Formula for Murder (21 page)

“I’ve racked my brain. I remember nothing. Saw some kids in the hall. One even bumped into me, but I didn’t recognize anyone,” she shrieked.

“OK, OK, didn’t mean to upset you. But it’s very possible the killer thinks you know who he or she is. There are still some people who have no alibi. One is your friend Abner. He’s still on our list despite your analysis results. Stay away from him. Be careful. Be aware. And don’t be foolish!”

Chapter 19

Some combinations of forms are particularly desirable, such as the garland/angle combination. The softness of the garland derives strength and support from the angle so the writer is not a complete pushover. The angle is made softer by the garland, showing a greater willingness to adapt.

“Handwriting Analysis: The Complete Basic Book”

             
             
             
by Karen Amend and Mary Ruiz

Kat slowly inched her way into the basement and confronted the reality of one’s worst suspicions about fraternities. This room was blacklisted from the campus tour for visiting parents and prospective students. Dark from the lack of windows and redolent of 100 years of stale beer and spilled liquor it reeked of decay. The set of drums taking center stage in the corner, and the new coat of red paint on the walls breaking into the darkness, added the only modern touch. Yet hope lingered amidst the smoke of yesteryears, swirled around the lounge chairs scattered between the microphones, and echoes of those still waiting to be heard bounced off the amplifiers. Still there was an air of desertion and she wondered if Jason had directed her here with something sinister in mind. Then she saw Mick half-asleep on the sofa shrouded in a putty-colored cover that wafted with the stench of dead dreams and unknown organisms.

Her gasp aroused Mick. “What’s happening lady?”

Kat only slightly sympathized with the kid and his apparent hangover. “You want a cup of coffee?”

He groggily responded, “You took a wrong turn for the Cross Roads Café?”

She wondered why she let her demented ideas bring her to a place like this.

Mick straightened to a half–sitting position, buried his head in his hands, and groaned himself into coherency.

“Sorry. You lookin’ for me?”

“Well, I am looking for you if you’re Mick. I was told you might help me with a publicity idea of sorts.”

Mick, the leader of the band, “Sweatin’ Swillers,” though short on sleep, was always aiming for the big time and knew the value of promotion. He couldn’t imagine what this woman had to offer but aroused himself to find out.

“What say we get out of here and grab that cup a’ coffee? By then we’ll know for sure if I’m Mick and if I can help you. Been at the drums all night. We’re playing a gig here tonight and we needed the practice. Our frat’s holding a Halloween party and you never know who might hear you.”

Katharine followed him upstairs to the kitchen, breathing in fresher air as she surfaced from the stench of stale beer. The room still smelled stale, but this time it was of the grease from onions, fries, and hamburgers cooked to fuel the education of students long gone. Mick quickly found the coffeepot and Kat settled tentatively on the barstool in the island. She wasn’t sure if it was safe to sit but definitely knew it wasn’t safe to lean on the counter, what she could see of it through the debris that smelled like last year’s barbecue and looked older still. She’d been in fraternities before but shook her head at what a difference a few years could make. Those years must have opened her olfactory nerves for one.

Mick noticed her uncertainty and laughed. “It looks and smells bad but it’s really only three days old. We’ve got strict cleaning rules around here.” He rinsed out the pot and started a new one to brew.

She winced, glanced around and debated. Should she question his sanity, or hers?

She finally settled to the topic that brought her there—photographing the Halloween party for the magazine. She openly admitted she was going for contrast, but promised that she would only shoot what he agreed to and wanted an honest story. She explained that she already had clearance from the administration, and from Jason, the president of the fraternity. Jason had directed her to Mick to arrange particulars. She said she’d tried to reach him for days but he never seemed to be around. Now the party was upon them and she literally begged.

“The biggest problem will be if there are underage drinkers here. We all know this isn’t a dry campus. But I can’t condone serving to minors and I certainly can’t photograph them drinking. I’m looking for a few legitimate party shots. Students having fun on Halloween.”

Mick lit a cigarette and eyed her speculatively. He sucked on it with personal dedication while he considered the implications. “If you promise to run one shot of the band with your article, even if we’re just in the background, I’ll promise you a clean party. What time exactly did you say you’d be coming?”

Kat laughed, knowing the underage drinkers would be warned off ahead of time, for a part of the night anyway.

“Sorry, that wasn’t clear. I was voicing my concerns, not requesting you fix the party. I want to show life here as it really is, though I have to admit it would be easier to garner approval if I wasn’t advertising any underage drinking.”

“Cool. We don’t serve anyone underage here. Too many hassles in past years to make it worth our while. We card at the door just like a bar.”

Mick didn’t say what kind of card they’d let pass and Katharine didn’t ask. Better to let things ride.

She arranged a time and delighted in breathing deeply of the crisp autumn air as she headed eagerly back to her car. She looked forward to free time off before her evening photo shoot. Katharine wanted to spend the afternoon at home, knowing it might be a long work night—though some wouldn’t complain about having to attend a party for work

Meeting Maddy for coffee
the morning after a frat party was not her best idea, Kat realized as she tried to steer her friend from the volatile subject of murder. “Maddy, we can’t just arrest people on your suspicions!”

“I didn’t say arrest him. I said I think they should take Abner in for questioning.”

Kat poured another cup of coffee, inhaling deeply to absorb its restorative powers. She was going to need it, she thought, as she tried to follow Maddy’s reasoning. “Why have you zeroed in on Abner? Just the other day we said his handwriting cleared him.”

“Well, you said he was being secretive about something. Besides, he won’t tell me what he was doing the night of the murder.”

“Maddy, you didn’t just out and ask him, did you? Burrows will kill me!”

“Yes, I did ask him. And why will Burrows kill you? I’m the one that asked.”

“Because Burrows always blames me when his investigations get compromised. And in this case, I am responsible. If I’d never confided in you you wouldn’t have gone after Abner.”

“Faulty logic,” Maddy said decisively as she buttered another scone, slathered on blackberry jam, then plunged into touchy territory. “You’ve been having a lot of faulty logic lately, just look at your relationship with Nick.”

She almost choked on her coffee. “What faulty logic? Worse yet, what relationship?”

“Oh come on. It’s one thing to ignore him as a suspect, but to deny you have a relationship?”

Kat didn’t know which accusation to tackle first. The relationship issue was slightly sensitive and she wanted to veer from it, but the other wasn’t much better. He’d been there that night; no one knew exactly when he’d arrived. And, he circumvented talking to anyone about the murder until the next morning. OK, she’d at least listen to what Maddy had to say.

Casually, to belie her deep concern, she asked, “What makes you think Nick could be involved? Did somebody say something?”

Maddy delayed, polishing off another scone. How could that woman eat so much and never gain a pound, Kat wondered as she waited impatiently. She smiled at the waitress and waved her away before Maddy ordered more food.

Finally her friend daintily wiped her mouth. “The problem is what hasn’t been said. No one seems to know anything about the man. He’s friendly enough, and everyone seems to like him, but if you ask anything at all about him they admit ignorance. Like, what did he do there? What type of work? Where in the agency? Where did he live? What’s he doing here only temporarily? Etc. etc.”

“Oh, that stuff. Well, I have to admit I’ve been wondering myself.” She pondered confiding her other fears as Maddy stared knowingly at her, waiting for more. Could she confess her apprehension that Nick might be playing her for a fool? Keeping her busy to cloud the issue? What was the issue?

She stumbled around a bit, trying to think of a good way to ask. Maddy just nodded patiently and waited.

“Do you think Nick could have done it? You know, killed Charlie?”

“Actually, I don’t think he did,” Maddy said with conviction. “But do you have any evidence that would clear him?”

Fear mingled with suspicion as Kat attempted to organize her thoughts. She couldn’t trust her own judgment; her feelings were too heightened where Nick was concerned. So she used Maddy’s approach. What evidence was there either way?

“Good point, Maddy.” Nothing puts him in that spot and nothing clears him. We know that President Ludlow trusts him, more than his own staff, or he wouldn’t have put Nick in charge of the internal investigation and as spokesman on the murder. Borrows doesn’t seem to have doubted him either.

“I want to believe in him. But can I trust my instincts? He was on campus that evening. He was late meeting President Ludlow. But he was also very sick when I caught up with him. Besides, I can’t imagine him killing anyone. And he didn’t know Professor Abbott as far as we know. What would be the motive?”

Maddy nodded as she opened her wallet. She waved away Kat’s money and picked up the check to head to the front cashier. “You’ve got a point there. So what is he hiding?”

Kat pondered Maddy’s question
as she marched up the neatly edged walk to the home of Maria Alvarez. She’d been planning a visit for days but the recent conversation with the president’s secretary had been haunting her, clouding her reasons for coming. Louise’s attitude toward Maria and the revelation of suppressed anger startled her. She was intrigued, though she could never consider the slight Maria as a killer. Could she?

“She’s not a murderer. Or is it murderess?” she questioned herself as she approached the door to the small brick house.

“She’s neither. She’s a wonderful person who’s convalescing and this is a long overdue sick visit,” Kat admonished herself, and tried to set the appropriate tone in her mind as she walked past the dying chrysanthemums.

Though she considered this a friendly sick visit, she’d also convinced herself to quietly pursue her visit to Maria before Carlos came home from work. Instinct told her Maria would be more open when Carlos was not around. Louise’s sharp retort echoed again in her mind in sync with the ringing of the doorbell. “It’s a shame. I’d wondered if it could have been Maria, despite her condition. Maybe she’s a raving maniac now and with some demented energy decided to knock off her worst enemy.”

The critical statement startled Kat, who’d never heard Louise say anything derogatory about one of the faculty since she’d known her. Louise had shaken her gray bobbed head in disgust at herself. Then straightened up. “I know, but in my 25 years here the only time I heard shouting in there,” cocking her head toward the president’s inner sanctum, “was Maria, ranting about Charlie Abbott. She was livid. That was just before her breakdown. Makes you wonder.”

It had made Kat wonder, too. She hadn’t garnered any new information, but something bothered her about the situation. She decided a call on Maria would be the kindly thing to do, and might clear things up in her mind. Now that she was there, in front of the small but well-tended home so near campus, she wondered what she would say. What was she looking for? Was she crazy to even have come? It was too late now to wish Nick was with her. She braced her shoulders and rang the bell again.

She waited a long time. No one came. No curtain rustled. But her scalp itched, like someone was staring at it. Kat swiveled around but saw no one. She almost gave up when there was movement by the front window. Slowly the door opened. Maria looked out at her openly. No fear there. No guile. Just a confused frown and than a dawning.