by Clea Simon
‘Whatever it is, it’s not statistics. I had to take that, too, didn’t you?’ Dulcie shrugged and shook her head. She had a vague memory of tables and percentages. But any mathematics she’d once known had long ago been pushed out of her mind by author biographies, varieties of typefaces, and the ever-present search for a thesis topic. She looked down at the odd lines, wondering if maybe something there would ring a bell.
//use the new Jcode @SmileyMe.frame.pack.
Hellowlow.code =.frame
None of it made sense to her. She looked up at Luke. ‘Maybe it’s gibberish?’
‘Maybe.’ Luke went back to the clothes. His box was nearly full.
Dulcie kept reading: “sweetheart:))) use //linecode.”
If it wasn’t homework, maybe it was a love note; some kind of code between Tim and his smitten tutor. She thought of the distraught Luisa. If she saw her again, she’d ask. In the meantime, she folded the page up and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. Whatever this was, nobody else had to see it.
‘That’s it, I think.’ Luke stood up and looked around. Dulcie handed him the last pile of papers, and he squashed down the clothes to make room for them. Finally, the mess was gone, all somehow contained in the four large boxes that Luke had stacked by the wall. The furniture, once distinctively Suze’s and then for a short while covered in her temporary room-mate’s clutter, now looked barren and dorm-like. The last of Tim’s life had been packed away.
‘It wasn’t much, was it? Once you’d packed it up, that is.’ Dulcie found herself talking softly, as if she were back at the funeral. ‘I mean, it’s just stuff.’
‘But he didn’t have much of a life, did he?’ Luke’s face was set and grim. He grabbed one of the boxes and hoisted it on to his shoulder. ‘Let me hump these down to the car. You still up for some dinner?’
‘Definitely.’ Whatever else was going on with him, this man had just cleaned out his dead brother’s room. At the very least, she could keep him company. ‘I can even help with these.’ The box might contain only clothes but it was still heavy. Nevertheless, Dulcie got it up to waist level and headed into the hall.
‘Careful on the stairs!’ he yelled up to her. She heard her own front door open.
‘Watch out for—’ Dulcie stopped herself. Would she ever stop asking visitors to watch out for the cat? But Luke was already outside, loading the box into the back of a Mini Cooper. She slipped on her flip-flops and joined him.
Two trips later, the little car was full and she was about to lock the apartment door behind them when she remembered. ‘Oh, Luke? Did you bring Tim’s laptop?’
‘Next best thing.’ He leaned back against the cute little car, sweating from the exertion. The night had cooled, but the humidity remained high. ‘Tim’s old tutor wanted to look at it and came by my folks’ place. Said she’d made some notes on testing for him that she needed. Since she wasn’t likely to get a recommendation, I figured it was the least I could do. But I told her you had dibs on it. She promised to be done with it by tonight. In fact, she said she’d meet us in the Square.’
Luisa? Dulcie bit her lip in thought. Maybe the tutor did want copies of her test tips. More likely though, she was hoping to destroy any trace of her relationship with Tim before Bruce could find out. If the printout in Dulcie’s pocket was any indication, Luisa and Tim had at least exchanged some unscholarly notes. And, based on what Stacia had told her, maybe there was photographic evidence of the relationship as well. Whatever the truth of the matter, it wasn’t like Dulcie had any choice.
‘Sure, where are we meeting her?’
‘I’ll give her a call now.’ He pulled out his cell and punched in a number while Dulcie finished locking up and tried not to eavesdrop.
‘You have access? Oh, sure. Fine. Fifteen minutes then? Great.’ Luke closed the phone. ‘She’s got a dinner date in the Square, too, I guess. Anyway, she’s meeting her friend on the Widener steps, so we can pick up the laptop when we get in. Is that OK?’ He opened the car door for her.
‘That’s great. Thanks.’ It wasn’t really. Something was nagging at Dulcie that she couldn’t put her finger on. Of course, driving around in a car packed with her dead room-mate’s clothes could be unnerving. But Dulcie couldn’t fight the feeling that something was off – something she should be taking note of. Even with the car’s powerful air-conditioning and the cool comfort of the leather seats, she was glad when Luke found a space right on Quincy and backed the car neatly into the metered spot.
‘You’re OK with leaving all this stuff here?’ As Dulcie closed the car door, she looked at the boxes piled in the back. How Luke had backed into the space was a mystery.
‘Sure.’ He beeped the car’s alarm on. ‘It’s just clothes.’ Clothes that cost more than anything she owned, thought Dulcie as she waited for Luke to step around and join her on the brick sidewalk. A week night in the middle of summer, and still Harvard Yard was crowded. There were enough summer school students for other teachers’ classes, she noticed with a grimace. A pack of Japanese tourists walked by, their eyes fixed on their leader’s long-stemmed plastic rose rather than the historic brick buildings around them. Another group, speaking what sounded like German, crossed the yard on a facing path.
‘Now this looks like a campus.’ As they walked down the path the Japanese tourists had vacated, Luke seemed to relax. ‘Old brick, just the right amount of trees.’
‘Isn’t Stanford like this?’ She had to hurry a bit to keep up with his long stride. He noticed and stopped, looking over at Emerson Hall.
‘You kidding? For starters, it’s all sandstone, not brick. And there are palm trees, if you can believe it. It’s all very California.’
‘Sounds nice.’ As they passed between the two buildings, she pointed to Sever Hall. ‘Now that’s my favorite building here; H.H. Richardson, Romanesque. It’s from 1880, so it’s really rather late for my area of interest, but I always think those towers look Gothic. Aren’t they great?’
Luke nodded, but Dulcie noticed that he was looking at her, rather than the molded brick. She pointed to the low arch over the building’s front entrance. ‘Did Tim ever tell you the Sever secret?’
‘Nope.’ He smiled. ‘Are you allowed to tell a Cardinal?’
‘Hey, cardinals are red. That’s close to Crimson.’ She grabbed his hand to pull him along – and immediately dropped it. ‘Come with me.’
Together they walked toward the wide stone steps. ‘Now, stand here.’ She positioned Luke by one end of the arch. ‘Lean your head in a bit.’ Walking to the other side, she found herself humming. Whatever had been bothering her before had been left outside the Yard gates.
‘So, what do you think?’ She had turned into the arch to speak, but looked back in time to see him jump and laugh.
‘Wow! That’s great.’ He was speaking into the arch now, the brick curve’s acoustics carrying the words right into her ear. ‘Can you hear me?’ Luke had lowered his voice, but the soft sound came through loud and clear.
‘Uh-huh.’ She caught the breathiness in her own voice. Somehow, standing a dozen feet away felt more intimate than being alone in her apartment.
‘I’m glad, Dulcie. I’ve been wanting to tell you—’
‘Ow!’ A sharp nip, not quite a bee sting, made her reach down to grab her foot. In a moment, Luke was by her side.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Something bit me.’ Dulcie examined the top of her foot. No mark or swelling had appeared yet.
‘A yellow jacket, maybe? I saw some when we crossed the lawn.’
‘I don’t know.’ She wasn’t about to tell him that it had felt like one of Mr Grey’s playful nips; the kind he gave her when she wasn’t paying proper attention. ‘I’m sorry. What were you saying?’
‘It can wait.’ He looked around; another tour group was crowding into the arch. ‘I almost forgot about the laptop, but we should pick it up. That girl will be waiting.’
Damn that cat, Dulcie thou
ght as they both turned toward the library. Or, at least, damn whatever had interrupted Luke; he had seemed about to make a promising confidence. In companionable silence, they walked over toward Widener. The big library’s stone steps, still damp from the afternoon’s shower, were cluttered with tour groups, each jostling for placement. Next to the bronze statue purporting to be John Harvard, these stone steps were the top photo stop on the Yard tour. Dulcie remembered how slippery they could be, even without the crowds, and took off her flip-flops.
‘These steps can be murder,’ she explained with a smile as she bent down to pick up the polka-dotted sandals. ‘Slippery when wet.’
Then they heard the scream. Screams, really, as half a dozen tourists backed their fanny packs into each other, clearing a space halfway up the wide steps. ‘Aiuto!’ A man’s voice called for help. As the crowd backed up, Luke stepped forward, grabbing Dulcie’s hand and pulling her up the stairs and into the crowd.
There, face down on the wide steps, lay a young woman, her dark curls spread out around her.
‘Don’t touch her!’ Another voice yelled above the rest, but somebody hadn’t heard. Hands reached down to flip the woman over, at the same time, pulling down her denim skirt to cover slim, tanned thighs.
A woman – a Southerner from her accent – pushed forward. ‘Is she hurt?’
Luke broke through, with Dulcie close behind. ‘Oh, my God!’ The words burst from Dulcie. ‘It’s Luisa.’ The pretty tutor was lying on her back, a trickle of blood on her mouth and more on her forehead, where she must have hit the stone. Someone reached over to put her purse by her side. But even as the crowd backed up to allow the EMTs through, Dulcie could see that the ground around her was bare. There were no signs of a laptop computer, not even a shard of plastic, anywhere near the fallen girl.
Twenty-One
‘Coming through. Watch out.’ Luke and Dulcie backed up as the Harvard cop made a pathway through the crowd. Over his blue-uniformed shoulder, Dulcie could see that Luisa was coming to, moving her head and one arm as the EMTs lifted her on to a stretcher.
‘These stairs! In winter they put down those wooden risers, but I swear, it’s just as bad in the rain.’ The voice, a little way behind them, caused Dulcie to turn around. Sure enough, behind a family of khaki-clad tourists, she spied an orange and green tropical print.
‘Mona!’ Dulcie pushed her way back to the flamboyant librarian. ‘Did you see what happened?’
‘I just heard the scream. These stairs, I swear.’ A large man in a Red Sox T-shirt jostled Dulcie and, for a moment, she had reason to be grateful that she had removed her own flip-flops.
‘You think it was an accident?’ asked Dulcie
‘Sure, what else?’ But before Dulcie could explain, Luke was by her side again.
‘Dulcie, I’ve got to run. I’m sorry. There’s an emergency.’ At that word, Dulcie’s gaze automatically went over to the ambulance. Luisa was still strapped down, but she seemed to be talking to the EMTs, answering questions and pointing. ‘I mean, a different emergency.’ Luke had the grace to look shamefaced. ‘Nothing so serious, but I’ve got to run. I’m sorry. Dinner another night?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Dulcie couldn’t focus on him now. What was Luisa pointing at? She craned to see over the heads of the small crowd, but the EMTs had loaded the injured girl into the ambulance and were driving in the direction of Massachusetts Avenue. The University Health Services probably qualified as the closest emergency room. Even on foot, Dulcie could be there in five minutes. Should she follow? The lack of the laptop could mean anything. Maybe she’d been about to tell Luke that she needed it for another day. Maybe it had hit the ground further up, and some kind soul had already brought it back into the library, to leave at the front desk or at Lost and Found.
Dulcie turned to climb up the stairs. She wouldn’t be able to talk to Luisa immediately, anyway. But as she mounted the stairs, Mona grabbed her arm.
‘No, Dulcie! You can’t go in.’ Dulcie looked over and noticed, for the first time, that her friend had bitten off most of her usual thick coat of lipstick.
‘Why? What’s wrong?’ Widener shouldn’t be closed for hours yet.
‘They’re kicking everyone out. Everyone! I was supposed to be on till eight.’
Dulcie turned toward her friend and took her hands. Never had she seen Mona, the implacable mistress of the circulation desk, so flustered. ‘What’s happening, Mona? Is there a fire? Anthrax?’
‘Worse!’ Her penciled-in brows rose almost to her hairline in emphasis. ‘The hackers have been at it again. The virus is trying different ways to get into our system.’
‘Whoa.’ Dulcie stepped back. Was this related somehow to the problems with her computer? Could this be linked to Priority? She shook her head. Computer crime was everywhere, but what would electronic embezzling have to do with students trying to change their library records?
‘Hey, Mona, since you’re off, you want to grab some dinner?’ Dulcie felt a serious need to talk this all out.
‘Wish I could, Dulcie.’ Mona’s voice went uncharacteristically soft. ‘I’ve got to be back here within an hour. Security wants us all to bring our laptops in. They say the program will continue to attack our firewall until it gets in, and they’re looking everywhere for the source. We’re all under suspicion!’
Mona lumbered off, her jungle print swallowed up by the T-shirts of tourists, and Dulcie was left alone, thinking. Granted, Mona thrived on drama. But what she’d said was ringing chimes in Dulcie’s head. She thought of Priority, Tim, the cops, and Helene’s brutish ex, who seemed to have some grudge against her. And then Luke running off just when it seemed something might be about to happen between them. It was all too much. Dulcie needed a friendly face. But then, she realized, so did Luisa.
Dulcie had to wait a good forty-five minutes before she could find out anything about Luisa’s condition. The EMTs had indeed taken the bloodied girl to the University Health Services; Dulcie had a glimpse of her, sitting up in bed and talking to a nurse, before another attendant drew the curtain closed. The fact that she was talking seemed like a good sign, although the bloody lip and hairline had been covered by bandages that wrapped all the way around her head.
‘I hope they don’t have to shave her head.’ Dulcie didn’t realize she’d spoken out loud until a young doctor turned and smiled.
‘Not to worry. She’s just scraped her forehead. Scalp wounds bleed a lot.’ The doctor turned to walk off, and Dulcie grabbed his arm.
‘Wait, please. Can you tell me anything more about how she’s doing?’ He blinked. ‘She’s a friend,’ Dulcie added. God, that sounded weak.
But the young doctor – maybe he was still an intern – had pity. ‘It’s Luisa Estrella, right? Let me check.’ He ducked down a hall and, for a moment, Dulcie feared that he’d slipped away. But a moment later, he returned, his smile bigger than before.
‘I just grabbed her attending physician. Your friend will be fine.’ Dulcie let out a sigh. She hadn’t realized how worried she had been. ‘But she hit her head, so we’re going to keep her for observation. I can even get you in to say “hi” if you want.’
‘Could you?’ Dulcie didn’t know when Luisa had flipped from being a suspect back to being a friend. But she was hurt and in the hospital and Dulcie felt she could probably use a friendly greeting right now.
‘Come with me.’ He led the way. ‘She may be a bit out of it. She got whacked pretty hard.’
‘Got it.’ The young doctor pulled back the curtain around Luisa’s bed and stepped aside as Dulcie walked into the room. Three other beds lay empty, their white sheets folded up to flat pillows. Below the bandages, Luisa’s dark hair was still in luxuriant evidence, spread out over an equally flat pillow, but her tawny skin looked almost pale, vaguely green against the hospital white.
‘Hey, Luisa. You OK?’ Dulcie spoke softly
Dark eyes blinked open. ‘Dulcie.’ Luisa started to smile, but winced instead. That cut
lip must hurt. ‘I’m sorry. The laptop.’
‘It’s fine, Luisa. I’ll get it another time.’ Dulcie stopped herself from the automatic comforting. ‘I mean, you didn’t bring it with you, right? You must have left it at home or something?’
‘No, I had it.’ Luisa tried to shake her head, but the effort made her close her eyes. ‘I had it with me.’ Her voice was fading. ‘I was waiting. You were late. It was crowded. Someone shoved me . . .’ Her eyes flashed open, but Dulcie didn’t think they were seeing her – or the hospital room. ‘Bruce was so angry. And that friend of his . . .’ The long, lush lashes slowly closed and the voice faded.
‘What friend?’ Luisa didn’t respond. ‘What are you saying? Someone pushed you?’
Those dark lashes fluttered. ‘Bruce, and his friend . . .’ Dulcie tried to remember the names of Tim’s other buddies as Luisa’s voice faded further. ‘Luke,’ she whispered, and fell silent. But into that silence a loud beep-beep-beep broke in, a machine by the side of the bed suddenly flashing a warning red light.
‘Excuse me, Miss. Excuse me.’ Suddenly the young doctor was by her side and leaning over Luisa. Another pair of hands placed themselves firmly on Dulcie’s upper arms and shoved her aside.
‘You’ll have to leave now, Miss.’ With a hiss, the curtain was drawn between her and the silent young girl. The voices of the medical professionals were barely audible, soft and urgent, but they couldn’t help to answer any of the questions in her head.
Back out on the street, Dulcie realized that not only was she more confused than before, she was famished. And, despite the negative connotations, the pho place was only half a block away. Within minutes, she had placed an order – chicken, wide noodles – and was checking her voicemail. Where was Suze? Why was she going missing just now, when all hell was breaking loose? Should she, sigh, call Lucy? A hand on her shoulder made her jump.
