A Body In My Office (The Charles Bentley Mysteries Book 1)

by Glen Ebisch

  “Why don’t you let this go, Charles? I don’t want to lose one of my few friends on campus. This person has almost killed you three times. The fourth attempt might be the charm.”

  “I’m not going to do anything that raises any suspicions. I’ll just go to the soup kitchen, check in at my office on campus, and keep in touch with the police to see if they’ve found out anything.”

  Andrea gave him a sceptical look. “Why does this not sound believable to me?”

  “Oh, I may poke around a little, but not in any big way,” he said smiling placidly.

  Andrea got to her feet. “Well, I have to get back to work now. Scholarship waits for no woman.”

  “How’s the article going?”

  “I think I’ve broken the back of it. Now all I have to do it wrap up my conclusion.”

  “I wish I felt that I was well on the way to wrapping up this case.”

  Charles stood up and Andrea gave him a hug. He hung onto her for a second longer than usual, enjoying the closeness of her presence.

  “This isn’t a substitute for that retirement dinner I promised you. We still have to get around to that.”

  “I’d like that,” Charles said, as he walked her to the door.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Charles pulled into the parking lot at the soup kitchen. It had taken him an extra ten minutes to get there because he had followed a very circuitous route that allowed him to go on quiet streets where it was easy to check if he was being followed. Although he thought such safeguards were probably pointless, since the killer knew where he lived and worked and could easily set up there and just wait for him, Charles decided that taking every precaution was probably prudent.

  He went down the stairs to the cellar. A group of woman standing right outside the kitchen glanced up when he walked into the room. He said “hello” but was greeted with only curt nods and cold stares. Rachael had apparently told her version of events to everyone.

  “I see you’ve had the courage to return,” a voice said next to him.

  He turned and saw Nancy, the woman in charge.

  “You’re not the most popular person around right now.”

  “I guess not,” Charles said, watching the group of woman move away from him and reform on the other side of the room.

  “From what I heard, you can’t really blame them.”

  Charles shrugged. “There are two sides to every story, but I guess on either one of them I look pretty bad.”

  A smile played along Nancy’s lips. “Well, at least you aren’t trying to shirk blame. And it’s good to have you back to help John set up the tables. I had to help him yesterday, and my back ached the whole night. The other fellow we had helping John on your days off is in the hospital. Would you be willing to come into work every day until I can find a replacement?”

  Charles agreed, wondering if the fellow was in the hospital with a bad back.

  As if on cue, John came dancing across the floor doing his usual nervous fandango. Charles turned and walked to where the folded tables were leaning against the wall.

  “What are you, some kind of gang member?” John whispered with a self-satisfied smile.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, those are the only guys I ever heard about who get involved in a drive-by shooting. Although I guess you were lucky and managed to hide behind a woman.”

  “It wasn’t a drive-by and I wasn’t hiding.”

  “Sure sounded like it to me. Most of the women threatened to quit if you came back.”

  “They still seem to be here.”

  “Nancy had to beg them to stay. Let’s face it, you aren’t a really popular guy.”

  “Do you want to get started setting up the tables?” Charles said, shoving the first table in John’s direction.

  When the tables were all set up, Charles took his usual place at the serving table. He felt invisible. No one spoke to him or even continued a conversation when he was present. After his stint at serving was finished, he went into the kitchen where Rachel was wrestling with a large pot. He helped her carry it to the sink. She accepted his help without meeting his eye.

  “Have you been to see Karen?” he asked.

  “I saw her yesterday afternoon.”

  “How is she?”

  Rachel gave him a glance as if he had a nerve to ask, but then relented. “She still has some pain, but she’s going to be fine.”

  “I was planning to go see her today. Do you think she’d like that?”

  “I have no idea,” Rachel said, setting her mouth in a firm line.

  “Did she say anything about me?”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “Well, thanks for the information,” Charles said, purposely keeping any hint of sarcasm out of his voice. Rachel had a right to be angry, although a bit more understanding might not have been out of line.

  He checked his watch. It was just after one, when visiting hours began. So he decided to head right over to the hospital and get the chore over with. He didn’t expect Karen to forgive him that wasn’t the point that he had to apologize because he had done something wrong. The least he could have done was explain to her that there might be some risk in associating with him. Even though he hadn’t thought there was much risk, he should have made her aware of the possibility and allowed her to decide for herself. Instead he had deceived her into thinking she was safe. He decided to stop off on the way for a bouquet of flowers.

  The hospital was rather small, nestled into a grove of pine trees and looking more like a small resort than a medical facility. Charles walked through the front doors into a lobby and up to the circular front desk. He asked for Karen Melrose’s room and was directed to go to his right and look for room forty-seven. He walked down the stylishly tiled hall. The walls were covered with paintings that must have been by local artists because each carried a sale price. He wondered who bought paintings off a hospital wall. Charles was still musing over the connections between capitalism and medical care when he reached Karen’s room. After a momentary pause to prepare for what might come, he pushed open the door.

  The first thing he saw was Karen sitting up in bed, looking quite well except for her right shoulder, which was in a sling.

  “Charles,” she said, reaching out dramatically with her left hand, “how good of you to have come.”

  Charles took her hand. On the other side of the bed stood a woman in her thirties who was staring at him fiercely, and he was aware of a man of approximately the same age at the foot of the bed who also seemed less than pleased to see him. In the corner Lieutenant Thorndike looked on with a neutral expression.

  “It was the least I could do,” he said, handing her the flowers.

  “Oh, aren’t they lovely, Angie,” Karen said, handing them to the young woman, who stared at them as though they were weeds.

  “It certainly is the least you could do,” the young man said, coming around the bed toward Charles. Short and rather willowy, Charles didn’t feel he posed much of a physical threat. “We’re going to sue you. Then you’ll find out how much you have to do for getting my mother shot.”

  “We’ll do not such thing,” Karen said sharply.

  “Aww, Ma,” the young man said. “He deserves to pay.”

  “He didn’t shoot me. He was almost killed himself. And I was having a marvellous time until I got shot.” She looked at Charles affectionately. “As you may have gathered, these are my children: Angie, the dentist, and Roger, the lawyer.

  Angie looked at him like she was awaiting the opportunity to drill his teeth down to the roots, and Roger was still chomping at the maternal bit holding him back from litigation.

  “Hello,” Charles said, smiling, and not being surprised when he got none in return.

  “Now, I’d like to have a moment alone with Charles if you wouldn’t mind,” Karen said.

  Her children looked at her in amazement as if she had just asked them to leave her alone with a serial killer
. The Lieutenant stood up first. She waited for the children to leave in front of her. As she closed the door behind her, she gave Charles a quick wink.

  When the room was empty, Karen once again took Charles’s hand and looked up at him.

  “I have no intention of letting my children punish you in any way for what happened. As Lieutenant Thorndike has explained to me, you had no reason to believe that your life was in quite such imminent danger. If you had been more aware of the situation, I’m sure you would never have exposed me to such risk.”

  She looked inquisitively at Charles, who nodded solemnly.

  “All that being said, however, I’m afraid we’re going to have to break up.”

  Charles looked surprised, mostly at the thought that they had ever been together, but Karen took it as a sign of shocked dismay.

  “Please don’t be upset, Charles. It isn’t that I don’t like you, but the life you live is obviously much more adventurous than mine. You’re a very brave person who clearly is not afraid of risk, while I’m inclined to want safety and security. I know we have a certain chemistry, but that isn’t enough to overcome our basic differences in our approach to life.”

  “So you’re dumping me,” Charles said, using a blunt expression so everything would be absolutely clear.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  She had tears in her eyes as Charles struggled to keep the smile from his face. She must have taken that for an effort to control deep emotions.

  “Don’t feel too badly, Charles,” she said taking his hand and giving it a hard squeeze. “We’ll still get to see each other at the soup kitchen. We can still be friends and stay in each other’s lives.”

  “Of course, of course,” Charles intoned. “Thank you for letting me down so gently.”

  He was afraid he might be going too far, but her radiant smile told him he had been right on target.

  “I wouldn’t hurt your feeling for the world,” she said. Then she gave an abrupt nod of her head. “I guess it’s time to let my children back in the room.”

  “I’ll get them,” Charles said, moving toward the door. “Get well quickly, Karen, and I’ll see you at the soup kitchen.”

  She gave him a smile and a wave. He went out into the hall. Angie and Roger were standing directly across from him, looking as if only the Lieutenant’s armed presence right next to the door kept them from attacking Charles.

  “Nice meeting you,” he said, getting no response.

  The children walked past him and back into the room. He went down the hall with the Lieutenant beside him.

  “Thanks for being there,” he said.

  “I didn’t really think a violent confrontation would break out, but it’s never good to have disorderly conduct in a hospital. But Karen seemed to handle it well.”

  “She dumped me,” Charles said, realizing he sounded sadder than he felt. He wondered if he actually was sad. It was the first time a girl had broken up with him since college, and suddenly he wasn’t quite sure how he felt.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It wouldn’t have worked out. I think I’m the kind of guy destined to only have one love in his life.”

  “Your wife must have been a very special woman.”

  He nodded, wondering if he detected any irony in her tone. “And thank you for explaining to Karen about why I didn’t think I was in real danger.”

  Thorndike shrugged. “Like I keep saying, that was as much my fault as yours. I should have been more alarmed by the rat incident. But for the time being, keep a low profile. We don’t want to encourage any more attacks on your life.”

  “Stay in touch,” Charles said as they parted in the parking lot.

  Thorndike smiled. “Don’t worry, I will.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The next morning, Charles went out for his run. Again he took the precaution of leaving from the back door and zigzagging his way up the street. Two days had passed since the last attempt on his life, and he found himself feeling more optimistic about his chances of survival. He thought about how irrational optimism could sometimes be, and considered how evolution had probably selected for optimism as a positive trait. Those cavemen who despaired at the prospect of struggling for another day probably didn’t have many offspring, while those who figured the saber toothed tiger would never catch them and looked forward to dining on a Mammoth burger the next evening were more inclined to procreate.

  Considering these thoughts, Charles was past the half-mile mark almost before he realized it. He went a few blocks more just to show he could, then turned around and made his way back home, running at a steady pace the whole way. At this rate, he thought in a moment of self-congratulation, he’d be able to keep up with Greg once they started running together again after all this was over. Some of his optimism left him when he considered that if the murderer or murderers were never caught, he’d be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life. Although he had confidence in the Lieutenant, he hoped that he heard from Adam soon and that the information was helpful.

  After pacing in his backyard for a few minutes to cool down, he went in the back door.

  He went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. As he sat at the table, he began to consider whether there was anything more he could do to help solve the crimes. He reviewed all the events that had happened so far, and the one issue that stuck out in his mind was Deborah Gould’s apparent hesitance to be completely open with him. Could her relationship with Underwood ten years ago have gone beyond that of a teacher and student? She hadn’t struck Charles as being a killer, but there had been a suspicious reticence about her. The Lieutenant had sensed the same thing. Charles decided that another conversation with her might be in order. It would be a breach of his promise to both the Lieutenant and Amy not to stay involved in the case, but he didn’t think he’d be in much danger on campus. The attempts on his life had all been carefully staged, and it would be impossible for the killer to predict where he would be going once he went to the College. And even if there was some risk, he strongly felt this case had to be solved quickly.

  After having his breakfast, he dressed, putting on a sport shirt and a pair of chinos. No more tie and sport coat now that he was retired, he thought. It was time for a laid back, more casual life style. He took his new and circuitous route to school that allowed him to check whether he was being followed, and he even pulled into another parking lot a distance away from the English building. That should avoid his ending up with another rodent companion.

  As had become customary since the murders, there were more security people walking around the campus and standing by some of the larger buildings. There was no one stationed in front of the science building, but a newly posted sign said that anyone wishing entry had to swipe his or her ID card. Charles recalled that the previous rule had only required that this be done after six o’clock and on weekends. Obviously security had been tightened. Fortunately Charles had his ID card with him. Like many educational institutions that are strict in theory but loose in practice, there had been no requirement that he turn in his card, probably because he occupied a twilight area of still being a peripheral part of the institution.

  He swiped his card and heard the dull metallic click of the door lock being released. He slowly pushed it open and went inside the shadowy hall. He went to the bottom of the stairwell and began climbing his long way up to the fourth floor. Like most buildings built in the nineteenth century, it had not been designed with an elevator. Charles thought it likely that one had been added for disabled students, but it would probably be in a spot hard to find. With his new and improved conditioning, he was certain that four floors would not be a challenge. He discovered that although his breathing was fine, by the time he reached the fourth floor the muscles in his legs had tightened into hard rocks. He decided that he would have to add more hills to his running routine.

  He walked down the dark hall to the biology lab. He pushed open the door and
saw that it was dark inside. Clearly, Deborah wasn’t working there today. He had decided to go one floor down and check at her office when on a whim he switched on the lights in the lab. He didn’t know exactly why. Certainly Gould wouldn’t be working in the dark. Everything looked as was to be expected. There were rows of benches with high stools lined up in front of them. He stepped into the room and slowly made his way down to where Deborah had been working the last time he was there. He remembered how startled she had been at his arrival, and how the slide had flipped out of her hand and had barely been caught by him.

  He would never have noticed if he hadn’t taken one final step forward, but something white on the floor caught his eye. He moved forward quickly then suddenly stopped, listening to his accelerating heartbeat. Deborah was lying on the floor, her white lab coat dark crimson. Underneath her lay a large viscous pool of blood. There was nothing lifelike about her face, which looked stiff and frozen, her eyes blank and filmy.

  Charles turned and walked away from the scene. When he reached the door to the lab he stopped, took out his cell phone, and dialled 9-1-1. He was pleased to see that his hand barely shook as he gave the responder his information.

  *****

  The Lieutenant sat across from him in the police interview room that was beginning to feel like his home away from home. A tepid cup of coffee sat in front of him that Thorndike had already apologized about more than once. He could tell by her expression that she was extremely unhappy. He hoped it was because of another person being killed and not with him. When she began to speak, he realized it was both.

  “What are we going to do with you, Charles? You keep finding dead bodies wherever you go.”

  He shrugged and gave a small smile.

  “It’s not like I go looking for them.”

  “Not exactly. But if you had stayed out of this investigation, as you promised me the last time we talked, at least you wouldn’t have been the one to find this body.”

  Somebody had to find it, better sooner than later, he thought, but decided the comment should be kept to himself.