by Ada Madison
Next I had to distract him. He’d been fishing around my briefcase on and off through the trip and still hadn’t found the plastic sleeve with the SD card. I needed to help him.
“Let me tell you where the card is,” I said.
“No funny business,” he repeated. I felt more than saw his strange, suspicious look. “Why would you be helping me?”
I let out a heavy breath. “Okay, Monty, I admit I’m hoping you’ll change your mind if I make it easy for you to get what you want.” He seemed to be considering this. I spoke quickly before he could figure out my plan. “Turn the briefcase so the flap is toward you.”
He obeyed. A good start. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered, ready for the next step.
“See that lineup of folders? There are two yellow ones in front.”
“Yeah.”
“Now just separate the two yellow folders.”
While Monty was busy, ever so slightly relaxing his aim with the gun, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the pin Kira had given me. It had taken some amount of dexterity to remove it from the box and unlock the clasp, but the tissue ploy had given me access. I gave a silent nod of thanks to Ariana for forcing me to do the finger exercises necessary for beadwork.
“Way down, between the two yellow folders…” I began, grateful that Monty obliged with a slight bending of his head.
I oriented the pin with the fingers of my right hand and jabbed the sharp point into Monty’s neck. Even though I closed my eyes at the last fraction of a second before stabbing Monty, my aim was good and I heard the scream I was hoping for.
I jammed on the brakes inches behind a blue Camry. I’d arrived at the light, third in line in my lane. It had turned red, but I would have slammed to a stop no matter what the signal was. The gun fell to the floor as Monty clutched his neck, from which blood was shooting out. I clicked off my seat belt, opened the door, and…
I think I screamed. Or fainted. Or both.
I’d always wondered what it would take for the president of Henley College to send me flowers. Not really, but the arrival of a large bouquet in a lovely vase was quite a surprise. Though the note read only “Wishing you a speedy recovery,” I suspected she meant, Thanks for getting Heinous Murder on Campus Still Unsolved off the front page.
With the mayor’s killer behind bars, the crimes of fraud and embezzlement, by Principal Richardson and Superintendent Collins, respectively, had moved to the top spots on the news. The college, now free of investigative activity and bloodstains, slipped off the chart.
It felt pretty good, being pampered over a simple sprained ankle—apparently I’d fallen out of my car, miraculously avoiding being run down by the vehicle in the next lane. I wished I could thank the unknown person who saw the wounded Monty try to run, and flagged down a cop.
Ariana, just back from San Diego, hadn’t even unpacked before heading over to bring her special teas and mantras. It had disturbed me that I’d had to sacrifice the structural integrity of my beautiful puzzle pin, but Ariana assured me she’d have no trouble repairing it. Or teaching me how to.
Many students and faculty sent congratulations or get well emails. Elysse’s included a special message:
I hope you noticed my complete apology on Facebook, Dr. Knowles. I wish I could take it all back. You’re the best.
Kira, who’d heard the news from her former dorm mates, called from California. I knew that of all the Henley College community, Kira would be most thrilled to have this closure. Someday I’d tell her how I overcame a tall, fit tennis player using her gift to me.
Visiting hours at my home were flexible, and on Wednesday evening there was a modest gathering. Bruce and Ariana hovered; Fran brought a complete dinner to match the one she’d served in her home, down to the homemade ice cream sandwiches I’d been bragging about; and Virgil was exceptionally forthcoming in tying up loose ends.
I couldn’t have been happier. Driving my own car to a possible unfortunate end while being held at gunpoint by a crazed killer seemed a small price to pay.
We sat around my expanded kitchen table. Virgil looked even happier than I did as he asked for more gravy on his pot roast. I seized the moment. I had two questions, which I labeled “The mysteries of Chris and the Brick.”
“Did Chris know what her brother had done?” I asked Virgil.
With his meat and potatoes newly drizzled with excellent gravy, thanks to me (by proxy), how could he refuse to answer a simple question?
“Looks like she didn’t have a clue. She said that after the fight with the mayor that night, she’d gone straight to the ladies’ room down the hall to fix herself up, and by the time she was ready to leave the building, there was a commotion down by the fountain.”
“She must be pretty broken up,” Fran said.
“Oh yeah,” Virgil said. Wordy for him.
“I guess we can safely assume that Monty was responsible for the brick that crashed through my door and the note under Elysse’s door?” I asked Virgil.
He nodded. “Monty was hoping to distract you. Give you something else to think about. He wanted it to look like a kid’s prank. Then, later, what he wanted from you was that little card.”
I was grateful for Virgil’s pouring out of information, relatively speaking, when he didn’t have to. “Thanks, Virgil,” I said. “More gravy?”
“I can’t believe I missed all this,” Ariana said.
“Wait till you hear the long version,” Bruce said.
Later, Bruce and I snuggled on the couch in my den.
In a typical philosophical mood, we moved beyond the events of the past few days. As if anyone would ask us, we mused over what Henley historians might write about the main players in the case.
“That two guys supposedly working for our schoolkids were out for themselves and a better retirement,” Bruce said.
“That Chris Sizemore blames herself for the outcome,” I said.
“She probably thinks the mayor would be alive today if she’d simply dealt more maturely with his rejection.”
“And the third in the line of the Graves mayors, Edward P.?” I asked. “What will history say about him?”
“That he was not a simple man,” Bruce said.
“He was on the right side, the students’ side, of the law on education issues,” I said.
“But on the wrong side of graft.”
“Then there was his ego.”
“You mean what drove him to befriend and perhaps mislead young women?” Bruce asked. “I get that.”
A punch in the ribs and a long kiss ended that thread.
“One thing we know,” Bruce said. “He picked you out of the crowd to trust. That tips the scales in his favor.”
I couldn’t have asked for a better solution to a puzzle.
FUN (EXERCISES)
Sophie Knowles doesn’t expect that everyone will be able to unwind with arithmetic, but she feels that doing puzzles, brainteasers, and mental arithmetic keeps you sharp, and improves your memory and your powers of observation. Here are some samples of puzzles and games that exercise your wits.
Browse in your bookstore, library, and online for more brainteasers, and have some fun!
BRAINTEASER #1
Here’s the first exercise, a brainteaser, a classic with many variations: “The Fox, the Chicken, and the Sack of Grain.”
You have a fox, a chicken, and a sack of grain. You must cross a river with only one of them at a time. If you leave the fox alone with the chicken, he will eat it; if you leave the chicken alone with the grain, it will eat the grain.
How can you get all three across safely?
BRAINTEASER #2
In this puzzle, three numbers, 16, 14, and 38, need to be assigned to one of the rows of numbers below. To which row should each number be assigned? (Hint: This is not a mathematical problem. The numerical values are irrelevant.)
RIDDLES
1. Here’s a riddle for the junior high set:
Why should you nev
er mention the number 288 in front of anyone?
2. And another for kids:
Who’s the fattest knight at King Arthur’s Round Table?
3. And a more challenging one for adults:
Two friends, Peter and Jenny, are chatting:
“Peter, how old are your children?”
“Well, Jenny, there are three of them and the product of their ages is 36.”
“That’s not enough information, Peter.”
“The sum of their ages is exactly the number of sodas we’ve drunk today,” Peter added.
“That’s still not enough.”
“Okay, the last thing I’ll tell you is that my oldest child wears a red hat.”
How old were each of Peter’s children?
MATH PUZZLES
Here are two math puzzles that ask you to figure out the next in the sequence:
A. What’s the next number in this series?
11
21
1211
111221
312211
13112221
B. What’s the next number in this series?
11 1,331 161,051 19,487,171
ANSWERS
ANSWER TO BRAINTEASER #1
Take the chicken across (the fox can be left with the grain) and come back alone.
Take the grain across and come back with the chicken.
Leave the chicken and take the fox across (the fox is with the grain again—hope he’s not starving!) and come back alone.
Take the chicken across.
Done!
ANSWER TO BRAINTEASER #2
The numbers are organized by shape. In Row A, all the numbers have rounded shapes. In Row C, all the numbers have linear shapes. Row B is a mix of curves and lines. Therefore, 16 goes to Row B, 14 goes to Row C, and 38 goes to Row A.
ANSWERS TO RIDDLES
It’s too (two) gross!
The fattest knight is Sir Cumference. He got that way from eating too much pi. (Sophie can hear your groans!)
Let’s start with the known product, 36. Write on a sheet of paper the possible combinations of three numbers giving a product of 36: 6, 6, 1; 6, 3, 2; 9, 2, 2. Knowing that the sum is not enough must mean that there’s more than one possible combination with the same sum. That brings us to either 9, 2, 2 or 6, 6, 1. Since we learned further that the “oldest” son wears a hat, it is clear that the correct combination of ages is 9, 2, 2, where there is exactly one of them who can be oldest, the other two being twins.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES
A.
ANSWER: 1113213211
SOLUTION: Each line describes the line above. The last line is: one one (11), one three (13), two ones (21), three twos (32), and one one (11), or 1113213211.
B.
ANSWER: 2,357,947,691
The numbers are 11 to the first power, 11 to the third power, 11 to the fifth power, and 11 to the seventh power. The next number would be 11 to the ninth power, or 2,357,947,691.
