Phi Beta Murder

by C. S. Challinor

  When the service was over, Rex stood by the entrance and watched as the mourners filed out of the church. Kris and Mike left together. The Clarks received condolences from staff members, among them Astra Knowles, the school registrar, dressed in a garment resembling a black tent.

  “I’m getting something to eat with Melodie and her parents before they leave for the airport,” Campbell said, approaching his father, hands plunged into the pockets of his dress pants. “Are you coming?”

  “Thanks, but no. There are still a few people I want to talk to.”

  Campbell gave him the keys to the SUV. “I’ll meet you back at the dorm around six-thirty.”

  Mr. Clark came over to shake his hand, while Katherine and Melodie waved from where they stood talking to the dean beneath the shade of a sabal palm.

  “Take care,” Keith told Rex.

  “You too. It was a fine service. I liked the song about spending all your time waiting for that second chance.”

  “Kris chose it. It was one of Dix’s favorites. In fact, Katherine and I have been talking. We’ve decided to set up a scholarship in Dix’s name so we can help a deserving kid in his place. It might help make some sense out of all this.”

  Rex shook Keith’s hand again in both of his. “That’s a grand gesture. I’ll be in touch.”

  He gazed after the family as they walked with his son to the rental car. The scene gave Rex a strange sense of premonition. But for Dixon’s death, Campbell and Melodie might never have met.

  The dean was stooped over his bike twirling the combination on his lock when Rex joined him in the church parking lot.

  “Dr. Binkley,” he announced. “I’m Rex Graves. My son is a sophomore at Hilliard.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” They shook hands. “That’s a Scottish accent, isn’t it? I did my PhD at the London School of Economics and visited Edinburgh many times. It’s a fascinating city. What do you do there?”

  “I prosecute in the High Court of Justiciary,” Rex said, putting himself on an equal professional footing with the dean. The High Court was the supreme criminal court of Scotland and he had been appointed Queen’s Counsel.

  “Your son must be one of our foreign exchange students. What is he studying?”

  “Marine science.”

  “An excellent program. The St. Johns River, its estuaries, and the Atlantic Ocean provide a plethora of marine habitats for study. The Calypso, our twenty-five-foot Boston Whaler, facilitates field work for our students.”

  Rex already knew all this. The dean’s barrage of words reminded him of his interview with the affable and voluble school registrar, Astra Knowles. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about Dixon Clark. That was a moving eulogy you gave.”

  The dean shook his head sorrowfully. “It’s a terrible thing to have a student die on your watch, as it were.”

  “I understand there was some ill-feeling between Dixon and another undergraduate by the name of R.J. Wylie.”

  “Are you going to pressure me to shut down the website too? I was just speaking to Mrs. Clark about it. She’s threatening to sue the school for failing to comply with her son’s request to shut it down. You’re a lawyer. Do you think she has a case?”

  “There may be grounds for a wrongful death suit if it can be proved the college took insufficient steps to prevent a suicide.” Of course, this was all hypothetical, since Rex was not sure a suicide had occurred after all, but he felt it could do no harm for the dean to reconsider his position.

  “We did ask the site to desist from posting inflammatory material,” Dr. Binkley said, in the college’s defense.

  “Did you receive a response?”

  “Only an email to the effect that StudentSpace.com is a personal website and students have a First Amendment right to free speech and expression.”

  “Have you consulted with an attorney?”

  “We have.”

  That might explain the confiscation of Dixon’s PC. “Additionally, the question of why campus security took so long to respond to the crisis might come up,” Rex insinuated.

  The dean’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Are you acting for the Clarks?”

  “I am not acting in a legal capacity for anyone,” Rex replied truthfully, while evading the question of his involvement with Mr. and Mrs. Clark. “I’m just curious as to why the other boy was expelled. This seems to be at the heart of the website controversy.”

  “The disciplinary board voted three to five not to reinstate Wylie.”

  “Why was that, if he was acquitted by a court of law?”

  “We believed he was a bad influence. Several students testified that Wylie was using recreational drugs on campus.”

  “Were these witnesses credible?” The inference was that Dixon’s own testimony had not proved to be so. The prosecution had failed to convince the jury that the dealer in the video was R.J. Wylie, who, in any case, had been signed in at a lab when the drug transaction took place.

  Binkley bent down to attach bicycle clips to the pants of his suit. “Good to meet you, Mr. Graves,” he said getting on his bike. “Hope we get the opportunity to talk again.” With that, he pushed off on his pedal and sailed across the parking lot, the tails of his gown floating behind him as he greeted students in passing.

  Rex stared after him, wondering just how many emails Dixon had sent the college begging them to take action. Hilliard had done no more than dispatch a civil email into cyberspace in response, to which StudentSpace.com had replied anonymously. Sighing, Rex got in the SUV. He had lost sight of Astra Knowles. It was doubtful she would return to the college office after 5:00.

  He shrugged off his jacket and took out the button Klepto had given him. If the psychology student had tried to blackmail Wylie, he must know where he lived. Rex kicked himself for not having found out at the time, but he had not wanted to keep Dixon’s ex-roommate from the service. Now Klepto was nowhere to be seen either.

  As Rex turned onto the campus, he spied Cormack in front of the administrative building. The math professor was opening the door of a green Saturn for a shapely blonde whom Rex recognized from the website as Campbell’s marine science professor. He swung into the space next to Cormack’s car and climbed out of the SUV. The professor did not look pleased to see him, or maybe he just felt guilty for not attending the memorial service. Rex’s formal tie attested to the fact that he had.

  “Sorry to accost you like this, Mr. Cormack,” he said. “But I wonder if you can tell me where I can find R.J. Wylie.”

  Cormack looked surprised, but did not ask the reason for the question. His companion had ducked into the passenger seat out of sight.

  “Uh, let me see.” The professor scratched his head. “He’s from Florida. Fort Myers—that’s it. Dunbar High has a strong math department and I’ve gotten a few students from there. R.J. had a natural gift for math.” He seemed genuinely peeved that he had lost a good student.

  “I remember you saying.”

  “I wasn’t at the service,” Cormack volunteered, “because Dixon Clark fabricated testimony against Wylie. Whoever dubbed him ‘The Snitch’ on StudentSpace.com called it right. And that’s not all.” He bent down and Rex heard the clink of car keys. “Put the air on. I won’t be long,” he told his passenger, closing the door. “Clark transposed Bethany’s head onto a porn star’s body.” He glanced at the Saturn, leading Rex to understand that Bethany was the woman in the car.

  “My son showed me. Ms. Johnson is his marine science professor.”

  “It’s a scandal.”

  “Do you know who runs the site?”

  “If I did, don’t you think I’d murder the little shit?”

  “I don’t think Dixon was responsible for that picture. From what I understand, he was not very proficient in computer science. And from what I’ve met of his friends, I don’t think they are either.”

  “Don’t underestimate them. They don’t have what we might call academic smarts, but if there was a way to di
stil beer from their oatmeal, they’d find it.”

  “Mrs. Clark has spoken to the dean about shutting down the site.”

  “Good,” Cormack said between his teeth. “We wouldn’t want another death on our hands.”

  Yanking open his door, he got in his car and reversed in a reckless curve. Rex watched him race out of the parking lot, reflecting that it must take a lot of emotion to turn a mathematician into a hot head. Still, from the quick glimpse he had caught of the girlfriend, he could understand Al Cormack’s reaction.

  Rex went to the bagel shop for a coffee before returning to Campbell’s room, where his son joined him a quarter of an hour later, looking subdued.

  “How did it go with the Clarks?” Rex asked.

  “It was nice. I don’t know when I’ll see Melodie again.”

  “Why don’t you send her a postcard from the Keys?” Rex said, hoping they could still make it. A lot depended on wrapping up the case and getting Moira on the plane the next day. Campbell’s face cleared at the suggestion. “I could send her some pictures of myself on the boat.”

  “There you go. But right now I need your help.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “I’d like you to Google Dunbar High School in Fort Myers. I need a location so I can narrow my search.”

  “Who’s in Fort Myers?” Campbell asked, taking the desk chair while Rex propped himself against the pillows on the bed.

  “R.J. Wylie went to school there. If he’s back home, I might be able to find him. Ray Junior’s father must be called Ray. I’m hoping he’ll be listed in the phone book.”

  “What are you going to say to him?”

  “I’ll play it by ear. What do I call for directory service in the States?”

  “4-1-1.” Campbell gave him the address of the school in Fort Myers.

  The operator came back with five numbers for R. Wylie listings in the area. “One of them is for Ray Wylie Pool & Patio Service,” she informed him.

  “Thanks.” Rex glanced up at Campbell.

  “Could you see if you can dig up anything further of interest on the CD-ROM of Dixon’s files while I check out these numbers? I’ll try the pool company first. Perhaps it’s a private number.”

  “He-llo,” a nasal male voice answered. The canned laughter of a TV sitcom played in the background.

  “Ray Wylie?”

  “What can I do you for?”

  “I wanted to speak to your son R.J.”

  “He’s not here.” Bingo! How many Ray Wylies with sons by the name of R.J. could there be? “He’s up in Jax. Is this about a job?”

  “It’s more of a social call. My son knows him from college.”

  The man sighed heavily. “He don’t got many friends left from Hilliard, ’cept for the boy he went to high school with. Ain’t got a cell phone neither, but he works for LTB Construction. I just got back from visiting him. They’ll tell ya what construction site he’s at. And just so you knows, my boy’s a good kid and the school never proved nothing.”

  “So I gather. I hear he was a good student.”

  “He was heartbroken when they kicked him out. He’s wanted to be a chemist since he first started helping me out with the pool business. In high school, he and his friend worked for me weekends and vacations. Ray liked testing the pool water and reading the ph level and all that good stuff. I been trying to get him to come into the business with me full time, but he ain’t gave up on Hilliard, even though we got no more money for it. It got used up in his defense. My wife works two jobs to help pay off the second mortgage we took out on the house. R.J. sends money when he can.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Wylie,” Rex said, ending the conversation. He felt uncomfortable prying information out of the man when his reasons for talking to R.J. were less friendly than he had intimated. “Do you recognize this button?” he asked Campbell, pulling it out of his pocket.

  “No. I mean, it looks pretty generic.”

  “Apparently it belongs to a hoodie and was found next to Dixon’s chair the night he died.”

  “Who found it?”

  “Klepto.”

  “Figures.”

  “Why d’you say that?”

  “Klepto finds everything that’s lying around. How do you know it’s not Dixon’s?”

  “I don’t. I could email Mr. Clark, but I’d rather ask R.J. if it’s his first. I need to talk to him anyway, but I suppose it’ll have to wait until tomorrow, when he’s at work.”

  “Did Klepto tell you it was R.J.’s?”

  “Aye. R.J. is not responding to his blackmailing demands.”

  “That is so like Klepto,” Campbell exclaimed in indignation. “Any way to make an easy buck. I heard he was sponging off an older woman, living at her house for free. He borrowed her Beamer once to attend an evening seminar. Mike saw it.”

  “Klepto does seem like a lovely character,” Rex agreed. “Did you find anything on the CD-ROM?”

  “A slew of emails going back to last semester, which he sent to various staff and faculty at Hilliard, complaining about the website.”

  “Let’s forward those to Keith Clark.”

  “In an email to Dr. Binkley’s secretary, he said he had proof of who was running SS.com.”

  “See if you can find out who it was.”

  Campbell busily typed away for a few minutes. “The domain name is registered to a Luella Shaw.”

  “Is that a fictitious name?”

  “Could be. All the girls I know on campus are called Ashley, Brittany, or Kristin.”

  “Is there a telephone number or address listed?”

  “999-999-9999. That’s certainly fictitious. The address given is Florida 32211, which is this zip code. Nothing else. The domain registration company operates out of Belize.”

  “Sounds a bit fly-by-night.”

  “Are we going out for dinner?” Campbell asked.

  “I thought you already ate with the Clarks.”

  “Yeah, but that was just a snack at some posh tea shop.”

  “I have to see Moira, but if you want to wait in the car, we can go to that beachfront restaurant afterwards.”

  “How long will you be?”

  “No more than an hour.”

  Campbell pulled an undecided face.

  “You could use the time to study. I’ll need you to come with me tomorrow to take her to the airport, in case she pulls another stunt. We’ll be leaving early, so it would be better if you spent the night at the motel.” In any case, now that Rex was almost convinced Dixon had been murdered, he didn’t like the idea of Campbell staying in the dorm before the killer was found.

  “Okay.” Campbell slid his laptop into his computer bag and grabbed a few items of clothing, which he stuffed in a hold-all.

  “By the way, I liked what you wrote about Earth being a living, breathing organism creating oceans and continents. It sounded like you were describing God.”

  “Did it? I only meant to make an analogy with humans.” Campbell smiled warmly. “But I’m glad you liked it.”

  They left the room and drove to the hospital where Rex found a shaded parking spot. The sun burned low in the sky in a fierce final effort before it set.

  “Are you coming in?” he asked.

  “I’ll stay here. Hospitals depress me.”

  Rex took Moira’s suitcase from the backseat and proceeded to her floor. As he passed the nurses’ station, Dr. Yee smiled briskly and formed an ‘O’ with her thumb and forefinger. That must mean we’re on for tomorrow, Rex said to himself. Hallelujah. He would breathe a mighty sigh of relief once Moira was on the plane headed home.

  “Oh, good, you brought my suitcase,” she exclaimed as he entered her room. “Pass it here, would you?” She extracted a compact from her sponge bag and proceeded to powder her nose and apply lipstick. The bandages on her wrists had been replaced with adhesive strips. “I was wondering if I’d see you today.”

  Rex perched on the side of her bed. “I’ve been
really busy and canna stay long. Campbell’s waiting in the car.”

  “You should have brought him up to see me.”

  “He’s studying.”

  “A likely excuse. He never was one for studying.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Rex said, curbing his irritation. Moira had no right to criticize his son. She had no rights on him at all now that they were no longer dating. “He doesn’t like hospitals. I suppose it reminds him of when he visited his mother when she was dying of cancer. You’ll see him tomorrow, though. He’s coming to the airport with us.”

  A corner of Moira’s lip twitched. “A grand trip it’s been for me! One walk along the beach and the rest of the time in hospital.”

  “Come on, Moira. You brought it on yourself. Coming to the States, I mean.”

  “I suppose so.” She zipped the sponge bag. “How are you getting on with the case?”

  “I’ll know more tomorrow, but I believe the lad was murdered.”

  “Murdered?” Moira’s eyes widened with interest. “Who killed him?”

  “There are a bunch of people with enough motive.”

  “You can tell me. It’s not like I know anyone here, so I’m not going to go telling anyone.”

  “One of his professors didn’t like him, for starters. He thinks the lad got his best student expelled unjustly from the university. He’s also got it into his head that the victim posted a nude photo of his girlfriend on a student website. From everything I know about the deceased, which admittedly isn’t much, I don’t think he was responsible for the picture. For one thing, he comes from a nice family. I just don’t see him doing something like that. But then I don’t see him framing the wrong boy for a crime either.”

  “Who else is on your list of suspects? I’d like to take a guess. Then you can tell me if I’m right when you find out.”

  Since the “game” seemed to amuse her, Rex continued his review of the case. “The professor’s girlfriend herself could have done it, but there’s the problem of getting into the boy’s room. The killer must have climbed in through a vent in the ceiling. Only the occupant of the above room or someone close to him would likely have known about it.”