Murder Most Studious

by L. M. Thornburg

  There is nothing in the file about Julie making a complaint against Brigg. Although it’s possible if she talked to Ms. Bowerton about it, that Ms. Bowerton didn’t put anything about it in her file. Especially if she was reporting Brigg, who Ms. Bowerton seemed to be protecting for some reason.

  I close the file and tuck it safely back into my bag, frustrated at not finding anything that neatly ties all of this up. I could ask Julie if Brigg hurt her, but I don’t want to scare her. And questioning her seems unneeded at the moment. After hearing about the girl at his old school accusing him of harassment and everything Samantha told me, it seems like a strong possibility that he did something to Julie, too. So I will just assume that’s what happened.

  But what does any of this have to do with Frank? I need to get out of my apartment for some air and to clear my head. Once I’m outside, I see students and faculty walking back from the dining hall. I look at my phone and see it’s almost seven. I’ve completely forgotten about dinner.

  I pace around the trails with no specific destination in mind. It’s getting dark and the lamps are coming on. I button my coat. Now that the sun’s going down, the temperature is dropping.

  I continue my quick pace, lost in my whirling thoughts, until I’m startled by someone walking directly towards me. I look around. I’m at the edge of the woods, far away from any school buildings.

  “Hello Alice! Out for an evening stroll?” Ms. Bowerton calls, coming closer to me.

  “Yes, I needed to clear my head, so I thought I’d take a quick walk,” I say.

  “Did you miss dinner? I don’t think I saw you in the dining hall.”

  “I did. I’ll grab a sandwich at home,” I say, wondering why Ms. Bowerton would notice my absence at dinner. We aren’t required to be at meals unless it’s our month for dining duty. “Is that okay?”

  “Of course. I like to make sure all of my staff are okay,” Ms. Bowerton says, and then a small trickle of blood comes out of her nose.

  “Oh, Ms. Bowerton, your nose. It’s bleeding. Are you okay?” I ask, pointing. I feel around in my pocket, looking for a tissue to pass her.

  “I’m fine. I’ve gotten regular nose bleeds since I was a girl. I’ll just be walking along and it will come out of nowhere. My parents took me to multiple doctors, and they all said it was nothing to worry about. Just one of those unexplained things that happens,” she says with a shrug.

  This makes me pause, but I’m not entirely sure why. This entire conversation has been odd, as though I’m missing something important, but I don’t know what.

  I finally find a tissue and pull it out to hand to her, but there’s something else wrapped in the tissue. When I look down, I see the button I found under the tower. And then I notice Ms. Bowerton’s coat, which is missing a button at the collar. A red button. Just like the one in my hand.

  Before I can stop myself, I reach out to touch the spot. Ms. Bowerton looks down at the spot, then gives me a searching look.

  “Well, it looks like your nose has stopped bleeding. I’d better get back. I have some papers to grade,” I say, giving her a bright smile. Ms. Bowerton says nothing as I quickly walk past her and head in the direction of my apartment.

  My mind is reeling. Ms. Bowerton must have pushed Brigg off the tower. He must have grabbed for her and ripped the button off of her coat. But why would she kill him when it seems she’s always protecting him? Then I think about the nosebleed and I remember Julie’s school file. Is Mrs. Bowerton is Julie’s biological mother?

  Julie must have told her Brigg was harassing her, and Ms. Bowerton killed him for it. I can imagine any mother would want to do the same thing if someone was hurting their child.

  I pick up my pace, trying to put as much distance as I can between us, hoping Ms. Bowerton didn’t even notice that I was acting odd. I’ve almost reached the chapel, but too late.

  “Slow down and I’ll walk with you,” Ms. Bowerton says, coming up beside me and putting her arm through mine. “There’s no need to rush back to grading, when it’s such a lovely evening.”

  I look down at her left arm looped through mine and see a small gun in her right hand pointing at my waist. My pulse races and my breath catches. I feel as though I’ve been plunged into an icy bath.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask, looking down at the gun again.

  “My missing button. I could tell by the look on your face you figured out what I’ve done. You must have found my button the morning you found Brigg’s body. When I noticed it was gone after that night, I went back and searched all over the tower for it. I never found it, so I convinced myself I must have lost it before that night.”

  “It was on the ground under the tower. I found it beside Brigg’s body. I put it in my coat pocket, but forgot about it,” I say.

  “Ah, yes. He probably still had it in his hand when he fell. I didn’t want to kill him, you know. I’m not that sort of person. The first time I met Brigg, I thought he was brilliant. I was even the tiniest bit attracted to him. I only saw him a handful of times when he was visiting friends at King’s College. One night I had a little too much to drink and thought I was only spilling my guts to my best friend. I didn’t realize until it was too late that he was in the room with us.”

  She laughs. “That was the worst mistake of my life. I put up with the man for years. Years! Of him forcing me to do whatever he wanted and paying him money. I’m the only reason he was hired here. Everyone else was against it, but I vouched for him and that’s all it took. All of this so he would keep my secret.”

  “Julie Schneider?” I ask.

  “Oh, Julie. My beautiful, amazing mistake. She is such a perfect child. She’s incredibly smart and talented. She has the potential to change the world.”

  “But why did it matter that Brigg knew Julie was your daughter? Why keep paying him?” I ask, hoping to keep the headmistress talking.

  “It would have caused such a scandal. It would have ruined my career. I’m sure I wouldn’t have secured the headmistress position if they knew I had a child out of wedlock and given her up for adoption. And I didn’t want to hurt Julie. Her adopted parents are lovely. She’s happy. Or she was. Then Brigg went too far,” she says, her hands beginning to shake.

  “When she came to me and told me what Brigg was doing to her, I knew what I had to do. I would not let him prey on my beautiful child. She is too good and innocent for him to be putting his disgusting hands on.”

  “It was easy to convince him to meet me on the tower. I just told him I wanted to discuss lowering my monthly blackmail payment. Of course, he didn’t want that to happen. He was as greedy as he was sick, so he agreed to a meeting. Then all I had to do was pull out my gun, walk him to the edge, and push him off. He had no idea I would actually do it. He’s been taking advantage of me for so long, he assumed it would go on forever.”

  “But what about Frank? Why did you kill him?” I ask. I glance down at the gun again and see it’s no longer pointing directly at me. She’s getting distracted by her confession.

  We’ve walked deeper into the woods, but I feel certain I can outrun her with a head start. I just need to knock her down to get the advantage.

  “Poor Frank,” she continues, shaking her head. “Everything would have been over. I left the suicide note in Brigg’s office that gave the police a straightforward answer to what happened. We could have all gone on to live happier lives. But Frank has trouble sleeping and sometimes walks the grounds at night. He should have gone to the police with what he saw. Instead, he wanted to talk to me about it. He hated Brigg, and I think he was just happy to see him gone. I think he probably would have kept my secret. But I could never be certain he wouldn’t tell the police in the future, so I had to get rid of him. It was unfortunate.”

  “What are you going to do with me?” I ask, preparing to make my move. “I have nothing to do with this.”

  “But now you know what I did, so I have to get rid of you, too. It will take them weeks to
find your body in the woods and figure out what I’ve done. And by then Julie and I will be long gone,” she says. “I’m going to take my daughter and make a new life for us. I should never have given her up, but I was so young and just starting my career. I thought it was the best thing for both of us, but it was impossible to forget about her.”

  “Are you the reason she’s at Ashbourne?”

  “Of course. I found her, then sent information about scholarship opportunities. I didn’t have to do much to help her get admitted. She really is incredibly talented.” She takes another couple of steps and then her foot catches on a tree branch and she stumbles.

  It’s just enough to loosen her grip on my arm. I pull free and push her as hard as I can. Then I turn and run.

  Chapter 19

  I run fast, trying to figure out where I am on campus and the fastest way back to safety I wish I had paid more attention to where we were walking. It’s almost completely dark, but the moon is bright tonight, so I have some light. I can hear Ms. Bowerton yelling behind me, but I just keep going. I hope she dropped the gun when she fell. Otherwise she might begin blindly shooting.

  I chance a glance behind me, attempting to see how close Ms. Bowerton is, but this is a mistake. In the second I take to look back, my equilibrium is thrown off and I trip, falling hard. I scramble up as quickly as I can and keep moving. My hands and knees hurt, and I notice something running down my arm. Blood. I must have cut my hand when I fell.

  I can see lights ahead, so I keep heading in that direction. Thankfully, we stayed on the trail that winds through the woods. That makes it easier to figure out where I am. I can see the edge of the woods and ahead of me is the admissions building. It will be empty by now, so I limp past.

  I don’t want to endanger any of the students, so I veer to the right toward the staff housing. My apartment building is straight ahead. I move as fast as I can, not looking back. Praying I can get inside without being shot.

  As soon as I run through the door, I slam it behind me and pull the deadbolt. There are a few people in the common area that stop talking and stare at me.

  “What’s going on?” one of the men asks, standing up and moving towards me. “Are you okay? You’re bleeding.”

  I’m leaning against the door, panting, with blood dripping off my hand, but I manage, “Call the police!”

  Another staff member whips out her cell phone and dials, repeating everything I say to the dispatcher. Other staff are coming out of their apartments now to see what’s going on. And a few minutes later, Freya’s there.

  “Come sit down, love. You’re as white as a ghost,” she says, steering me to a chair by the fireplace. “Someone bring a first aid kit! And a drink!”

  She holds my hand, worrying over me until someone thrusts bandages at her.

  “I’m afraid you might need stitches. This is a deep cut, but this will have to do for now until we get everything figured out.”

  A few minutes later, someone hands me a glass of whiskey, and I take a sip. And then another. I realize that I’m shaking and so cold. I take another sip and the burn steadies me a little.

  “Better?” Freya asks. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Ms. Bowerton killed Brigg and Frank,” I say, and the entire room literally gasps.

  “That’s pretty serious. Are you sure?” she asks.

  “Yes. She confessed all of it to me in the woods while holding a gun to my side. She tripped, I pushed her and then I ran for it,” I explain. “Can we lock the doors or something, so she can’t get in? She has a gun.”

  Everyone in the room begins talking at once. I look around and realize most of the staff that lives on campus is standing around listening while I talk about what the headmistress did. I’m not sure the police will like it, but it’s too late now. Freya sends several people off to lock the doors at the ends of the hallways, and two men guard the front door. Someone calls over to the student buildings to alert them to what’s happening. I feel certain Mrs. Bowerton would never hurt a student, though. But she might try to get to Julie.

  Freya sits beside me, rubbing my arm until the police arrive. By now I’m feeling better. I’m able to answer the officer’s questions coherently. They call in more police to search the grounds for Ms. Bowerton. Officers and staff are sent to the student dorms to make sure they’re all safe.

  Freya leaves and comes back a few minutes later with a sandwich for me, which I’m incredibly grateful for since I forgot to eat dinner and I’ve had a tumbler of whiskey. The police sit with us, asking more questions and getting updates on their radios.

  No one has seen Ms. Bowerton. After searching her apartment, the police find cyanide tablets and unsigned notes demanding money. Most likely from Brigg. I remember the piece of paper I found in his office and realize it was probably part of blackmail note he’d written to Ms. Bowerton.

  After another hour of waiting, the police are still combing the woods, but the officer sitting with Freya and I says the police don’t think they’re going to find her. A paramedic has looked me over and had my hand bandaged a little better than Freya’s job.

  I’m exhausted, but also scared that the headmistress will come back to kill me. I can’t imagine possibly sleeping tonight. I might ask Freya if I can sleep on her couch.

  It’s very late and most of the staff have returned to their apartments when the front door opens and Malcolm walks in. I jump up and run over to him.

  “How are you here?” I ask tearfully, while he holds me to his chest.

  “Your friend, Freya, called and told me what happened. She knew you wouldn’t want to worry me, but she thought I should know what happened. I left immediately and drove down as fast as possible.”

  I look over at Freya, and she gives me a big smile. I smile back, wondering how she took my phone without me knowing to call Malcolm, but also not caring. I’m just so happy she did. I already feel less anxious.

  “Are you okay?” Malcolm asks, looking closely at my face. “Did she hurt you?”

  “I’m fine. Not hurt, just scared. It’s been quite a night, but the good news is I’m no longer a murder suspect,” I say with a weak laugh.

  Malcolm, Freya, and I wait as the police clear out, then Freya walks with us up to my apartment.

  “Thank you for calling Malcolm,” I say, giving her a hug at my door. “I would have waited until the morning to call him, but I’m so glad he’s here.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re okay and in excellent hands tonight,” Freya says. I watch her walk down the hall to her apartment, then Malcolm and I go inside. I make sure I bolt both locks on the door before sitting down with Malcolm to tell him everything that happened.

  We talk for hours until I can barely keep my eyes open. I fall asleep with Malcolm holding me tight. I’m safe.

  * * * * *

  I don’t wake until the sun is shining through the curtains, which is far too late if I’m going to make it to class on time. I jump out of bed, but then everything that happened last night comes crashing back down on me, and I’m not sure what I should do.

  “Come back to bed,” Malcolm says, lazily.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” I say, panicking. “I’m exhausted, but I’m sure I need to teach my classes.”

  “Call Freya.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I say, reaching for my phone. I have a couple of messages and texts. I listen to the first message from the headmistress’s secretary telling me that because of last night’s unexpected circumstances, they have canceled all classes for the day. And then she says, because of my part in the circumstances, I should take the rest of the week off and relax. Someone will cover my classes.

  Freya’s text and message convey the same things, along with a request to have lunch with her.

  “Whew, it’s fine. Someone is covering my classes,” I say, getting back into bed and snuggling against Malcolm. “And you don’t have to go back today?”

  “I call
ed my boss on the way here last night and said I had an emergency and would need a few days off. Do you want me to stay?” he asks, nuzzling my neck.

  “Yes, of course,” I say.

  “Then I’ll stay,” he says, moving his lips to my mouth.

  We stay in bed most of the morning and then walk down the hall to Freya’s. I can smell something amazing cooking from outside her door. When she ushers us in, we see Samantha and Cat sitting at the table, making a salad.

  They both get up as soon as we come in and hug me.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” Cat says.

  “What a horror,” Samantha says.

  “It was pretty terrifying,” I say, hugging them both back. “You guys remember Malcolm, right?”

  Everyone says hello, then we sit down at the table while Freya serves up a feast.

  “How did you get all of this done this morning? We were up so late last night that I’m barely functioning,” I say.

  “Cooking is therapeutic for me. And Samantha and Cat wanted to make sure you were okay with their own eyes, so I thought I’d make a big lunch for everyone,” she says. She’s made a table full of British comfort foods: bangers and mash, cottage pie, and a Bakewell tart.

  It’s all delicious, although I spend most of the time answering Cat’s and Samantha’s questions about everything that happened last night. They were among the few staff that didn’t wander down to the common area to find out what was going on.

  “I can’t believe it was Ms. Bowerton that killed Brigg and Frank,” Cat says.

  “I know. It seems so out of character for her,” Freya says.

  “People can hide all kinds of things about themselves,” Samantha says.

  “I’m just relieved the police now know I had nothing to do with any of it,” I say.

  “Where do you think Ms. Bowerton is?” Cat asks.

  “Probably on a boat headed to the continent,” Freya says.

  “She told me she was going to take Julie and start a new life somewhere, but she didn’t tell me anything more specific,” I say.