the paper. I either think about Stanford’s death or Guy’s absence.” I shook my head. “I did call Beth earlier this morning. She’s doing pretty well considering the situation. She’s a little worried she may not be allowed to do her work at the lake with her husband out of the picture. I guess there will be an announcement today or, at the latest, tomorrow about who will be taking on the position of interim president. Any guesses on whom the Board of Trustees will appoint?”

  “It’s got to be Jim Evans, the VP of Academic Affairs,” Annie said.

  “If it isn’t, he may create problems for Beth.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’d be in a lousy mood if denied interim. Sometimes I wonder why I continue to work at this crazy place.” I sighed.

  “You think there’s a better place?”

  “Not really, but maybe it’s time for a change.” I sighed again.

  “Will you stop that!” Annie looked at me crossly. “You’re getting me depressed.”

  We pulled into the parking lot at the student center, got out of the car and found ourselves walking toward the building next to Rudolf Pruitt and Nancy. Annie and I looked at each other with a sense of funereal déjà vu. The opportunity to taunt Pruitt made me feel suddenly quite perky. Confronting him might be the high point of my day, perhaps the entire week, so I followed them with Annie close at my heels.

  By the time I got to the door, Bunny Talbot was engaging Pruitt in a conversation I could see was meant to be private. I rushed up to them but was able to catch only the end of their exchange. Bunny darted away, patting her spit curls as she left and glancing back at Pruitt with what I thought to be a look of both fear and anger.

  “Hi, Rudolf.” I grinned like a court jester. A little less joy, Laura. This is a funeral, after all. I arranged my face in a more serious expression. “Can you imagine Stanford committing suicide? I guess he really didn’t want to work for you at the field station.”

  “Say what you’ve come to say and have done with it.” Rudolf crossed his arms in front of him, tapped his foot and waited for me to continue.

  “Oh, nothing. I just thought the animosity between you and Stanford went both ways. He didn’t want to work for you, and I don’t suppose you wanted to have him work for you. If the coroner weren’t so certain Stanford committed suicide, I’d say you have a motive for getting rid of him.” I didn’t really believe this, but it was fun yanking on his chain.

  “Don’t be absurd. I wouldn’t have minded Stanford working under me at all.” He laughed. “In fact, I would have enjoyed it.”

  “I’ll just bet you would have, but it occurred to me we only have your word Talbot was planning to move the station under your supervision. There’s nothing in writing I know of. Maybe Stanford knew differently. Maybe he had proof the field station wasn’t being moved. Now there’s a reason you might want to get rid of him.”

  Pruitt’s face turned bright red, the outcome I
was anticipating. When I began my remarks, I intended to needle him, but when the words left my mouth I realized I had hit upon a legitimate motive for murder and a good reason for creating a phony suicide note.

  Before I left, I had to get in another jab. “Don’t get so upset, Rudolf. As I said at first, the coroner is certain Stanford committed suicide even though I may not be fully convinced.” As I looked back over my shoulder, Nancy seemed to be trying to calm Pruitt as his cheeks turned a deeper color of red.

  “Well, your mood certainly has picked up. Aren’t funerals supposed to be solemn occasions with a lot of crying?” Annie said when I joined her and we searched for seats.

  “Of course, and I feel really awful for Beth. But I’m glad I’m not attending funerals where the deceased is someone I truly care about.”

  “Look. Bunny Talbot has seated herself next to Beth and is hugging her. How considerate of her.”

  I nodded in agreement, but my attention wasn’t centered on her kindness toward Beth but rather on the remarks I overheard Bunny make to Rudolf Pruitt. They made little sense to me because I caught only the end of a sentence, but I had heard Bunny mention the condo board and a warning for Rudolf to “back off.”

  I should corner Bunny after the funeral and see what I could get out of her. I intended to tell Der about my talk with Pruitt and his reaction to my allegations. If Der used my approach to dealing with suspects, he could get a lot more out of them. Hit ‘em low, then hit ‘em again—the Laura Murphy interrogation method.

  Two murders. In my mind it was just too perfect. Pruitt murdered Talbot, then announced Talbot had moved the field station’s supervision to him. Then he killed Stanford to keep Stanford from revealing evidence proving the field station was to remain under his direction. It all fit. I just needed proof, and then I could show Der I was no amateur sleuth, but a real professional.

  Annie jabbed me in the ribs. “Hey, get up. The service is over. Let’s leave so people will stop staring at you sitting there mumbling to yourself.”

  I shook free of my thoughts and began to organize my actions for the next few hours. I made mental notes to myself as Annie and I mixed with the crowd leaving the student center. Ahead of us, I spied Bunny Talbot still wrapped around Beth. I needed to see both of them so I pushed ahead until I could tap Bunny on the shoulder.

  “Bunny, dear, so good to see you out and about and supportive of Beth in her time of grief.” I gave Bunny a hug, just a little one, not wanting to mess up her curls. Annie shot me a look of surprise. It was not in my nature to be this cloyingly sweet, but I needed information and decided to use the honeyed approach. I took Bunny to one side.

  I filled my voice with concern. “Say, I couldn’t help but overhear a bit of your conversation with Dr. Pruitt. You sounded upset. Was he bothering you about something? Something to do with the condo board?” Bunny looked at me as if she were about to answer my questions, then suspicion crossed her face.

  “You overheard our conversation because you pushed your way into it. It’s none of your business.” She turned to leave.

  Time to drop the sweet act and go for strong-arming my quarry.I grabbed her arm before she got too far.

  “Why would you be talking to Pruitt about those condos? What’s your interest in them? Still trying to peddle them to unsuspecting faculty without the college’s knowledge?” I was fishing but she wasn’t biting.

  I tried again.

  “Pruitt threatening to reveal something about your selling them? I guess I’ll just have to talk with Rudolf myself about what’s going on between you two.”

  Bunny now looked more alarmed than angry and pulled her arm out of my grip.

  “You stay away from Rudolf. I’ll tell you, but not now and not here. Come to my house tonight after dinner, and we’ll talk.” Bunny patted her spit curls flat against her cheeks and hurried toward the departing crowd.

  I rushed back to where Annie was standing.

  “I just hit pay dirt, I think.” I repeated my conversation with Bunny.

  “Great, but what does this have to do with Talbot’s murder or with Stanford’s suicide?”

  Now why did Annie have to ask that question?

  “I only wish I knew. I feel like I know something or am about to know something, but the pieces don't seem to fit very well just yet. But soon. Maybe my visit to Bunny’s will help.”

  “You aren’t going there alone, are you?”

  “Of course I’m going alone. Do you think she’d let me in on what’s going on if someone else were there? I practically had to threaten her to get her to talk with me.”

  Annie looked concerned. “At least let Der know what you’re up to.”

  “Nosy Der? No way. He’ll say it’s nothing, or he’ll insist on coming with me, or he may just leave me out of it. I can’t take that chance. Bunny might even deny she talked with me this afternoon if he horned in on this.”

  Annie pushed me toward my car. “I’m waiting in the car outside tonight while you go in to meet with Bunny, just in case.”

  “Just in case what? Bunny’s hardly going to do me in. If she’s involved in something shady with the condos or somehow connected to her husband’s or Stanford’s death, she’s not going to take a chance of doing something foolish to me.”

  “You forget, oh master detective, how stupid criminals can be.”

  Annie and I made plans to have an early dinner so that I could arrive at Bunny’s a little earlier than she expected. It was a private dick ploy I read someplace to keep suspects off balance.

  Chapter 13

  I made Annie hunch down in the passenger’s seat so that no one would know she was with me. She suffered an uncomfortable ride to the Talbot house, and she did not ride in silence. I was surprised. I never knew Annie to be a whiner.

  It was threatening to rain again so I left Annie in a car with the windows rolled up even though the temperature was still in the eighties. She complained at the heat, but I couldn’t leave the windows down for air and then have Annie roll them up if it began to rain. I convinced her that anyone watching the car would find that highly suspicious. She moaned and settled farther down in the seat with her sketchpad in her hands.

  When Bunny came to the door, the scowl on her face said I was early and the napkin in her hand told me I’d interrupted her dinner. She invited me in and offered me a glass of wine and a seat at the table while she finished eating. Bunny made small talk about the weather and national news. I interrupted her chatter.

  “So what’s going on between you and Rudolf Pruitt?”

  She touched her spit curls and cleared her throat.

  “You know, Laura, my husband was not very fond of you. Not that he didn’t believe you were a fine researcher and good teacher. He found your style so rude and disruptive. I now know what he meant. You’re not very much of a lady, you know.”

  “I know, I’m not, but being a lady was never very high on my list of things to strive for. Let’s not get side-tracked here. I don’t really care what your husband thought of me or whether you agree with his opinion. He died under very suspicious circumstances, and the police are still searching for his murderer. One of the people with reason to do him in was Rudolf Pruitt, and I think you know that. So your conversation with Rudolf is of some interest to me. And to the police.” I added this as an afterthought.

  “Why would Rudolf want to kill my husband? He was finally getting what he wanted, control of the Biological Field Station. Now with Dr. Stanford dead and nothing in writing about the changes at the station, Rudolf’s in a bad spot. What if the next president doesn’t honor what dear Thomas wanted to do?” Bunny’s voice displayed both anger and distress.

  “All quite true, unless your husband never intended to move the station under Rudolf’s supervision. Did he say anything to you about it?”

  “Nothing.” Bunny picked at her skirt and patted her spit curls into place, but didn’t comment. I tried to wait her out, but she merely looked down at her lap, s
o I decided to be more direct with her.

  “So what were you and Rudolf talking about when you told him to back off?”

  “Just what you would expect. He was pressuring me to see if Dr. Stanford said anything to me about the changes at the station or whether there was anything in writing at home. He was taking the same approach he took with Thomas, harassing and pestering me. I knew little of dear Thomas’s business. I was just tired of Rudolf’s constant badgering me for information I didn’t have. It’s been hard enough dealing with Thomas’s death. I don’t really need Rudolf bothering me about something beyond my knowledge.”

  Bunny finally looked up and me. While I wasn’t certain she was telling the truth, I knew enough of Rudolf’s style to believe he would have been intrusive enough to bother Bunny about the field station matter.

  “So I told him to back off,” Bunny said.

  It fit, but somehow I still wasn’t satisfied.

  “Why were you so upset at my mentioning the condos?”

  “Oh.” Bunny paused, her eyes now darting around the room as if looking for something to rescue her. “Ah, well, see, people are always trying to use me to get to the condo board. I used to be on it, you know, years ago when I was selling the places as a real estate agent. So I thought you might be…

  “Don’t bullshit me, Bunny. You know I wouldn’t be interested in those condos or the board. So who is? Rudolf?”

  “Maybe. I can’t say.” Bunny rose, a signal our conversation was over. She seemed to gather her composure, perhaps feeling she fielded my questions successfully. While I was not convinced her story was true, parts of it made sense, and I could see I was going to get nothing more out of her. She showed me to the door just as the first downpour of rain hit. I had the feeling she was not unhappy to see me leave nor to see how wet I was getting in the deluge of rain and wind.

  When I got into the car, Annie looked as wet as I.

  “Why did you get out of the car? Someone could have seen you.”

  “I didn’t. I left the windows up as you insisted. It got so hot in here, I’ve been sweating like an teenage girl at the Salem witch trials.” Annie did not look happy.