Phi Beta Murder

by C. S. Challinor

  Rex watched as Palmer’s mouth worked with emotion but no words came out. “I found this in Dixon’s room.” He showed the boy the button.

  Before Palmer could say anything, Rex opened the closet and began scanning the messy shelves. He almost missed the gray hoodie hanging between the other clothes. He pulled it off the hanger. A frayed thread hung from the neck where a button was missing. “Look, what do you know … It’s a perfect match.”

  “Someone must’ve planted it.”

  “The same someone who left the suicide instructions on the desk? That doesn’t make sense. The murderer wanted to make Dixon’s death look like suicide. He wouldn’t have left a button belonging to someone else there. Why did you do it?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Rex lifted a tangle of damp towels off a stray chair and dragged it close to the bed. That way the boy couldn’t bolt from the room. He spread the hoodie on his lap. “A garment like this would come in handy for sliding through vents and carrying a rope and a set of suicide instructions in these wide pockets …”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “Not really. You and R.J. were study-buddies. Isn’t that the term you employ in the States? You were both majoring in chemistry. You must have been in his room many times.”

  “Lots of people hung out in his room. Where did you find the button?”

  “By Dixon’s chair, after he was found swinging from the rope. How did your button get there? You weren’t a friend of Dixon’s and you weren’t around when I broke down his door. You didn’t attend his memorial service either. You are a very elusive character, Andy. After I met you, you vanished from my radar. Then last night you throw fire bombs to get back at the university for expelling R.J. and you vandalize Cormack’s car to punish Bethany Johnson some more for not sticking up for your friend. Is the spray can still in your car or did you dispose of it?”

  “I didn’t do any of those things.”

  “You did it all for R.J.,” Rex ploughed on inexorably. If he could get a confession out of Palmer, he could write up his report and email it to Mr. Clark. Then he could turn his attention to the more pleasant prospect of his trip to the Keys. “You saw a way to repay R.J. for his kindness to you. You didn’t mean to kill Dixon, but things got out of hand.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You wanted R.J. back on campus. He stuck up for you against the bullies at Dunbar High in Fort Myers.”

  “How do you know about Dunbar?”

  “I spoke to R.J.’s dad. He said R.J. was still in touch with an old friend from high school. Later on, I remembered the Miami Dolphins shirt from the morning I met you, so I guessed you were from Florida.”

  “Dunbar is a rough school. Lots of black kids, just like here.”

  “You worked with R.J. in his dad’s pool business.”

  “Yeah. Why d’you wanna know?”

  “Chlorine tablets cause explosions if mixed with the right stuff. You’d know that from treating swimming pools. You manufactured those Molotov cocktails. A piece of cake for a chemistry major. You sparked the riot.”

  “Lots of students saw the injustice of R.J.’s expulsion and joined in on StudentSpace.com.”

  “Doesn’t do to get on the wrong side of you, does it, Andy? Sounds to me like you can take care of yourself without R.J. Downloading the instructions was a clever move. It’s difficult composing a convincing suicide note. Harder than writing a ditty.”

  Andy hung his head.

  “Turn yourself in, lad. It’ll go easier for you and give Dixon’s parents some closure. They’re eating themselves up wondering why their son killed himself.”

  “He wasn’t supposed to wind up dead. I thought if he signed a confession saying he had falsely accused R.J. of selling blow, R.J. had a chance of getting back into Hilliard. But Dix wouldn’t sign it, even when I threatened to punch his lights out. He didn’t want to face disciplinary action.”

  Rex almost laughed at the idea of this skinny geek punching the lights out of anyone. “What did you threaten him with to get him up on that chair?”

  “Nothing. He was acting all weird. Said he had a stomach bug or the flu, or something. Anyway, he was kinda dizzy and disoriented.”

  “He had a lot of Xanax in his system. That must have made it easier to force him onto the chair and put a noose around his neck.”

  “It wasn’t that easy. I had to turn the music way up on his boom box and gag him. I told him I was going to leave him standing on the chair with the rope around his neck and his hands tied until he agreed to sign the confession.”

  “What did you use to bind his wrists?”

  “A silk tie.”

  That was why no marks had been found on Dixon’s wrists. “Where is the tie now?”

  “I burnt it. I put the instructions on how to commit suicide on his desk to show I was serious. I said I’d pull the chair out from under him. A confession was the only way to clear R.J., but Dix struggled and accidentally kicked over the chair himself. I heard Kris at the door and panicked.”

  “Then you made your way back up through the ceiling to R.J.’s old room while my son was out in the corridor.”

  “Justin said Campbell would be gone all weekend. He asked me to fill in for him on the soccer team. I borrowed the spare key Campbell gave him.” As Palmer’s head dropped in his hands, his glasses fell to the floor. He looked up blindly. “It’s not what you think. I just wanted to get Dix to sign a confession so R.J. could get back on campus.”

  “The bullied doing the bullying.”

  “Just because Dix was an RA, he thought that made him something special. I don’t know what Kris saw in him. He wasn’t even faithful to her. She said she had caught something nasty off him.” The boy retrieved his glasses from the floor and hooked them back on behind his large ears. “What’ll I get? Could I just get sentenced to rehab?”

  “I don’t know what the sentencing guidelines are here.”

  Back home, the youths he prosecuted often came from broken homes and had little education. Drug addiction was rarely a get-out-of-jail free card for them. “If you explain everything to the police the way you did to me, you could receive a lighter sentence. I might be able to persuade Dixon’s parents to be merciful.”

  Palmer wrung his hands. “I went over and over the plan in my head, but I never meant to kill him when it came down to it. It was an accident.”

  “How about we go talk to the police?” Rex handed him his hoodie. “Take this,” he said. “It can get cold in jail.”

  After entrusting Palmer into the care of Detective Beecham at the police station with a summary of what he had found out pertaining to Dixon Clark’s death and the real identity of the student on the drug bust video, Rex decided a visit to the dean of students was in order. A uniformed cop was standing guard at the entrance to the college administrative building and asked him his business.

  “I’m a parent, here to see Dr. Binkley.”

  At the mention of his name, the dean, standing in the lobby, turned around and held out his hand. “Mr. Graves. How are you? We had some trouble on campus last night as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “I’ve come to see you on a related matter.”

  Rex pulled the voice recorder from his shirt pocket and replayed the conversation with Wayne Price at The Shamrock. “The police informant on the tape positively identified Ty Clapham of his own volition,” he informed the dean. “R.J. Wylie never confessed to the detective who arrested him. He couldn’t produce the hoodie because it was in Professor Johnson’s possession and she would not come forward in his defense.”

  “Bethany Johnson, our assistant marine science professor? Do I infer that she and R.J. Wylie …”

  “Infer what you like, Dean. She provided me with the hoodie in question when I confronted her about it.”

  “I see.”

  “The case against Wylie was a flimsy fabrication and it was thrown out with good reason. Fortunately the jury s
howed better judgment than the faculty at Hilliard.”

  The dean of students cleared his throat. “I’ll, ah, review Wylie’s case. Well, thank you for all you have done.” He vigorously shook Rex’s hand. “Have a safe trip home.”

  “Now that you have clear proof it wasn’t R.J. on the video, wouldn’t the right thing to do be to reinstate him?”

  Rex didn’t wait for an answer before walking off through the main doors in the direction of Keynes Hall. He had one final task to accomplish, the hardest so far.

  Later that morning, after he had heard back from the dean and while his son was at a lecture, Rex sat down at Campbell’s laptop to write to the Clarks, assisted by the American spell-checker.

  Dear Mr. & Mrs. Clark:

  Much as this news will undoubtedly come as a fresh shock, I must inform you that it appears Dixon did not in fact commit suicide, but was murdered by a student named Andy Palmer. The motive he gave me was that he had known R.J. Wylie—the boy who was erroneously implicated by Dixon in a drug deal—since high school, and was seeking to right the wrong of his friend’s expulsion from Hilliard University.

  Andy Palmer studied with R.J. Wylie, also a chemistry major, in his room and discovered access to Dixon’s room below through the air ducts. Being under the effects of a sedative, Dixon was less able to put up a defense than he might otherwise have been. Andy forced him onto a chair (possibly with the aid of a weapon) and put a rope around his neck. He showed him the suicide instructions he had brought with him. The plan was to coerce Dixon into signing a written confession to falsely accusing R.J. Wylie. According to Andy, Dixon knocked over the chair while struggling to get free. Andy panicked and fled the scene.

  The dealer in the phone video was Dixon’s ex-roommate, Tyler Clapham (“Klepto”), who managed to convince Dixon to incriminate R.J. Wylie instead. Klepto, while not a direct culprit in Dixon’s death, acted as a catalyst for the tragic sequence of events. He is the webmaster of StudentSpace.com, which the university is now attempting to shut down. Klepto has been suspended pending a full inquiry into his role in the drug deal that resulted in R.J.’s expulsion and ultimately in your son’s death.

  In conclusion, R.J. Wylie, an able student, was falsely accused of drug-dealing and has, as far as I can ascertain, never sold drugs. His high school friend Andy Palmer wished to redress this wrong, and events spiraled out of control. Dixon, it seems, also refused to sell Andy the Xanax at the price he was selling it to his friends, and this angered Andy, who is responsible for posting the Nantucket poem.

  I should add that R.J. is not a completely innocent party in all this, since he was using cocaine, contrary to dorm rules, at the time of his arrest. He is now clean and mentoring kids in an anti-drugs program.

  These are the facts as I understand them. I will follow up by phone at the weekend.

  Yours sincerely,

  Rex Graves, Q.C.

  He hoped a couple of days would be enough time for Dixon’s parents to absorb the impact of the email before he spoke with them. As it turned out, Keith Clark called him within the hour.

  “It’s been an emotional roller-coaster,” he admitted. “Katherine and I have been talking about the situation since we got your email. First of all, we are so very grateful for your involvement; otherwise we would never have gotten at the truth of what happened.”

  He took a deep breath. “We spoke to the dean by phone a short while ago, and he confirmed that the website has been shut down. He is amenable to re-enrolling R.J. Wylie, subject to regular drug screening, and provided that the school’s action is not construed as an admission of culpability. R.J. may have to make up some classes in the summer. We agreed not to pursue a lawsuit against Hilliard, and we’ve decided to help R.J. with his tuition fees.”

  “That is truly generous of you and Katherine,” Rex said in admiration. “Does R.J. know about this yet?”

  “I spoke to his father. The poor man broke down. The stress he’s been under must have been intolerable. He took out a second mortgage on his house to pay for his son’s defense. I understand that R.J. is currently working construction to pay off the loan.”

  “Aye, he’s working at the top of a skyscraper.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want my son doing that. In any case, Katherine and I had been thinking about setting up a scholarship in Dixon’s name. Under the circumstances, we think R.J. should benefit instead.”

  Rex gave a heartfelt sigh. “I believe it’s a good decision. I’ve had the opportunity to talk to R.J. at length. He’s a bright lad and should have had a bright future. Thanks to you, he’ll still have that chance. I don’t think he’ll make the same mistake twice.”

  “We don’t always get second chances for ourselves or our kids. The next best thing is to be able to provide them.”

  “I’ll call you in a few days and let you know how we’re getting on at the cottage.”

  “Please do. Have a great time down there.”

  As Rex closed his phone, a mingling of sadness and optimism overcame him. Mr. Clark’s words moved him to tears. Just when you thought all hope was lost for humanity, along came someone who restored your faith in mankind. What a great moment it would be for R.J. when he got the news.

  “So, how does it feel to solve a case?” Kris asked Rex. She was seated beside Mike at the trestle table in the student quad.

  A group of Campbell’s friends had barbecued hamburgers and hot dogs for a late lunch.

  “Och, it’s the best feeling in the world.”

  “I heard Four-Eyes is copping to Man Two,” Justin said, squirting mustard onto a bread roll.

  “The police searched his car and found a switchblade,” Dominic countered. “Won’t that make a difference?”

  “Not if the plea already went down,” Justin said.

  “Yeah, well he probably threatened Dixon with the knife. How else would he have gotten him up on a chair? Dumb that he left the weapon in his car.”

  “That’s where he keeps it, I guess. Jax is a dangerous place, bro’. I got protection myself.”

  Rex listened to the debate between Justin and Dominic, glad that he was not the one to have to mete out punishment.

  “I just can’t see it. I mean, Four-Eyes?” Mike shook his head in disbelief. “Involuntary manslaughter. Whoa. And then he went ballistic, throwing incendiary bombs all over campus. I wonder if Klepto will be expelled.”

  “The video is fuzzy,” Rex told Mike. “Unless the police can enhance it in some way, it will be hard to prove who was selling to the informant, in spite of his new testimony.”

  “Klepto will wriggle out of any charges,” Justin put in. “He’s manipulative and controlling. He managed to convince Dix that the dealer in the video was R.J.”

  “Klepto was jealous of R.J.” Rex added, “I’m not sure R.J. knows the good news yet.”

  “You deserve to deliver it to him. You made it all happen. You are way cool, Mr. Graves.”

  “Why, thank you, Kris. I think I will, unless someone has beaten me to the punch. And thanks for the sendoff party.” Rex dabbed at his mouth with a paper napkin. “I’ll see you back here,” he told Campbell. “Make sure you’re all packed and ready to go. We’ll be leaving the Siesta Inn first thing in the morning.”

  He phoned Tony at the construction site and told him he was headed over there right now.

  “R.J. knocks off at three-thirty,” the project manager informed him. “His dad called me with the news. Looks like I’m going to lose a good worker.”

  “Does R.J. know yet?”

  “Nah. I thought I’d wait until the end of his shift. Don’t want him falling off the building in his excitement. It’s a long way down, as you know.” Tony guffawed.

  “Aye, make sure he stays safe until I get there. I’d like to tell him myself.”

  “Be my guest. He’d never believe it from me anyhow. He’d think I was pulling his leg.”

  With a warm feeling of anticipation, Rex closed his phone and climbed in
to the SUV. He made good time in spite of Friday afternoon traffic. As he arrived, the crew was descending the gleaming bronze tower in the outdoor elevators. R.J. was among the first to reach the gate, paycheck in hand.

  “Hey,” he said when he saw Rex. “What brings you back here?”

  “Ms. Johnson returned this.”

  R.J. stared at the hoodie for a long time as he turned it around in hands that were dry and cracked with gray concrete dust. “What did she say?”

  “That she was sorry.”

  R.J. nodded. His throat made a low choking sound.

  “For what it’s worth, I know for a fact you had nothing to do with Dixon’s death.”

  “Do you know who did it?”

  “Aye. I guess no one has told you yet. You won’t be happy.”

  “My dad?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “He came to visit last weekend. He was real mad at Dix Clark.”

  “No, it wasna your dad. Have you spoken with him yet?”

  “Why?”

  “First I better tell you about your friend Andy Palmer.”

  R.J. stared at him with a mixture of curiosity and dread. “What about him?”

  “It was Andy who murdered Dixon Clark.”

  “Four-Eyes? No way, man!”

  “Are you still in touch with him?”

  “He calls from time to time to let me know what’s new on campus.”

  “Did he tell you about Mr. Cormack and Bethany?”

  “Yeah, and about Clark’s suicide, right after it happened. He sounded a bit hyper. Now I know why.”

  “The Clarks set up a college fund in their son’s name and want to give it to you.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  Rex smiled all the way to his ears and shook his head. “They realize Dixon was misguidedly instrumental in your arrest and they want to make amends, provided you continue to keep off the drugs. The dean of students is agreeable to your resuming your studies.”

  “Binkley actually said that?”

  “Yes, we had a long conversation on the phone.”

  “If I go back to Hilliard, I’ll talk to freshmen about how drugs can trash your life,” R.J. promised. “Oh, wow, I can really go back?”