Questionable Results

by R A Wallace

  Alexander’s steadfast refusal to believe that anyone might ever be an enemy or wish to cause harm could be his downfall. As far as the arborist was concerned, the war was a minor misunderstanding that would soon right itself. He looked forward to the day when men of all nationalities could once again sit around a dinner table while smoking their cigars and participate in lively, intellectual discussions on the subject of dissent against one’s government.

  She barely waited for Alexander’s landlady to offer admittance before passing through the front door. Perhaps her brusqueness suggested a need for haste. At either rate, Alexander presented himself within moments of her arrival. She stopped her pacing and turned quickly to face him.

  “Alexander, we must talk.” She did not suggest they take seats. “This time, I will expect to hear the truth. All of it.”

  His confusion was evident but he managed to display a measure of offense at her implication. “I beg your pardon?”

  She drew herself up and met his gaze squarely. “I understand your family has recently suffered a monetary setback.”

  She watched his nostrils flare with his indignation. She knew it was a social breach of great magnitude to discuss finances and fortunes so openly. She lifted her brows to indicate she was waiting for his response. It came in blustery fits of abbreviated sentences.

  “How dare! This is beyond the pale! To think any lady would ever consider discussing.” He huffed out an angry word then turned his back on her.

  She watched his body tremble as he worked to get himself in control. When he did, he turned back to her. This time, the angry face of a moment ago was gone. In its place was the smiling face of a man without care that he usually presented to her.

  “I see. You have taken it upon yourself to negotiate terms for the two of us.” He nodded as though it made perfect sense. “Philomena and her parents are much too refined to approach me on the subject. Very well.” He motioned to some chairs.

  She ignored him. “Alexander, I am not here to negotiate a formal betrothal between you and Mena. I am here to find a killer.”

  His face took on a look of surprise but his smile never dimmed. “Isn’t that a matter for the police?”

  “You are ignoring my point. Your family has recently lost a great sum of money to our enemy.” She took a step closer to him. “A man known to have developed a secret code that could turn the tide of this war has been killed. You were there when it happened, Alexander. Indeed, you were the last man known to have touched the victim before the police arrived.”

  As she watched a shuttered look come over his eyes, she wondered if Alexander had taken Marcus Sidehill’s notes.

  “A suspected dissenter of the war was also in the woods that day. He is said to be your friend.” She saw a spark of something light his eyes but had no idea what caused it. “Did Humphrey Leeson put you up to something?”

  The easy-going Alexander was firmly in place. “Hardly. Everything you speak of is nothing but a temporary circumstance. My family has had monetary setbacks before.” He shrugged easily. “One should only invest if they can afford to lose it.”

  She wondered how true that was in the case of the Boardman family. Could they afford such a loss?

  “I know many people, including the two men I was with when we discovered the unfortunate victim of murder.” He lifted both hands. “I was only trying to help when I checked for vital signs. Ask George or Arthur.”

  “Did you know Marcus Sidehill as well?” She saw a flicker in his eyes again. “You did. You knew the victim.”

  “As I said, I know many people. In the case of Marcus, we happened to share an interest in nature.”

  Her mind raced through the possible ramifications. “Did you know he was a mathematician?”

  “What does it matter? For all you know, Marcus may have already sold his code to the enemy.” He reached for a framed photograph on a table and absently moved it to the center. “To be honest, if it ended the war more quickly, it would be for the better. Then we can all go back to the way things were.”

  She contemplated arguing with him but knew she didn’t have the time. “Did Humphrey Leeson know Marcus Sidehill?”

  Alexander’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he chose to ignore her question. “Have you spoken with Philomena today? I was hoping to see her. Perhaps we can make plans for the evening. The weather is cooperating. It should be a lovely night.”

  She skirted around him without answering. She made it to Glennon Hall as the last student was filing into her classroom. She taught the session automatically as her mind tried to work through everything she had learned. As soon as the class was over, she made her way to George’s classroom. It was empty. She checked the other classrooms on their floor before descending the grand staircase.

  She found George in the faculty lounge but he was not alone. She hovered near the door as she debated her next move. The conversation she wished to have with him was much too sensitive. In the end, he solved the problem for her. After spotting her at the door, he made his excuses and left the room.

  She walked with him away from the lounge. “I must ask you one other question.”

  “This pertains to that poor man we found in the woods?” He didn’t appear surprised that she would continue to question him on the subject.

  “Marcus Sidehill, yes. I understand that the three of you returned to the campus together. You, Arthur, and Alexander.” She waited for his nod. “Can you tell me why the three of you did not contact the police?”

  He looked surprised. “Of course we did.”

  She saw no duplicity in his earnest look. “George, I’ve spoken to the chief of police.”

  Indecision filled his eyes. “You must be mistaken. Alexander said he would take care of it.”

  “He did? You’re certain of that?”

  “It was a very stressful time. I may be mistaken.” His hand came up to rub the back of his neck. “Perhaps I merely assumed as much. He was the one to check the body, after all. I don’t want to imply that Arthur and I would have been completely hopeless with such a task. But I will say that neither of us argued with Alexander when he volunteered.”

  “I can understand that.” She offered a smile. “Thank you. I will let you get back to the lounge.”

  She left the building wondering why Alexander hadn’t called the police either. It took her several minutes to walk across the campus. She found the two military officers on the sidelines of the basketball court inside the gymnasium. They were watching as other officers put a group of young recruits through calisthenic drilling.

  She compared the two officers as she approached them. Arlie Gibson’s hair was as light as Pierce Byers’s hair was dark. It occurred to her that it was the first time she’d seen them without their caps. Both had them tucked under their arms. Both appeared to be as young as the recruits performing drills.

  “Gentleman, if I might have a moment?” She smiled a greeting as the two turned toward her in unison. It was obvious from their faces that they didn’t share her enthusiasm for the encounter.

  “We’ve already spoken with the police.” Pierce turned back toward the recruits.

  Arlie gave her a sheepish look at Pierce’s behavior. “The police have been here asking us questions again today.”

  “Then you’ve no doubt heard that the situation has become even more serious.” She was happy to see her comment successfully recaptured Pierce’s attention.

  “They asked us about a secret code,” Arlie admitted.

  “What did you tell them?” She watched them share a look.

  “That’s between us and the police,” Pierce said.

  “I spoke with the chief of police a short time ago.” She told herself it wasn’t a lie. The fact that it implied to Arlie and Pierce that Judson had shared their conversation with her was a happy coincidence.

  “We don’t know anything about the code,” Arlie said quickly. “That’s what we told the police.”

  “From
what we were told, the guy that was killed could have sold it to the enemy. Whoever killed him probably did the allies a favor.” Pierce’s scowl made it clear he had no compassion for a traitor. He shifted his focus back to the recruits.

  “I hope it was stopped in time,” Arlie agreed as he stole a look at the young men drilling on the basketball court.

  Delia took a step away as though leaving then immediately turned back. “You two wouldn’t happen to be moving about campus late at night. Would you?”

  The two shared another look.

  “We have rooms in town.” Arlie’s eyes didn’t meet hers.

  Pierce pointed to a group of recruits on the sidelines. “Our units are up next.”

  They began to move away from her before she could speak again. As she left the building, she wondered why both of them refused to answer her question.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As she made her way toward Glennon Hall, Delia encountered dozens of others going in the same direction. All were intent on the same destination. She wondered again at her cousin’s ability to feed hundreds of people several times each day. Of course, those ranks were now swelled with both the military officers and their recruits.

  It was no wonder Hazel was under such stress. In addition to her insecurities about her new roles as mother and wife, her workload had increased dramatically.

  “I wonder what economy of savings we’ll discover for this meal?” The young girl making the comment received several giggles from her companions as the group swarmed around Delia then continued in front of her.

  “Hazel’s efforts are appreciated by many,” Mena said as she joined Delia.

  Mena’s voice startled Delia from her reverie of military officers with secrets. Her mind turned toward a certain arborist who also harbored his fair share of mysteries. It was a subject she was not yet ready to discuss. Delia entered the building with Mena and followed her to the faculty lounge. After leaving their sweater coats, they joined the line leading into the dining room.

  With the doors opened wide, it was possible for several to pass through at the same time. The noise heard in the hallway increased in volume more than tenfold when they stepped into the dining hall as students made their way to their seats. All around the tables, servers were busy filling water glasses and pushing laden carts as they prepared to begin serving the midday meal.

  Throughout the room there were high baroque columns supporting the ceiling. Each of those had shelves around the base about waist high to hold trays. There were also butlers’ trays at one end of each table. The walls were adorned with large paintings of past Glennons and the many benefactors of the school. She’d yet to take the time to look at them all.

  Delia slid into her seat next to Mena and smiled a greeting at their small group seated nearby. The midday meal was a routine they shared together each workday. Though Delia lived on campus, many of the teachers did not. It was convenient for both residents and non-residents to have their midday meal in the dining hall but, for the most part, the other meals of the group members were taken elsewhere.

  Blanche Noble was the last of the group to take her seat. She immediately lifted her water glass as though she’d passed through a desert to reach them. Her eyes scanned the group as she finished drinking.

  “Busy day?” Mena asked the school nurse.

  “More so than usual,” Blanche agreed.

  Delia opened her mouth to ask Blanche another question but a comment by the stenography teacher interrupted her.

  “Scalloped lima beans.” Faye stared down at the plate set in front of her.

  Harriet leaned back as a server set a plate in front of her. “We haven’t had this since last week.” The bookkeeping teacher’s voice was filled with false enthusiasm.

  Mabelle stared at her own plate as she reached for her linen napkin. “It is an excellent use of beans and tomatoes.”

  Delia smiled at the server as a plate was set in front of her. She knew the vegetable dish was layered with lima beans, tomatoes, seasoning, and breadcrumbs. A small amount of butter or vegetable fat was added then the dish was baked.

  Faye leaned closer to Mabelle. “What is the soup?”

  Mabelle eyed the bowl as it was set in front of her but even the domestic science teacher couldn’t tell by looking. She lifted her spoon and tasted it. “I believe it is rabbit chowder.”

  Harriet dipped her spoon into her bowl. “It’s a good thing the government doesn’t consider rabbit a meat.”

  Faye reached for her spoon. “Or chicken or fish.”

  “And game,” Mabelle said. “With such bounties available, going meatless is hardly a sacrifice at all.”

  Delia looked at the lima beans on her plate then reached for her spoon. It was a luxury indeed to have a chowder of some substance. Though technically game, chicken, and fish were not restricted, they were also not particularly plentiful in most cases. Less availability meant increased prices that many couldn’t afford. She wondered how Hazel and the kitchen steward had managed the treat on such a large scale. She doubted anyone was complaining about the scalloped lima beans in the presence of the chowder made with carrots, potatoes, onions, margarine, milk and the rabbit, of course, all thickened with a roux.

  Her eyes returned to Blanche. “I have been hearing about a new serum for the influenza. Does it have any promise?”

  Harriet leaned forward. “Yes, I heard that also. They are saying that the serum has been tested in the Army camps and that it prevents one from catching the influenza.”

  “There, you see?” Mabelle turned to Blanche. “There is no need to worry. The influenza will not trouble us now for sure.” She looked around at the faces of the others. “And hasn’t the newspaper been telling the public there is no need to worry here?”

  “I heard that the warm weather has been causing the influenza to go around us,” Faye said as she pushed her empty chowder bowl away. The smile on her face dimmed as she eyed the scalloped lima beans. She took a deep breath and bravely reached for her fork.

  “Of course, my students will continue with their patriotic duties. We are still making handkerchiefs to send to the soldiers.” Mabelle turned to Blanche again. “I know that you prefer the Japanese paper handkerchiefs, but the newspapers are reporting that one merely needs to soak the fabric ones in salt water before washing them.”

  “I am not certain that will help,” Blanche said with a frown as she pushed her empty chowder bowl away.

  “You will no doubt be happy to hear that my students are also making masks now for the Army camps,” Mabelle added. “Women everywhere are being asked to help. It is said that tens of thousands of gauze masks are needed at the camps to prevent the influenza from spreading there even more.”

  “Very commendable.” Blanche’s smile appeared strained.

  “I read that some of the larger cities are recommending that everyone should wear them,” Mena said quietly.

  Blanche turned toward Mena. “Have you considered how you might clean your books after an outbreak?”

  “Clean?” Mena’s voice sounded unnaturally high as her face drained of color.

  “Disinfect them. It is done in schools all the time for other illnesses such as diphtheria, typhoid fever, scarlet fever and the measles.” Blanche appeared unconcerned about the safety of the books. “It’s merely a matter of fumigation.”

  Delia thought back to the articles she’d read about damage suffered from such practices over the years. Though necessary, as Blanche said, it could also be dangerous. In some cases, entire buildings exploded when the gases were used improperly. In others, unsuspecting people were overcome or killed by the invisible gases that could not be contained to specific areas. Of course, there were also reports of paint peeling from walls after treatment.

  Mena’s scalloped lima beans were still on her plate when they stood to leave the table. Delia followed her to the faculty lounge to retrieve their sweater coats. They filed out of the building in silence.


  “Perhaps if you choose the fumigators yourself?” Delia suggested as they walked toward the library.

  “Mm-hm.” Mena’s voice still retained the unnaturally high pitch.

  When they reached the front desk of the library, Mena walked to the other side but remained standing as she leaned against it. The lights from above glinted from her spectacles as she slowly scanned the rows upon rows of books.

  “I cannot yet give you any answers about Alexander’s possible involvement.” Delia stepped to block Mena’s view and draw attention to herself. “Mena? Alexander.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course.” Mena clasped her hands together in front of her.

  The sound of a cough caused them both to look for the source. It was a student coughing as she walked past the front desk. Mena began frantically scanning the books around her library again. Her eyes widened when she looked toward the entrance.

  Delia turned to see Judson holding the door open for the coughing student. He released the door and walked their way. “Ladies. I’m glad I found you together.”

  “You have news?” Delia guessed.

  Judson glanced at Mena before answering. “The presumed dissenter.”

  Delia nodded to indicate she was following. Judson referred to Humphrey Leeson, the arborist’s friend.

  “His alibi checked out.”

  Mena shifted her eyes between them. “Should I presume you two are using your own secret code of sorts?”

  Delia shot Judson a look then explained Alexander’s relationship to Humphrey Leeson.

  “I see. You believed this man could have been involved, possibly in conjunction with Alexander, in the murder and theft of the secret code.” Mena’s lips pressed together but she didn’t argue Alexander’s innocence.

  “I’m sorry,” Judson said softly before continuing. “Leeson is probably not involved with the theft of the code.”

  “Probably?” Mena asked.

  “Until the case is solved, everyone remains a suspect,” he said. His eyes shifted to Delia. “I’ve done as you asked. I sent my men out to put your plan into motion to draw out the killer. If your witnesses are correct, this plug of a man wearing boots suitable for factory work in water or acid will most likely be found in the area around the river at the south of town.”