The Skeleton Stuffs a Stocking

by Leigh Perry

  “You will?”

  “If you can find him in fifteen minutes, he’ll get two weeks.”

  “Who do you want us to find?” Mr. Gleason rumbled in the first words I’d heard him speak.

  “His name is Edward Humphries,” I said and went online to the Bostock site to find a photo. “He works in recruiting.”

  “Email me that link,” Mr. Gleason said.

  I did so, and after some serious tapping at their phones, they took off into the deepening dusk.

  “Is Humphries man one who…?” Charles asked.

  “I think so.” My phone rang again, and I said, “I’ll explain after I take this.”

  Charles politely stepped away to give me privacy.

  “Anything?” I asked Sid.

  “Humphries isn’t answering his office phone, and the building is locked and dark. I don’t think there’s a basement, so there’s nowhere he could have Brownie. I’m sorry, Georgia, I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Me, neither, but I’ve got reinforcements.”

  “Who?”

  “I told the worst pair of helicopter parents around that I’ll give their kid an extension if they can find Humphries for me. I bet they’re going to alert the Bostock parents’ group to spread the word.”

  “I’ll monitor the posts,” Sid said. “You stay with Charles!”

  “We’d cover more ground if—”

  “STAY WITH CHARLES!” he bellowed.

  “You’re right, you’re right. Keep in touch.” I hung up, and though I was itching to do something, anything, it would have been crazy to run around looking under bushes, especially since Sid or the Gleasons could contact me at any moment. Besides, I needed to catch Charles up. So I took a few minutes to explain what we thought Edward Humphries, a.k.a. T.J., had done. I’d been finished long enough to reconsider that bush searching option when my phone rang again. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Dr. Thackery, I don’t know if you remember—”

  “Yes, Mrs. Gleason, I know who you are. Have you found Edward Humphries?”

  “I think so. One of the other parents said her daughter saw a shuttle bus that went right past her, even though she was at a stop, and she said it went to that old church on campus, but there’s no stop there. She recognized Mr. Humphries driving because he gave her a tour of the campus just last year.”

  The museum! “Thank you so much!”

  “I’m not sure Mr. Humphries is still there, and I realize that it’s been seventeen minutes since we talked not fifteen, but—”

  “That’s close enough. Reggie’s got two more weeks.”

  She started to ask if I meant from today or from his originally scheduled due date, but I hung up on her.

  I texted Sid.

  georgia: They’re in the museum! We’re going there now. Will call you and leave connection open so you can listen in.

  sid: Go!

  After I dialed Sid’s number and made sure he’d answered, I tucked my phone into my bra. It wasn’t comfortable, but Sid would be able to hear what was going on, and I’d have my hands free. Then I said, “Charles, Humphries was spotted at the campus museum. Do you know the way?”

  “Follow me!”

  Charles had worked at Bostock longer than I had, and it showed. We soon left sidewalks behind and cut off a third of the distance I expected to have to trudge.

  The museum was dark when we arrived, and at first I thought the Gleasons had failed us, but then I saw the shuttle bus parked on the slope to one side of the building, in the shadow of some trees.

  I heard Sid’s voice from inside my bra, and jerked, having forgotten that I’d left the phone there. “He’s going to ram the building! I think Brownie is inside.”

  That’s when I realized two things. One, while the headlights were off, there was exhaust coming from the shuttle bus’s tail pipe, meaning that it was still running. Two, Sid was at the museum. Just for a second, I saw an impossibly skinny figure at the front door of the building before he slipped inside. Somebody else was moving around the shuttle.

  “We’ve got to stop that bus,” I told Charles, who hadn’t heard Sid.

  I’d never have gotten there in time, but Charles had longer legs and could move like a freight train. He was yelling, “Humphries!” as he barreled toward him.

  Humphries looked up from where he was just about to pull something I later found out was a set of chocks from in front of the rear tires. He only got one pulled out before Charles tackled him.

  With only one wheel blocked, the bus started lumbering toward the museum, lurching to one side. But it was slowed enough that it only crashed partway through the wall, striking the building’s back corner instead of hitting it broadsides.

  On the phone, Sid said, “He’s in here—he’s okay,” and I ran for the open door and into the museum. Brownie was stumbling toward the front door with a thin line of blood running down his cheek.

  “Georgia?” he said. “What’s going on?”

  That would have been the time to explain all the brilliant reasoning and ingenuity that had led to his rescue, while leaving out the Sid-related bits. What actually happened was me grabbing him, kissing him, crying, more kissing, and then more crying. He wrapped his arms around me and said, “I love you, too.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Bostock security people arrived a few minutes later, followed soon thereafter by the Pennycross police and Brownie’s parents.

  Treasure Hunt wanted to take Brownie to a hospital, and I thought that was a good idea, too, but Brownie refused to go without hearing more about what had happened.

  Dana took a look at him and said, “He can wait,” which settled it.

  Since the museum was a crime scene and the heat was out of commission, it was decided that we should all relocate to the student center. Before we left, I looked into the exhibit room, and decided Sid had hidden in the big steamer trunk in the corner. Before I finally ended the phone call, I whispered my guess and the lid of the trunk lifted just a teeny bit in acknowledgement. We’d have to work out his retrieval later.

  The students who’d been roused from their dorms by all the sirens must have been baffled by the procession. Pennycross cops led the way while Bostock security cleared the path. Brownie was leaning on me because he was still feeling a little woozy, and his parents were walking beside us protectively, with Treasure Hunt glaring at anybody who might get in our way. Both Charles and Humphries had been handcuffed, but while Charles maintained a dignified silence, Humphries was complaining to all and sundry that this was a mistake, that he’d done nothing wrong, and that he needed to call his father, his lawyer, and maybe his father’s lawyer as well. Despite it all, the provost and various other administration personnel were trying to give the impression that this was just another lovely evening at Bostock College.

  Once we got to the dining hall in the student center, Humphries pointed at Brownie and said, “That’s the man! He’s been stealing from the museum and was going to drive the shuttle bus into the building to cover his tracks. I was trying to stop him when his accomplice jumped me.”

  Treasure Hunt’s face turned an angry red, and he snapped, “Typical towner—trying to blame a carney!”

  “That man must be involved, too,” Humphries said quickly. “It’s a ring of thieves.” While Treasure Hunt sputtered, Humphries looked around as if trying to decide who else he could accuse.

  Before any of the rest of us could jump in to say what was really going on, Charles drew himself up and in a clear, cutting voice said, “Annabelle Mitchell.”

  Humphries froze for a second, then sagged so much that his police escort had to hold him up as they pulled him over to a corner of the room and sat him down.

  Charles was taken to a different corner, while Brownie, his parents, and I were herded to a third. That’s when we started the ludicrous amount of explaining to satisfy the police and Bostock personnel,
or so it seemed to me at the time, but I later decided that I really wasn’t at my best. It didn’t help when Louis Raymond arrived with news to share.

  Louis had found where Brownie had been left and pointed out that had the shuttle bus gone at full speed in the direction in which it was originally aimed, it would have almost certainly killed him. Of course I’d known what Humphries had intended, but for some reason, it didn’t hit home until that moment. I don’t know what my face looked like, but I know that somebody quickly gave me a metallic blanket, a cookie, and a bottle of water. I think that means I was very close to going into shock.

  The only thing that helped was when Brownie said, “But that’s not where I was. When I came to, I was right by the door.”

  In other words, Sid had carried him to safety.

  While the Bostock people and most of the police were focused on the attempted theft and attack on Brownie, Louis kept looking at me speculatively and finally asked if I would like to give him a statement. I swallowed the rest of my water, then followed Louis to another room to explain as much of the connection between Humphries and Annabelle’s body as I could without getting anybody else in trouble. He kept asking for more details, like why Charles was involved, and I finally had to say, “That should be plenty enough to put Humphries away and lay Annabelle Mitchell to rest, so that’s all you’re going to get out of me.”

  He shook his head ruefully. “You know, when I first met you, I thought you were the complete opposite of Deborah, but at times like this, I can definitely see the family resemblance.” I’m not sure if it was a compliment or not.

  Speaking of my sister, she and my mother showed up at some point and eventually convinced the people in charge that I needed to go home. Deborah insisted that she drive my vehicle back to the house because, as she put it, I looked like death warmed over. I agreed only on the condition that we not leave until we’d rescued Sid, but when we got to my minivan, he was already hiding under his blanket. I don’t know how he managed to get out of the wrecked building and sneak across campus without being seen, but he did. Then again, what cop or security guard would have admitted seeing him?

  It was snowing heavily by the time we got back to the house. Treasure Hunt had finally gotten his way, and he and Dana were taking Brownie to the hospital to be checked out, and since Charles had split his knuckles on Humphries’s face, they took him with them, too. That meant it was only family at the house, so Sid could join in on the orgy of hugging.

  When we went into the kitchen, I saw why Phil had stayed home. With Madison’s help, he’d fixed enough sandwiches for a small army and had made hot chocolate from real chocolate, not a powder. I hadn’t realized I was hungry until I saw the food, but once I did, I decided to let Sid tell most of the story while I ate.

  “I think I’ve followed most of this,” Phil said when Sid finished, “but I’m confused as to how Brownie got captured.”

  “He was really embarrassed about that,” I said. “This afternoon he had a brainstorm about the guest register at the museum. Since the thief had to have visited more than once, presumably he’d have signed in repeatedly. Which wasn’t a bad thought.”

  Deborah snorted. “Yeah, because thieves always sign in before burgling.”

  “Brownie’s new at this,” Sid said magnanimously. “And he wasn’t totally wrong because Humphries did sign in multiple times when he first came to work at Bostock, but that was before he managed to get his own key.”

  “Why bother?” Madison said. “Anybody could pick that lock.”

  “What kind was it?” Deborah asked, and they diverted into technicalities for a minute until Mom spoke up.

  “How did Humphries know Brownie was involved?” she asked.

  “He’d hidden minicams inside the museum, so he knew everybody who’d gone in,” I said.

  “Including when you, Sid, and I were there?” Madison asked.

  I nodded. “It’s a good thing Sid stayed in the bag that day. The cameras didn’t record sound. In fact, it was the cameras that caused the near-riot on campus.”

  “I don’t understand,” Mom said.

  “From the way Brownie was examining the collection and taking pictures of the artifacts, it was pretty obvious that he’d figured out what was going on. If Humphries had just stopped stealing, he might have gotten away with everything, but he wanted one last, big score. So he started spreading rumors that the union rally was going to turn into a riot to distract everybody. Then, he loaded some of the best items still in the museum into his car. He figured that if he ran the shuttle into the museum, it would destroy a lot of evidence, and the police would chalk it up to riot-related violence.”

  “That’s actually rather clever,” Phil said. “Horrifying, but clever.”

  “Humphries went to the museum and told the student at the door she should head back to the dorm before the riot started. He was still picking out artifacts when Brownie showed up. I think he pulled the old hide-behind-the-door trick, and when Brownie came into the exhibit room, he hit him.”

  “I think it was with a cobbler’s tool,” Sid said.

  “Ouch. I hope he’s okay,” I reached for my phone, but Deborah took it away from me.

  She said, “The Fentons said they’d call when they know something. Stop worrying, and tell the rest of the story.”

  “That’s most of it already. Humphries tied up Brownie and went on loading the stuff he wanted to steal into his car. Then he moved his car, broke into the shuttle garage, and hot-wired one of the buses, which he’d learned how to do when he was a driver. Luckily, he was dumb enough to let himself be seen, and that’s how word got back to us. He positioned Brownie to stage the scene of him being a looter or something, and was just about to…” I decided to stop there.

  Madison put her arm around me, and Mom patted my hand comfortingly.

  “But why?” Phil asked.

  “It had to have been the money,” Deborah said. “The little creep must have realized he could make some easy cash, and when it looked like he was going to get caught, killed that woman to cover it up.”

  Later on we found out it was more complicated than that. Humphries’s first student business had failed miserably, and he’d had to borrow money from his wealthy father, Edward Senior, to buy in to the shuttle bus company. The buses had been profitable enough that he could pay his father back, but he couldn’t do that and spend money the way he wanted to. That’s when the thefts began, first in the dorm rooms and then in the museum. After Humphries got caught, Edward Senior bailed him out and moved him to another college. And then after graduation, he even helped Humphries find two high-paying jobs, both of which he was fired from. The last thing Edward Senior had been willing to do was use his influence and a large donation to get Humphries hired at Bostock. It turned out that much of the state-of-the-art equipment mentioned on the Bostock Difference tour had been paid for with that donation. I’d been appalled that a former thief could have been hired, even with a donation to sweeten the pot, but the current provost had never been told about the dorm thefts and nothing had been written down. Once he was back at Bostock, Humphries had promptly returned to stealing from the museum.

  The simple answer was what Deborah said. It was all about money.

  “And that’s why he killed that poor woman?” Mom asked softly.

  “Apparently Humphries noticed Annabelle was visiting the museum a lot because she did sign in, and since he’d seen her at the Nichols house, he decided he needed to get rid of her. He stole stuff from the dorm where she worked and planted pieces in her locker. That way, he figured nobody would believe anything she said about the museum. He’d gone by her house to see if she’d been arrested yet, and when he saw her walking down the street, he got the idea to run her down. He thought he was safe, even when he missed her, because she was sure to be arrested the next day. He didn’t expect her to run and hide.”

  “How did he find her?” Madison asked.

/>   “He saw her at the carnival. In addition to the on-campus route, the shuttles provide transport to local events like the Christmas Festival, and Humphries was in the parking lot when Annabelle left Fenton’s. He was able to follow her back to the house without her spotting him, but had a schedule to keep so he couldn’t go after her then. Instead he came back to the house the next day and strangled her. Having killed once, he was perfectly willing to go after Brownie, too.” I teared up again.

  Phil said, “But Sid and you saved him. I’m very proud of you both.”

  “Charles helped a lot,” Sid pointed out.

  “I’ll tell him that I’m also proud of him the first chance I get. We should have him over for dinner before the holidays are over.”

  “Why don’t you invite him for Christmas dinner?” Sid said.

  I stared at him. “Sid, if Charles is here–”

  “I know, I’ll have to hide, but you know, I get you guys all the time. Charles is alone, and nobody should be alone on Christmas.”

  Everybody teared up a little at that, even Deborah, though she denied it later.

  My phone rang, and when she saw it was Brownie, Deborah let me answer it to find out that he was indeed fine, with no concussion, only a headache and a few stitches in his scalp. I stepped into the hall for the next part of the conversation, ignoring an entire table full of Thackerys making smooching sounds.

  After a few minutes, Phil called out, “Why don’t you invite Brownie and his parents for Christmas dinner, too, Georgia?”

  I did, Brownie accepted, and we made a few smooching sounds of our own.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  The next few days were a whirlwind. Of course, it’s always hectic that close to Christmas, what with last-minute shopping, including a gift for Brownie. I found a newly published coffee table book about sideshow gaffs that Dana assured me he hadn’t seen yet.

  I also had to work in sessions with the police and various officials at Bostock. It turned out that Professor Sieck had found some of the places where Humphries had been selling pieces of the McClelland collection, so there was a good chance Bostock would get some of them back.