Failure is Fatal Read online

  “So what does your friend, Detective Pasquis think about Lionel? He must feel as you do, especially after your encounter with him yesterday.”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat on the couch. “Well, I kind of forgot to tell Der about it.”

  “What do you mean, you ‘forgot’? Oh, I get it. You went into town when you should have been here, taking weight off that ankle. Honestly, you’re absolutely incorrigible.”

  I had the good sense to be embarrassed at Emily’s comments. “I guess I am a little bit pig-headed.”

  Emily made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh. I smiled.

  “Well, I’ve got to go.” She checked her watch. “It’s a long drive back to the river and I’ve got an early class tomorrow.” She gave me a hug, patted Sam on the head, and grabbed her coat off the hook in the kitchen. “You really should tell Der, you know.” She gave me another hug and stepped out the door.

  Emily was right, of course. I really should call Der. I stepped across the floor to the phone, noting again that a day off the leg really made a difference. The swelling was down and there was less pain. Maybe all my plans for tomorrow should be delayed until Tuesday. I gave that only a moment’s thought, then rejected it. I was far too keyed up over my findings about Marie’s life at Barnett and Lionel Chaffee’s role in it. I also wondered how much Melvin knew about his brother’s troubles.

  Chapter 20

  I dialed Der’s number. There was no answer. Good! I’d just leave a quick message and get off the line.

  “Hi! It’s Laura. Thought you might want to know about my meeting with Lionel yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?” Der’s voice came on the line.

  “Don’t get sarcastic and don’t ask too many questions or I won’t tell you all the goodies I found out about Lionel Chaffee and Marie Becca.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Der? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m doing what you wanted. I’m listening.”

  I repeated the story about my unpleasant encounter with Lionel and relayed to him Emily’s information about Lionel’s departure from Barnett College.

  “Very interesting,” Der said.

  “That’s all you have to say about it, ‘very interesting’?”

  “No, there’s more to go along with that, but why tell you when you don’t share with me?”

  “I’m sharing now. What are you going to do about Lionel?”

  “I’m going to check his alibi for the night Marie was killed. How’s that?”

  “Yippee. Now you’re talking. Get back to me. I’ll be here, working or sleeping. Leave a message.”

  I rang off, delighted that things were moving on the case and that Der seemed to be thinking the same way I was. I checked the wall clock. It was after seven. Time for a bite to eat, some mindless television and a final goodnight call to Guy.

  When the phone rang, I answered it with a giant bite of cherry pie in my mouth.

  “Mmmmmph?”

  “Hi. It’s Guy. Laura is that you. You sound funny. Anything wrong?”

  “No, er, yes. There’s no ice cream left for this slice of pie. Der and I ate the last of it yesterday. Did he tell you he cooked for me and that he’s willing to do Thanksgiving here?”

  “Geez, Laura. Der and I don’t stay in touch every day, you know. He just calls me when he knows you haven’t and should have, that’s all.”

  “Right. I’m surprised the two of you haven’t exchanged friendship rings.”

  Guy chose to ignore that remark. “How’s the ankle?” he asked.

  “Great. Taking the weight off it really helps, as does the ice. Maybe the teenager who’s posing as my doctor knows something about medicine.” I wiped some cherry juice off my chin and pulled up a kitchen chair. “You know, I really miss you.”

  “Really? Well, we can remedy that when I come down. I’m free—but you’ve got to make some time in your schedule for us, you know. No Der for donuts in the morning, much as I like the guy, and no sleuthing and snooping during the day, evening and night. Lock Sam out of the bedroom and we’re set. So how about it? Do we have a date?”

  I couldn’t say no.

  *

  Early the next morning, a few snowflakes were descending as I pulled into the parking lot near the Student Center. My ankle was so much better that I covered the ground between my car and the building without much effort. I was smiling when I spotted Kay Williams at a corner table and grabbed a cup of coffee.

  Kay explained that she only had a half-hour for lunch, so I immediately launched into my inquiries about Marie.

  “I really can’t tell you very much. She left us after only a few days, saying her work assignment didn’t fit her schedule well. That puzzled me because I try to coordinate a student’s classes with work-study assignments. I thought I had done a good job with Marie’s, but she told me she had changed her class schedule.”

  “Who was she assigned to for her work?”

  “Dr. Chaffee and his graduate students.”

  “Would that include Chancey Wainwright?”

  “He was one of them, yes, although there were several others.”

  On my way out of the building I picked up the latest edition of the college’s newspaper. I hadn’t read the Tattler for several weeks and decided to take it with me to my office.

  With my leg propped up on the desk, a cup of steaming coffee in my hand, and the newspaper spread out in my lap, I passed some time finding out what the student editorial board and reporters thought was going on about campus. Not much, unless one found the listing of campus organizations’ advisors racy reading. And I did. I dialed Der’s office.

  “Der,” I said into the receiver, “have you had a chance to interview everyone in the English Department?” He replied affirmatively. “And?”

  “And nothing.”

  “I think we need to push Chaffee a little harder. Can you drop by for a few minutes?”

  “Drop by where? The house? That’s kind of out of my way. I’m working on something in town.”

  When I explained I was on campus, Der began his usual lecture about my foot. I quietly and gently placed the receiver back in the cradle and waited.

  “You’re late,” I said when Der burst into the office.

  “Couldn’t find an open parking place anywhere near this building.” He threw his large body into a chair. “What’s up?”

  “I think it would be nice if you and I visited the English Department again, paid a little visit to Dr. Chaffee.”

  “Why?”

  “Just follow my lead, okay?”

  “Laura, we’re just all over the place with this murder. The best lead we have is the guy who split the scene. Ryan Cleates looks mighty guilty to me. Even his parents don’t know where he is. I’ve got an APB out on him in the state, but so far no leads. But you still want to play favorites with faculty you find annoying.”

  “Humor me.”

  “I am. I’m checking Lionel Chaffee’s whereabouts the night of Marie’s murder. Now you think I should turn my attention to Melvin? Make up your mind. Ah, well. What do I have to lose? You seem to be able to get more out of these folks on campus than I can. I don’t understand it. I’ve got personality and charm and you’ve got what?”

  “I hate to do this, but I’m not trekking all the way across campus to find Chaffee not in his office, so I’m calling first. That’s how you come in handy. He’d flee his office in a second if he thought I was stopping by again. But we’ll use you for legal clout.”

  I dialed Chaffee’s number and set up a meeting at Chaffee’s office with Der and me. “Let’s go. I have the feeling that Chaffee was so unhappy at the prospect of seeing us that he might leave despite you being with the police.”

  “I think we should drive to the other side of campus,” Der said.

  “We’ll never find a place to park there. We’ll just hoof it. I’ve got my crutches, and I’ll hang on to you if I need to.”

  As it turn
ed out, the snow-covered walkways made navigation on my crutches impossible, so we took Der’s car. Der dropped me off and began cruising the area for someone abandoning a parking spot.

  “Promise me you won’t aggravate Chaffee till I get there.”

  I smiled my sweetest smile at him and hobbled to the building.

  “Dr. Murphy.” Lionel Chaffee stood outside his brother’s office with his usual unctuous smile. Behind him a tall blond woman leaned against the wall, shifting an unlit cigarette around between her fingers.

  “Lionel.” I nodded briefly in his direction and then walked up to the young woman and introduced myself.

  “A friend of mine, Bridget Collins,” Lionel said.

  “Actually we’re a bit more than friends,” she said.

  “Really? What’s a bit more?”

  “We’re engaged.”

  “Now, Bridget, dear, I thought that was going to be our little secret until the holidays.” Lionel nervously jingled the keys in his coat pocket.

  “So, to what do we owe your appearance once more on this campus? Some kind of intercampus exchange program that I haven’t heard about? I thought you said that you were teaching at Shelby, but you’re here so often I’m wondering when you have classes.” I said.

  Before Lionel could answer, Bridget stepped forward. “Oh, he only has two classes. I’m in both of them. He has released time for research. Right, Li?”

  “Now why would a junior college give part-time faculty released time for research?” I asked.

  “I have a reputation in the field. That merits some special consideration. The college is well aware of needing to go the extra mile for a scholar of some renown.”

  “I know you have a reputation, Lionel, and it certainly seems to follow you around,” I said.

  “Li, it’s snowing a lot more now, and I want a ciggie. Let’s go before we get trapped in this place,” Bridget said.

  “You go ahead, my dear. I’ll be right with you.”

  Bridget headed down the hall toward the outside door. As she reached out to open it, Der appeared in the doorway, held it open for her and entered the hallway. I could see Bridget pause outside and light her cigarette.

  “Don’t make trouble for me, Laura,” said Lionel. “You may have scared my brother, but you won’t scare me. There’s nothing but rumor out there, and you know how the academy protects their own.”

  Der walked up to the two of us, catching the tail end of Lionel’s speech. “But this time a woman is dead.”

  Something shifted on Lionel’s face. A sly look replaced the anger in his eyes.

  “I knew Marie, of course. So sad, that whole thing. Especially for those of us who loved her.”

  “Loved her? You loved her?” My mouth dropped open at the audacity of his assertion.

  “Of course, I did. I was just a middle-aged man swept off his feet by her beauty and her intelligence. No one could ever replace her in my heart.” At this, he placed his hand on his chest where his heart would have been if he had one. A single tear fell from his eye. It appeared that he gathered himself together with difficulty. “That silly little thing with me today? Just one more in a line of bimbos who think they can capture my attention.”

  Lionel hadn’t seen the door at the end of the hallway open and Bridget enter. His back was to the door, and, if he had turned his head to see down the hall, his view would have been blocked by Der’s large frame in the way. That Bridget had caught every word he uttered was revealed in the interplay of hurt and anger in her eyes and in the words she spoke in a choked voice.

  “Lionel, you pig. You’re going to regret saying that.” Anger had won out. She turned and strode down the hall and back out the door.

  “Now look what the two of you have done.” He pulled his coat about him and chased after her.

  “Nothing is ever his fault, is it?” I said.

  “That was quite a speech,” Der said. “I don’t suppose you bought any of it.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  A figure in uniform appeared at Melvin Chaffee’s door. Captain Rodgers walked from the office into the hallway. “I heard every word of that speech. There goes a broken man.” Rodgers pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and noisily blew his nose.

  Behind him, I saw Melvin Chaffee shaking his head, obviously not taken in by his brother’s speech.

  “What do you think, Melvin?” I said.

  Melvin coughed and shifted his weight uneasily in his office chair. “He’s upset, obviously.”

  “I’d be upset, too. Especially if I had to drive that young woman all the way to Syracuse. I don’t know what would be worse, dead silence or yelling.” Der wiped his knuckles across his mouth as if hiding a smile.

  Melvin stood up and cleared his throat. “I haven’t got all day here. Let’s get going. I asked Captain Rodgers to sit with us because I’m really not sure how much jurisdiction you have on this campus, Detective. Captain Rodgers assures me that you have very little.”

  Rodgers was still blowing and wiping his nose. He merely nodded.

  “Actually, I’m just here as an invited guest. Laura wanted to see you, and she needed a ride, so I brought her across campus.” Der blinked his brown eyes and then stared innocently around the room.

  “Read this.” I handed Chaffee a sheet of paper. He scanned the sheet and looked at me with puzzlement on his face.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “It’s one of the stories that was planted by fraternity boys in my research. I thought you might know something about it.” I was watching his face carefully. Melvin’s expression registered nothing but confusion and surprise at the story.

  “What I find so interesting, Melvin, is that the original of this story, now probably taped together in the forensic office,”—that was wild speculation on my part but Der didn’t look as if he wanted to deny it, at least not in front of these folks—“had a phone number written at the bottom, your phone number, Melvin. How do you explain that?” If Der was disconcerted at my giving Melvin information we previously withheld from public, he didn’t show it. He leaned casually against Melvin’s office wall looking slightly bored.

  “I don’t know how my number got on any story planted in your research. Just what fraternity are we talking about?”

  “You do know Ryan Cleates, don’t you? Didn’t he approach you early this fall about helping his fraternity out with a writing project?”

  Melvin turned his back and walked to his desk. When he turned back to us, his face was blank. “I think I want a lawyer,” he said. “I know I want all of you out of my office and now!” He pointed to the door.

  “I don’t feel like going just yet. All this talk of lawyers makes me think you have something to hide, and I think I know what it is.” I pulled the school newspaper out of my pocket and threw it on Melvin’s desk. “Next to the last page, Melvin. Your name is listed as the faculty sponsor for Ryan’s fraternity. So of course he would turn to you for those stories. Who better to write them than an English professor, especially the one who’s the fraternity’s advisor?” Der pushed off from the wall and stood upright, curiosity animating his features.

  “You hid this from me, Dr. Chaffee, and I specifically asked you about any contact with the fraternity.” Der delivered these words in his most severe official investigator voice. Melvin blanched.

  “I haven’t really had much contact with them. Just the one time when Ryan came here asking me to help him with a writing project. I blew him off. I thought this advisor thing would be simple, a mere formality. I sign off on their budget, and that’s it. I wasn’t about to have anything else to do with them. No other advisor does anything for his group except sign the financial form approving the budget. Why should I be bothered with more? I told the little creep to get lost. That’s all.”

  Although that was a nice recovery, his face was still the color of minute rice. But he wasn’t finished.

  He turned to Rodgers. “Get these people out of my of
fice, can’t you? What are you here for anyway if you can’t keep faculty from being harassed in their own offices?”

  Rodgers looked confused at most of what had been said. His tiny eyes shot back and forth among Melvin, Der and me. “Now, Dr. Chaffee, if you are withholding important information, you’d better give it up. And you other two, you’d better just leave, uh, I think.” The radio on his shoulder crackled. He held up his finger and stepped out the door into the hall. Moments later, he stuck his head back in the door. “Got to go now. Important, uhm, stuff on the other side of campus.” He almost ran down the hall toward the outside doorway. Der and I turned toward each other, suppressing laughter, Der by coughing into his hand and I by feigning a hiccup.

  “Come back here, you lousy excuse for a police officer. Arrest these people.” Melvin’s voice followed Rodgers’ retreat down the hall to no avail. When Rodgers failed to return, Melvin appeared to deflate like a punctured tire, dropping into his office chair with his head in his hands. “Please just leave now,” he begged. Der and I looked at each other and shrugged in unison.

  “I had the same effect on two salespeople at the automobile showroom,” I said to Der as he helped me limp through the snow to the car. “Was it something I said, or do you think it’s a bug going around?”

  *

  I sat alone in my office after Der dropped me off. I promised him that I would go home immediately, but instead I sat at my desk with the chair swiveled around so that I could look out over the campus. I sighed, watching the snow come down in blowing swirls. Only three days until Thanksgiving and over a month since Marie Becca’s murder. Although I never met the young woman, I was beginning to feel I knew her well. What a tragic end to a promising life, especially for such a courageous young woman. I didn’t feel much like celebrating on Thursday, but Der and I planned everything, and I invited some of my research assistants and a few other friends to the house for dinner. Der and I would shop for supplies tomorrow. My foot was much better, more noticeably so when I kept off it. I sighed again and pushed myself out of the chair. Time to go home, feed Sam and build a fire in the stove.