by Clea Simon
One possibility came to her immediately. Her friend had a one-year post-doc position, nothing more. Trista always appeared relaxed or at least in control, but Dulcie knew how hard her friend worked. If she thought she had a shot at permanent position under a new department head, she might come on a little strong. And – what? Attack her? No, that made no—
‘Ms Schwartz?’ She looked around. Her students were looking at her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she smiled at them. ‘Julie, did you have any more to add?’
With an eloquent roll of her eyes, the sophomore let Dulcie know she had missed something important. But right at that moment, the chimes of Memorial Church sounded.
‘Well, we’ll pick this up next week,’ Dulcie said, trying not to sound too grateful. She had communications of her own to explore.
Trista wasn’t answering when Dulcie called. She didn’t respond to a text either, though that didn’t mean anything. Trista had her own teaching assignments, and Dulcie knew that she was also working hard on a paper for a spring quarterly. That was how postgrads got jobs, Dulcie reminded herself. Not by intimidating professors.
But if it wasn’t Trista whom Showalter had been talking about, and it wasn’t Dulcie, then whom? Dulcie tried to remember the other faces at the bar. Raleigh hadn’t joined them until after. Besides, Lloyd’s girlfriend still had years to go on her thesis, and that meant even less motive for an attack.
Maybe the hotel staff would know. Considering what had happened, Dulcie doubted that the visiting scholar would want to keep their appointment – even if she wasn’t avoiding Dulcie. But Dulcie should show up. And then, maybe, she could ask some questions.
She might even clear Martin Thorpe, Dulcie thought as she headed toward the Common. Rather to her surprise, Dulcie realized, she wanted her adviser proven innocent. Part of that was practical. Dulcie had already been forced to find a new adviser once. To have to go through that again would almost guarantee her thesis would be delayed another year, if not more. But also, if she were being honest with herself, it was that she felt bad for the man. He had looked so frail in his hospital johnny, and that had brought home to her how vulnerable he must feel. Maybe Raleigh was right. Maybe he did need a kitten. If only Dulcie could be sure that the little orange creature would be safe with him.
Chris might not think that she had a logical mind. Certainly, compared to his years of training with computational Xs and Os, she didn’t, but she could follow a train of thought. And one thing kept coming back to her. Professor Showalter’s words strongly suggested that she had been bothered by a woman, another student or a rival scholar. But that did not mean that whoever – or whatever – had struck down Mina Love and attempted to hurt Emily Trainor wasn’t something much more dangerous. And much more wild.
This was not a pleasant thought to have as she crossed the Common. But in the broad light of day, the open space looked empty rather than threatening, and the leafless trees barely cast any shadow on the asphalt path. In fact, Dulcie could see all the way across the public park, to where another figure was making its slower way up toward the hotel.
‘Emily?’ As she gained on the other person, Dulcie saw a cane and recognized the slow, limping gait. ‘Is that you?’
‘Ms Schwartz.’ The student turned with a smile, and Dulcie was pleased to see that the younger woman had a little more color in her cheeks. ‘What brings you here?’
‘I was heading to the Commodore.’ Dulcie pointed to the building ahead of them. ‘I was hoping to talk to someone there.’
‘That’s funny.’ Emily turned toward the building, giving Dulcie a glimpse of her bruised neck. ‘I am, too. But I don’t know if she’s still there.’
‘You’re not …’ Dulcie paused. This was a strange coincidence. ‘You’re not looking for Renée Showalter, are you?’
‘Yeah.’ The junior’s head bobbed. ‘I am. I missed her talk last night. And I – well, it may be a while before I go out at night again. But I know that Mina would want …’ She stopped and bit her lip so hard the color went out of it.
‘I know Mina was a fan,’ said Dulcie, trying to make her voice as gentle as possible. ‘I am, too.’
‘She … No.’ Emily shook her head. ‘Mina would want to confront her. All those outdated ideas …’
‘Oh. Sorry.’ Dulcie apologized, suddenly reluctant to mention her appointment with the scholar. ‘I thought Mina was into the whole new historicism thing, the connectivity. Josh said—’
‘Josh? You were talking to Josh?’ The girl’s welcoming smile turned to a glare. ‘No surprise there. He was just jealous of Professor Lukos. Not to mention …’ She shut down, shaking her head again.
‘What? Emily?’ Dulcie tried to get in front, to look into the girl’s face. But Emily kept her face averted.
‘It’s funny,’ she said, finally looking up. ‘You’d think he’d be the one to want to drop the whole “connectivity” thing, right? But now he’s pushing for it, like it gives him some hold over her.’
Dulcie didn’t know how to respond. Clearly, this went beyond literary theory.
‘Has there been any change?’ Dulcie hesitated even asking.
Emily only shook her head.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Dulcie couldn’t help it. She had to ask. ‘So, she hasn’t been able to tell anyone what happened?’
Another slow shake. ‘They keep saying she could wake up at any moment. That’s why I thought, if I could reach the professor, maybe get her notes, it would be something Mina could work on while she recovers. You know, finding the holes – discrediting Showalter, getting her out of the running.’
‘I see.’ Dulcie didn’t, not really. Clearly Emily had an exaggerated idea of what any undergraduate’s impact would be. Still, it was a kind gesture – and Dulcie didn’t have to respond in more detail. Even at Emily’s slower pace, they had arrived at the hotel.
Emily reached for the door, only to have a uniformed doorman pull it open. ‘Well, it was nice seeing you.’
Dulcie let the injured student go ahead of her and watched her walk to the bank of elevators. Well, so much for mutual areas of interest. Maybe it was just as well Mina had left the department.For now, Dulcie advanced on the front desk – and then stopped. If Emily Trainor could go directly to Renée Showalter’s room, why couldn’t Dulcie? She knew she wasn’t the annoying student about whom the scholar had been complaining. And the visiting scholar had said she had something to share only yesterday.
‘Wait!’ She turned as she saw Emily step into an elevator. ‘Hold that, please?’
Too late. The doors closed, sending Dulcie back to the front desk. Without Emily, she didn’t even know where the professor was staying.
‘I’m here to visit Professor Showalter,’ she said, trying to sound confident.
‘I’m sorry. That guest is no longer with us.’
Dulcie gasped. So much had been happening that for a moment, she had put the worst possible spin on the desk clerk’s words. ‘She … she …’
‘She checked out this morning.’ The clerk was looking at her quizzically. ‘A little less than an hour ago.’
‘Of course.’ Dulcie nearly collapsed against the counter with relief. After leaving the health services, the visiting scholar probably wanted to get home. It was possible she didn’t even remember their appointment. ‘Did she leave any messages? Any way to get in touch?’
‘No, I’m sorry.’ The clerk made a cursory pass over what must have been an electronic note pad. ‘I don’t see anything. Would you like to leave your name, in case she calls back?’
‘No, thanks.’ In case the professor had wanted to duck her, Dulcie didn’t want to sound like a stalker. Besides, Showalter was an academic. Dulcie could find her email online. Once she was back at McGill, the professor would be free to tell Dulcie whatever it was that had been on her mind at the bar last night. If she still wanted to.
Still, Dulcie thought, she may as well wait. Emily would doubtless be down soon, and ev
en though the sun was shining, Dulcie worried. Emily looked frail and was clearly still shaken up by what had happened. Dulcie would walk her back to her dorm room. Maybe, along the way, she could get her to talk a little more about her room-mate’s studies.
In the meantime, she walked over to the elevators. It couldn’t be long now.
‘Ms Schwartz.’ A gruff but familiar voice caused her to spin around. ‘Why am I not surprised to see you here?’
‘Detective Rogovoy!’ Dulcie kicked herself. Of course, the university police would be following up. ‘I’m glad to see you.’
‘Why?’ His big face wrinkled in concern. ‘Are you okay? Has anything happened?’
‘No, I’m fine.’ She was almost laughing. ‘In fact, I just came over to see if Professor Showalter was still here. I was hoping maybe she might remember something.’
That big face scrunched up some more, and Dulcie realized she was talking herself into a corner. She wasn’t supposed to have heard what the professor had told Rogovoy’s officer at the infirmary. Nor, she realized, could she say anything about waiting for Emily. The junior hadn’t reported the attack against her, and Dulcie couldn’t out her against her wishes, not so long after the fact.
‘She had some information for me. A paper or a lead or something.’ It was true as well as expedient. ‘She and I were going to talk this morning.’ Dulcie shrugged.
Rogovoy seemed to chew her words over. ‘I’m sure she’ll be in touch, Ms Schwartz. If what you’re saying is true.’
‘Detective! Why would I lie?’ That was probably pushing it, but it worked. Rogovoy broke into a smile that transformed his whole face.
‘Because you fancy yourself an investigator.’ The grin faded as quickly as it had appeared. ‘And that gets you into trouble.’
‘Well, why are you here?’ He was going to tell her to leave any moment. She had to act fast.
‘Official business.’ He was looking at her. ‘There’s something more going on, Ms Schwartz. Out with it.’
She opened her mouth to protest – and shut it again. Rogovoy was a good cop, with good cop instincts. She had to give him something. ‘Do you think what happened last night might have had something to do with what she was going to talk about last night?’ Even as the words formed, Dulcie realized that she was wondering about this. ‘Maybe with what she was going to tell me?’
‘And it’s not something hinky with this adviser of yours?’ He was testing her, she could tell.
‘Well, it is true that we saw him near the Common last night. And he didn’t check himself into the university health services until much later. Plus, he sort of had motive – more motive than for the other two attacks, anyway. But—’
‘Dulcie Schwartz.’ Rogovoy was shaking his large head slowly. ‘You really hate that guy, don’t you?’
‘No, I don’t, actually.’
It was no use. ‘Come on, Ms Schwartz. Go back to class. Or go to the library. Just, please, stay out of trouble, and let me do my job.’
THIRTY-TWO
She would, Dulcie told herself. If only she could trust the burly detective to follow up. Not about the troublesome student – he was too good a cop to leave that be – but her idea that the attack was connected to the subject of her talk. Without the professor, or any notes, though, she was at a loss to decipher what exactly the professor had uncovered. She would, she decided, wait for Emily Trainor and ask her a few more questions. At the very least, she could walk the junior back to the Square. After her fright, she might appreciate the company.
Taking up a position on the sidewalk, away from the hotel entrance, Dulcie called Trista. No matter what Chris said, she didn’t doubt her friend. However, she did have some questions that the pierced postgrad could answer.
She was just leaving a message when Emily appeared, leaning heavily on her cane. Dulcie rushed over to help. The doorman, apparently, was busy answering Rogovoy’s questions.
‘Hey, I yelled over to you,’ Dulcie said. ‘But you were already going up.’
‘Sorry.’ Emily could have shrugged, or it could have been the cane. ‘I saw you go over to the front desk, so I figured maybe Showalter had left something for you.’ She glanced over at Dulcie to see if she had guessed correctly. ‘Besides,’ Emily continued, ‘I was really hoping to catch her. It would have been a coup for Mina. If only I could’ve gotten over here more quickly.’
That was it, her cue. ‘Emily?’ Dulcie hesitated, but this was what had been bothering her. ‘How did you know what room Professor Showalter was staying in?’
The girl looked at her with a blank stare. ‘What? I told you.’ Dulcie shook her head. ‘I spoke with her, with the professor, before her talk. I told her about Mina being in the hospital. I knew I wasn’t going to make it to her lecture, so she’d told me I could come by today.’
‘Ah.’ It was all Dulcie could muster. So much for her own special connection with the scholar. They walked on in silence, and Dulcie couldn’t help noticing that each step Emily took seemed to hurt more.
‘Have you had your leg looked at?’ She asked gently.
Emily shook her head. ‘It’s an old problem. Sometimes it acts up. Getting thrown …’ She let the sentence trail off and sighed. ‘I was really hoping to get the professor’s notes.’
‘That’s really sweet of you.’ Dulcie thought of Suze. They had both helped each other, too. ‘You must be close.’
A nod this time. ‘We’ve roomed together since freshman year. I know that most people end up hating their freshman room-mates. But with us, it was like fate or something. We do everything together. Or did …’
‘Until Josh?’ It was a guess.
‘Yeah, he’s one of those guys.’ Emily kept her eyes on the sidewalk, but Dulcie could hear the bitterness in her voice. ‘You know, the type who doesn’t like it when his girlfriend has any other friends. It’s happened before.’
Dulcie turned to stare at the other girl. If Josh had a record of harassment, she wanted to know. And Detective Rogovoy needed to know. ‘Josh has done this with other girls?’
Emily shook her head. ‘No, sorry.’ Walking seemed to be exhausting her. ‘Mina. She’s had boyfriends before who want to cut me – cut all her friends – out. She attracts that type.’
‘Some guys think that’s what intimacy is all about.’ She turned toward the junior as they walked. ‘I guess your research showed him that someone can be too close.’
Emily paused at that, and Dulcie couldn’t read the look that the junior gave her. ‘I don’t mean that the attack is your fault,’ Dulcie rushed in to explain. ‘I mean, you just did the research.’
‘Yeah,’ said Emily, hobbling along. ‘I guess.’
Could that have been why she was jumped? From the set of Emily’s mouth, Dulcie could tell that she didn’t want to talk any more, and Dulcie was a little relieved when her phone rang. Trista, calling her back, she saw, and when she turned to Emily, she saw that the junior was grateful for the break as well.
‘Take it,’ she said. ‘I’m fine. Really.’
As if to prove her point, she sped up and was almost half a block away before Dulcie could pick up the call.
‘Hey, Tris, thanks for calling me back.’ She hesitated. What she really wanted to know was why Trista had pursued Showalter so ardently, but she couldn’t figure out how to ask that without it sounding like an accusation. ‘I’m over by the Commodore,’ she volunteered, hoping it would prime the pump. ‘I came by hoping to catch Showalter, but she had already checked out.’
‘Yeah, about an hour ago.’ Trista seemed to know everything. ‘She’ll be back in a few weeks, though. I think they must consider her a serious candidate.’
‘You know this?’ Dulcie was taken aback.
‘Pretty sure.’ Her friend sounded so casual. Not at all what Dulcie would consider stalker-ish. ‘At least, I’m hoping.’
Now she was getting somewhere. ‘What’s it to you, Tris? I mean, she’s not in your field.’
‘Exactly,’ said her friend. ‘But speaking of … you might want to get down to the Mildon. I was just on Level Three and I saw your new best friend, Josh Whatsisname – the boyfriend? – he was talking with that mousy little librarian. I think they were coming close to blows.’
THIRTY-THREE
There was clearly a lot that Dulcie didn’t understand. Trista’s answer, for example. That one word – ‘Exactly’ – was ringing through her head. However, one thing she did know for sure was that Thomas Griddlehaus was an ally. Not only that, he was her friend. And if he was being threatened by a potentially dangerous student, she was going to his defense.
Turning to cut back through the Common, Dulcie weighed the option of calling the university police – or, at least, of alerting her friend Mona, who worked upstairs from Griddlehaus in the circulation department. Maybe she could gather some of her colleagues. Rush downstairs, and – what? Break up a possibly heated discussion between an undergraduate and the senior clerk of the Mildon Rare Books Collection? Maybe she could draw Griddlehaus aside and explain that Josh Blakely was being questioned in connection with the attack on his girlfriend a few nights before. Even that, however, was questionable. Josh was innocent until proven guilty. And Dulcie herself, she remembered with a sinking feeling, had found the young man likeable.
Better she should just hurry over and see if she could help sort things out.
‘Mr Griddlehaus!’ Dulcie called out as soon as the elevator door opened. The subterranean hallway was artificially and overly lit, but Dulcie thought the mousy clerk brightened at the sight of her, hurrying down the hall.
‘Ms Schwartz!’ He was definitely smiling. ‘You seem quite exuberant today.’
‘Oh, yes.’ She stopped short. The passage was deserted, the entrance to the collection its usual quiet self: no conflict – and no Josh – in sight. ‘I am, of course. But I was wondering, did you happen to see an undergraduate? A Josh Blakely?’
