Angel Food and Devil Dogs (45 page)

"Kathryn, Maggie, listen to me now," we both turned to her voice, "it's time to go. President Bouchet will take care of the rest of this." She looked at me intently... "The press is coming. It would be best if..." She glanced at Kathryn who was really quite pale. "Take her home now, Maggie." Amanda Knightbridge fixed me with the kind of stare that birds of prey use to compel their victims. In this case, it simply made me take Kathryn and go.

∞ ∞ ∞

During the short drive to the loft Kathryn was talking at full throttle. Words spilled out of her like a Texas livestock auctioneer two fisting espressos. Everything made sense, but she was jumping from topic to topic at warp speed. I'd seen this kind of adrenalin rush before. It happens to rookie cops after their first car chase or stand off. I'd had it to a lesser degree after the fire.

Kathryn said that after she'd left the administration building she went directly to her office. She'd felt horrible after hitting me, even though I'd insisted in a whisper that she must.

She paused for the sixth time in the story to say, "I'm so sorry, does it hurt? I'm so sorry."

I gently told her yet again that she should stop worrying about it. I didn't mention it had hurt like heck, because it didn't matter. I was so proud of her. I'd known at once that Kathryn hadn't written the email. She and Bouchet had already conferred about it in his office. When I stepped up to her, she fell into the necessary role immediately. It was complicated. She'd had to be angry at what I was saying without admitting she'd written the text, because the killer would suspect her if she pretended she had. She'd managed splendidly. My part was easy. It wasn't hard for me to act annoyed. I was violently angry at the killer for using Kathryn in this way, but I hadn't understood that the killer was actually after Kathryn. Not at that moment anyway. Not consciously.

Kathryn said she'd been behind her desk when her office door suddenly opened and Getty walked in. She was surprised, since she thought the door had been locked. It turned out that Getty, being the Dean of Students, had kept passkeys to the entire campus for years.

"In the first seconds I wasn't too concerned to see Leo. I'd mentioned I needed to talk to him when I'd seen him in the elevator. I certainly didn't think he'd come there to kill me..." said Kathryn in a way that would have seemed casual if she hadn't been talking at 45 rpm in a voice an octave higher than usual. "But then I saw the gun!" she sped on, "I thought there was supposed to be security following Leo?"

We found out later that the security guard Bouchet had assigned to tail Getty had lost him in the first three minutes. Getty had managed to get on the elevator by himself, then avoided the security men in the building lobby by taking the elevator to the second floor and walking down the stairs to the basement. He'd used one of his keys to open a stairwell that exited from the back of the building behind some bushes. Getty had made it to Kathryn's office in just a few minutes.

"He began waving the gun around, yelling that I was a meddling dyke bitch and that all the problems of the world were due to homosexuals," recounted Kathryn. "It was what I'd said to him in the elevator that made him come after me. Remember when I'd said,
I'll get to you?
Well, he thought I was threatening him."

I was relieved at that. I'd felt very guilty that it was my little dog and pony show with Carl's laptop might have spurred Getty into action.

"I didn't speak much. Most of the time I couldn't understand him," said Kathryn. She paused to yawn but she was still talking fourteen to the dozen.

"The phone rang and it was you. I just said the first thing that came into my mind to you. I was so worried. I knew you'd come charging in to try to save me," she turned to face me, "and you did... you did come charging in, and you did save me!" She smiled at me brilliantly.

"And you saved me, by hitting Leo. We're quite a team." I reached over to hold her hand.

Kathryn squeezed my hand back. Then skipped to another thought. She touched her swollen cheek. "Leo hit me," she said yawning. "He said I'd stuck my nose in where it didn't belong." Yawning again, her words slowed, like a victrola running down. "He... was... so... angry."

We'd arrived at the loft parking lot. Kathryn leaned her head back against the seat. I got out, walked around and opened her door.

"I feel so tired. I..." She yawned again raising the back of her hand to her mouth, acting like Dorothy in the poppy field. She was tumbling down off her adrenalin high and after all, neither of us had had much sleep in the last few days. I helped her out of the van and into the lobby. I thanked our lucky rainbows that the elevator was at the first floor, because one look at Kathryn told me she'd never make it up the stairs under her own steam.

"Lean against me," I told her, holding her up with one arm as I ran the elevator up to the third floor.

"What's wrong with me? I can't keep my eyes open," she said trying to shake the exhaustion from her head.

"You just need to take a little nap, querida. You've had a hard day." I put ice in a plastic bag for her cheek, then managed to get her into the bedroom without actually having to carry her.

"Will you come too? To take a nap...?" she asked in a far away voice. When she saw the bed, she wanted to drop onto it just as she was. She was wearing a tailored wool suit and silk blouse.

I said gently, "Kathryn, I really think you should put your jammies on."

She looked up at me, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"You do?" she asked in a sleepy whisper.

"Yeah, I'll help you, c'mon." I steered her into the dressing room, leaned her against the wall, found a long tee shirt, helped her out of her clothes and into the sleepwear and then steered her to the bed. I tucked her in and kissed her forehead. She was already asleep. The whole thing would have been pretty adorable, if the preceding event hadn't been so terrifying.

It was still early afternoon. I felt out of it too, but not in the same way. I needed to work out. I knew Kathryn would sleep for at least three hours. When she woke up she was going to be ravenously hungry. I've been there. I know what it's like. So I called The Farmer's Market Deli and asked them to deliver a bunch of sandwiches. Then I called Sara. She was in her office downstairs. I told her what happened and that I figured the cops and press were about to hound us.

"I'll take care of them," said Sara efficiently. "You'll both have to talk to the police, but let's set it up for tonight at 6:00 PM in my office. That will give Kathryn some time to rest and she won't have to leave the building. The press won't be able to get at her here."

As a lawyer, Sara's a shark. Good thing she's on our side. I thanked her, said we'd be there at 6:00 and then went upstairs to spend some time kicking and punching inanimate objects.

A few days later, Kathryn and I were having dinner at Farrel and Jessie's. We'd been cooped up in the loft dodging the press and were suffering from cabin fever. So we sneaked out the back under cover of winter's early darkness.

Jessie's kitchen was full of good things to eat, as always. The main course was a simmering paella with chicken, sausage and extra large crawfish on a bed of saffron rice. There were crisp rounds of deep fried potatoes on a large platter, and two kinds of homemade salad dressing.

"We've held off on this long enough," said Farrel. "We want to know how you figured this all out!"

"Don't say anything until I get there," said Jessie bringing a large bowl of green salad to the table. "Now, first the suicide note, what made you think of the voice program?"

"Well," I said, "I'm kind of embarrassed about that. Georgia Smith guessed it. She wasn't saying
Carl's macaroni's can,
she was saying
Carl's
Macro Needs Scan
. I just couldn't understand her. Not consciously anyway. Then I dreamed about Carl spitting macaroni on the computer keyboard. Surreal but literal, like a Dali movie sequence. Leo rigged Carl's computer so that when Carl said his name the macro would be the suicide note."

"And how did you know it was Leo?" asked Farrel.

"A lot of things..." I paused. "See, once I realized the intended victim was Kathryn, it eliminated most of the other suspects. For one thing, I figured out that Leo had shot at Rowlina, because he mistook her for Kathryn.

"You're kidding!" said Jessie and Farrel in unison.

"No, really. What he saw was: Same color coat, same red scarf, and to someone as nutty as Leo, Rowlina's fox fur hat was about the same color as Kathryn's hair. Also Leo had broken the light bulb above the Language Arts Building door to give himself more cover, but the darkness made it harder for him to see his victim. He was sure that Kathryn was in her office because the light was on. At that point he wasn't confident enough to go right into her office, so he waited outside. He figured whoever came out had to be Kathryn. I even caught a whiff of his cheap aftershave still wafting around the building a few hours later. Anyway, since the killer had shot at Rowlina, that ruled Rowlina out as a suspect.

"Was she one?" asked Jessie.

"Sure, she had opportunity but there wasn't much motive. Of course, any of them might have finagled a grant or faked a degree requirement and so would have feared Kathryn because she was checking up on grants and credentials and she had a reputation for exposing fraud in colleges. Rowlina had been acting guilty, but it was because of the INS probe."

"But how did you know the killer was after
Kathryn
?" Farrel asked.

"The clincher for me was seeing the three pack of Devil Dogs. Things that came in three packs were even taunting me in my dream. See, Devil Dogs come in three packs which reminded me that Cafalattes do too, but in the fridge in the Administration Building storage room, there were no open three packs of Cafalatte. I began to consider the importance of that as soon as Kathryn mentioned Caffelattes came in threes, here at the brunch. There should have been an opened package with two bottles in it, if Connie had put a Caffelatte out for Kathryn. So how did a Cafalatte bottle get on the back table without leaving an open pack in the fridge? The answer: Connie didn't put one there, but the killer did."

I looked at Kathryn who was gazing at me with fascination even though she knew the story already. I snorted. She smirked.

I said, "Everybody knows that Cafalatte is Kathryn's drink; heck they stock the College cafeteria with it just for her. Leo must have been carrying that bottle bomb around for days, incredibly dangerous thing to do, even if it wasn't armed. Then he saw his chance. He put the rigged Cafalatte on the table because he assumed Kathryn would be at the meeting and would pick it up. Several people said that they hadn't seen Leo carrying an extra bottle back to his seat, which gave him a bit of an alibi. But it turned out Leo didn't have to spirit the real Cafalatte bottle away, due to Miranda's anal efficiency. See, Connie had gone into the storage room to load a tray with bottles, but she forgot the list of drinks. Meanwhile Miranda, learning that Kathryn was not going to be at the meeting, efficiently crossed off the Cafalatte for Kathryn from the list on Connie's desk. Too bad I didn't just ask Miranda about that, or even Connie. Either could have told me that Kathryn's drink had been crossed off. Anyway that cleared Miranda. She knew Kathryn wasn't coming, so she wouldn't have tried to kill her with the bottle. And Connie would have known as well, so that let her off."

Did you suspect Miranda?" asked Farrel.

"She'd been a possible suspect... not much of a motive though, especially against Kathryn. By the way, Miranda didn't even try to bail Shel Druckenmacher out of jail, even though he begged her, and it turned out there were several outstanding warrants under different names on him from other states. DNA evidence will probably link him to Daria's murder but Emma and Sara have already found the key. Daria had actually taken some of Shel's drugs to turn in to the police. He needed them to sell, if he didn't produce the cash, the higher-up dealers would kill him. He was desperate to get the drugs back. That was his motive for using deadly force to try to get Daria to tell him where the drugs were. Sara figured out where the drugs were hidden in Daria's office, and Emma found a street source who told her about the dealer pressure on Shel."

"What a terrible man," said Kathryn.

I paused while Farrel filled everyone's wine glass.

"That left only Jimmy and Leo," I went on. "Jimmy was a tough one, he was acting like a guilty psycho, but he knew right away that Kathryn didn't write the note. Since Jimmy could easily have avoided it, he didn't write it. That left Leo, his grammar is terrible."

"And Leo was stalking me," prompted Kathryn.

"Yeah, I literally bumped into Leo in front of Kathryn's office. I'm glad I did, because I guess he was there to... well he had Skylar's gun with him and he'd probably seen Kathryn's light on..." I didn't like to think about how many times Kathryn had just missed being Leo's target. He'd even borrowed his son Leo Jr.'s Neon to stalk Kathryn at her office and me at Carl's apartment and then Kathryn at the Hampshire.

"How do you know he had the gun that night?" asked Jessie.

"It was in his belt and he smashed into me. It left quite a bruise," I unconsciously touched my hip. He was even afraid to take his hands out of his pockets after he bumped me. I must have dislodged the gun and he was holding it under his jacket."

"Were you ever able to find out Bart's reason for going back into the conference room?" asked Kathryn.

"He decided it would be a great idea to get that Cafalatte for you since he'd messed up getting it at the airport, but then he remembered a memo about removing supplies from the building and he felt he'd be admitting to pilfering if he came clean. So he tried to cover it up."

"That man really is a buffoon," said Kathryn to me. "Do you think he even understands right from wrong?"

"I don't think he even understands right from left," I sighed.

"But why? Why did Leo do all this? Was it just because he hates gay people?" asked Jessie.