Part 3 (1/2)

aWhatas going on?a I asked Ed in a strangled whisper. Before he could answer, a uniformed officer loomed over us. aHands on the table, all of you! Keep your mouths shut! This is a raid, not a d.a.m.n tea party!a Hooked up with a cool expression meant to chide him only a bit for his presumptive error. aThereas been a mistake, Officer. I merely came by to have a word with someone. I know nothing whatsoever of any illegal activity, and Iave never made a bet in my life. I think it would be for the best if I slipped away quietlya aThat your money?a He pointed at the five-dollar bill. aNo, it most certainly is not. It belongs to the comatose gentleman beside me. Now, if you donat mind-a The comatose gentleman rolled his head to one side. ad.a.m.n straight itas mine. The senator here and I have a little bet, and in a minute Iam going to-a His head went back down, flattening his nose. He began to snore.

aPolitician, huh?a The policeman gave me an icy smile as he recited the Miranda warning to me.

During the caravan-style ride to the local jail, handcuffed and squished between two odoriferous patrons in the backseat of the police car, I learned that the Dew Drop Inn had been under surveillance for over a year. My arrival had not been a factor in the decision to raid the establishment. Iad chosen a particularly inopportune day to visit, a day when gamblers surfaced like worms after a shower and law enforcement agents could count on copious quant.i.ties of money and betting slips to be within the establishment.

It was educational, I suppose, but not the stuff of which warm memones were made. I was subjected to fingerprinting, being photographed (I demanded to be a!lowed access to a mirror first, but they were less than cooperative), and ultimately placed in a barren cell and informed that theyad get to me sooner or later.

Earlier in the afternoon, after the unpleasantries with Peter, Caron and Jnez, and the anonymous caller, Iad a.s.sumed things couldnat get much worse. Sitting on a metal bench, acutely aware of the darkness and aroma of urine in the air, idly reading obscene graffiti, facing the possibility that I might be doing the same twelve hours in the future, I had to admit Iad been wrong. And what had I accomplished? Iad met Ed Whitbred, but I had no reason to think he had any involvement in Jean Hallas death or Debbie Anne Wrayas disappearance. He was not my manin-the-moon proWler, unless head happened upon an incredibly effective remedy for baldness.

I wasnat at all sure what the appropriate behavior was for my situation. I would be allowed to make a phone call before they interrogated me, but theyad implied it might be some time before my name rose to the top of the list. I had neither a metal cup with which to bang on the bars nor a bent spoon with which to tunnel out. I didnat know any spirituals.

I was considering using my one telephone call to order a pizza when the cell door opened and Jorgeson came in. aGood evening, Ms. Malloy,a he said as if we were meeting under the portico of the Book Depot. Had he been wearing a hat, I was certain he would have touched its brim ever so urbanely. aI understand youare in a jam.a aItas actually a cell. How did you know Iad been left here to rot for hours and hours?a aAccording to the arresting officer and the desk sergeant, youave been in here for less than half an hour- although Iam sure it felt longer. Time doesnat fly in the Farberville City Jail, or so Iave been told.a aWhat else have you been told?a He seemed to have a decent idea of the events that had led to my incarceration, and related them in a carefully noncommittal tone, then said, aOne of the officers at the scene recognized your name and called Lieutenant Rosen, thinking head want to hear about it. He called me.a Iad been irritated earlier, but now I was beginning to get angry. aWhy didnat he come down here himself?a Jdrgesonas bulldog face turned red and his ears quivered-a response Iad seen on previous occasions when he was deeply uncomfortable. Looking at something on the wall above my head, he said, aAh, the lieutenant said something about being busy, being tied up. Once he heard Arnie Riggles had been picked up in the raid, he said he figured you were up to your old-that you were interfering-I mean, involved in an investigation. He said head call the desk and tell aem to release you to my custody until the arraignment.a aThe arraignment, Jorgeson? Are you implying that Lieutenant Peter Rosen has no plans to have a quiet word with the head of the operation and make it clear that I am totally innocent of anything more wicked than a tiny lapse in judgment? That I will be brought to court to face a fine or further time in this charming room? Is that what youare implying?a aI donat think heall let it go that far, Ms. Malloy. The call caught him in a bad mood, and he was kind of sputtery when he heard about your friend with the motorcycle. Iam sure heall do something to help in the morning.a aWhat did you mean when you said he was busy?a I continued relentlessly, my face quite as red as his and my ears tingling, if not quivering. aJust precisely what was he doing when he received the call?a Jorgeson closed his eyes for a moment, and his gulps were audible. aI think maybe he had company. Letas go back to the desk and arrange your release. Youall be home in no time, sitting on your sofa with a nice hot cup of tea, and all this will seem like a bad dream.a aCompany?a I said, although I did leap to my feet and follow him down the corridor.

aI believe he mentioned something about Lieutenant Pipkin. Itas none of my business, Ms. Malloy; Iam just following orders.a aThat was an inadequate defense at Nuremberg, Jorgeson. Whoas this Lieutenant Pipkin? Is he on the CID squad?a He stopped so abruptly that I narrowly avoided a collision, and he pulled me aside as another of my coconspirators from the Dew Drop Inn was escorted to a cell. aLike I said, itas none of my business what Lieutenant Rosen does when heas off duty. We sometimes have a beer or go to the college baseball games, but for the most part we go our separate ways. My wife and I were watching a video and Iad like to get home so we can finish it before midnight. If youare curious about Lieutenant Pipkin, call her yourself. Sheas on the campus security force.

Despite the unruliness of my thoughts, I remained impressively impa.s.sive as Jorgeson did the necessary paperwork to gain my release, drove me to the Airport Arms, and waved as he pulled onto the highway. Ed Whitbredas motorcycle was not there, and I felt a little guilty as I realized he wouldnat have been in the Dew Drop den of iniquity had he not escorted me there. Arnie deserved everything that happened to him, and a good deal more, but Ed had been minding his own business- until Iad shown up.

I opened my car door, then glanced at the second story Edas apartment was dark, as was the one next to it; I knew where the renters were, and were likely to be until their arraignments in the morning. Would I take advantage of the fortuitous circ.u.mstances that had led to my premature release? Would Oral Roberts accept a blank check?

I went upstairs and along the balcony to the penultimate apartment. Back in the Airport Armsa heyday, a renter might have been able to lock the door to protect himself from his feral neighbors, but now the k.n.o.b felt loose enough to come off in my hand with only a minimal yank. It was just as well; Arnie would have lost a key as easily as he did consciousness. I opened the door a few inches and said into the darkness, ah.e.l.lo? Is anybody here?a If anyone was there, he or she was not in a congenial mood. I went inside, closed the door, and felt for the light switch, trying not to think about the last time Iad been in a similar situation. Arnieas environment was more likely to host rats.

I flipped on the light and hastily pulled the drapes together. Although the light was visible, I hoped that anyone bothering to notice would a.s.sume the tenant was home. The living room was squalid, to be charitable, and decorated primarily with beer cans, plates of petrified food, teetery piles of yellowed magazines and newspapers, and furniture that looked downright dangerous. I knew I was in the right apartment.

The kitchen was filthy, the bathroom more so, and the bedroom surely had been the target of an invasion of the magnitude of Desert Storm. Like the Kappa Theta Etas, Arnie preferred to utilize the floor rather than the closet, although there were no pink cashmere sweaters amid the paint-splattered overalls and dingy gray jockey shorts.

It was hopeless. If there was anything to explain his involvement, I was not going to stumble across it without several hours of intensive search through nasty stuff. I opened the dresser drawers, looked inside the closet, and forced myself to kneel for a quick peek under the bed. If Iad been hunting for dust bunnies and liquor bottles, I would have been incredibly successful, but as it was, I reminded myself of the inanity of my mission and returned to the living room.

On the inside of the doork.n.o.b hung a camera on a black plastic strap. I wasnat any more familiar with cameras than I was with male rites of spring, but I examined it and concluded a roll of film remained inside it. Would one shot be of a startled bookseller, her mouth agape, fingers splayed to block the blinding flash? And, more interestingly, of whom or what would the others be? Arnie was not an amateur engaging in his hobby beneath the windows of the Kappa Theta Eta house. Earlier Iad opined that he was not a murderer, but this was in no way to imply that Iad ever doubted his capacities as a voyeur. Or a blackmailer, in which case the film was likely to hold his evidence.

After a series of futile attempts to disengage the roll of film, I decided to borrow the camera long enough to have one of the nice young people at the one-hour photo service a.s.sist me. I switched off the light and opened the door.

Ed Whitbred blocked my way, intentionally or otherwise. aaSometimes they shut you up in jail-dark, and a filthy cell; I hope the fellows built them jails, find aem down in h.e.l.l.a E. F. Piper, of course.a aOf course,a I echoed lamely. aIam delighted that youave been released, Ed. It was my fault that you were at that place, and I want to apologize to you. If they end up pressing charges, Iall certainly testify on your behalf.a aAnd I wonat have to call you at an office in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C., will I? I can drop by your upstairs apartment next to the sorority house, or catch you at the Book Depot on Thurber Street.a I was disturbed not only by his faintly sardonic tone, but also by his undeniable bulk, which seemed to have taken root on the balcony outside Arnieas door. aAny time, Ed. Thanks for the motorcycle ride. It was the first time Iad been on one, and it really is a special sensation of its own, isnat it?a My hands were sweating as I clutched the camera, but it was a little late in the scenario to put it behind my back. aWell, Iad better run along home now. My daughter will be worried, and my brief time in jail has left me ravenous, and of course a cup of tea will be divine. You wonat believe this, but I was thinking about using my call to order a pizza when. . . they released me. Isnat that silly?a He was unmoved by my dithering. aWhat were you doing in Arnieas apartment, Ms. Malloy? The only thing worth stealing is his fancy new camera. It took me more than a week to teach him how to use it, but he finally got the hang of it.a I couldnat force my way past him, and I had no desire to retreat into the apartment behind me. It was something of a stalemate. We stared at each other for what seemed a long time, neither of us commenting on the incriminatory object in my hands. I finally decided it was a checkmate and thrust the camera at him. aI simply wanted to a.s.sure myself that no one disturbed Arnieas apartment during his absence. When I saw this, I was concerned that someone might steal it, so I thought Iad keep it for him until his return. However, as long as youare here, you might as well a.s.sume responsibility for it.a As he reached for the camera, I shoved it into his belly hard enough to throw him off-balance, and darted past him. I clattered down the staircase, fumbling in my purse for my keys, and did not look back until I was inside my car, the doors locked, the windows rolled up tightly, and the key in the ignition switch.

The balcony was deserted. A light shone from behind the curtains in his apartment. While Iad escaped like a gawky heroine, gasping and moaning, imagining his thick fingers encircling my neck or jerking me off my feet, Ed Whitbred had gone inside and most likely opened a beer. If he was to be a villain in the piece, he definitely needed to work on his role.

9.

aAnd he quoted Milton?a gurgled Luanne as she fell back against the bench, laughing so hard that beer sloshed out of her gla.s.s. aWhy? Did you ask him why?a I knew what she meant, but I chose to misinterpret it. aIam sure he felt that the occasion demanded it.a It was noon of the following day, and wead met at the beer garden to picnic at our preferred table. Nothing had happened after Iad returned from my disastrous outing to the Airport Arms. Caron and Inez were huddled in the bedroom, too concerned with finances to notice my absence, and Peter Rosen must have been too busy with his distaff counterpart from the campus security force to worry about me.

Jorgeson had called earlier in the morning to tell me that my name had been deleted from all reports of the raid and I need not appear at the arraignment. I spurned his offer to send me my mug shot as a souvenir. Theread been no sign of activity at the Kappa Theta Eta house when Iad walked to the Book Depot, and neither Debbie Anne nor my anonymous caller had deigned to interrupt the ensuing hours of idleness.

Luanne wiped tears from her cheeks and attempted a more decorous voice, although little noises that resembled m.u.f.fled sneezes erupted periodically. aHereas this h.e.l.las Angel with the exterior of--I donat know-the interior of a comic book, but undeniably with the soul of a poet. Having escaped from the local penal colony, the two of you meet on a moonlit balcony. Do you flutter your eyelashes and softly say, aGood night! Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say good night till it be morrowa? No, you knock him into the railing and run downstairs. You ought to give up those dreary mystery novels, Claire. Read some romances! Surely Azalea Twilight did one about the raw and primitive pleasure of the motorcycle between oneas thighs, the wind caressing oneas b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the taciturn yet incredibly virile hero.... No, the guys usually have mysterious scars, not elaborate needlework.a I frowned at her. aEdas no d.a.m.n easier to characterize than anyone else in this mess. I canat decide if heas a potential party guest or a killer, but why should I have any more luck with him than with any of the others? None of the character references have come from what we might consider unbiased sources. The Kappas adored Jean and loathe Debbie Anne. Mrs. Wray espouses the mundane maternal line. Vouching for Ed Whitbred is none other than Arnie, whoad profess adoration for a barnyard animal if there were anything in it for him. Why canat I have a nice group of disinterested parties?a Luanne finished her sandwich and wadded up the paper wrapper. aLike some of the professors at the college?a aI was about to say that very thing.a When I got back to the bookstore, I called the apartment and let the telephone ring until Caron acknowledged defeat and answered it with a drowsy snarl.

aI need you to watch the store this afternoon, dear I said. aBe here in thirty minutes or kiss your evening plans goodbye.a aAnd pa.s.s up a Totally Tedious slumber party at Rhondaas? You mean I canat do the limbo and run around all night in pink sponge curlers? Dine on generic chips and onion dip made out of the same chemicals as napalm? Make prank calls to the football team? Please donat throw me in that brier patch, Braer Mother.a I was impressed with the quickness with which she went from somnolence to sarcasm. aJust be here,a I said and hung up before she reached her optimum pitch. I needed Debbie Anneas cla.s.s schedule. In the past I might have called Peter to see if I could wheedle it out of him with my usual dexterity. Now I would sooner have arranged for an amputation. The registraras office would refuse in the middle of my first sentence, citing student privacy. Lieutenant Pipkin of the campus security force would be no more forthcoming-and would report my request to her newest boyfriend.

I called Eleanor Vanderson, who did not obligingly answer the phone on the first ring or any of the next fifteen. She was apt to be lunching on chicken salad with the faculty wives, or playing bridge. I suspected she would be very good at the latter-and would never touch the former unless it contained homemade mayonnaise and slivered almonds. No one answered the phone at the Kappa house.

aI Cannot Believe youare doing this to me, Mothera Caron said as she and Inez dragged into the store an hour later aAlthough this country was founded on the economic necessity of indentured servants and slaves, I seem to think Mr. Lincoln put a stop to it more than a hundred years ago. I was planning to go through the yearbook and make a list of potential My Beautiful Self clients. Pippa said she did that when she was getting started. Do you know how much money sheas made in the last three years?a aShe bought a convertible at the end of her first year,a Inez contributed. aOver spring break she went to Cozumel and made enough money while she was there to pay for the entire trip. She did sessions right on the beach.a Caron disappeared behind the self-help rack, but the barrier in no way diminished her voice. aPippaas mother helped her a whole bunch in the beginning by having parties and persuading her friends to have sessions. Her mother has lots of friends because sheas a past member of the Junior League, an active Kappa alumna, something in the hospital auxiliary, and something else at the country club. Decorations chairperson, I think.a aWhile youare burdened with a mother who has to earn a living,a I said as pleasantly as I could. aPerhaps you can drum up some business at Rhondaas tonight.a Caron peered over the top of the romances. aAfter we limbo?a Inez blinked with the solemnity of a small brown barn owl. aRhondaas got this thing about the limbo. Itas almost like an obsession, and if you say you donat want to or even lock yourself in the bathroom, sheall literally drag you into the living room and push you under the broomstick.a aHow low can you go?a oozed a disembodied voice from the direction of the cookbooks. aNo one can go as low as Rhonda, because she carries all that excess weight on her hips and her center of gravity is lower than everyone elseas.a aEnough!a I said. aIall be back in an hour or so. Donat take candy from strangers and donat take one red cent out of the cash register unless youare making change. You can still go through the yearbook to find victims; odds are good that no one will disturb you in my absence. In truth, the odds are excellent.a I put a notebook in my purse and was on my way through the door when Caron said, aThat man called again.a aWhen?a I demanded. aWhat did he say?a Shead moved behind the counter and was eyeing the cash register with an enigmatic glint. aIt was so dumb. When I answered the phone, all I heard was this heavy breathing. I didnat want to waste my time, so I asked if it was an obscene call, and he-a aYou asked if it was an obscene call?a I said carefully. aWhy should the line be tied up if all he was going to do was breathe, Mother? Someone might have been trying to call to arrange a My Beautiful Self session. Anyway, he kind of harrumphed and said it certainly was not and he didnat appreciate being accused of tacky behavior I pointed out that he was the one doing the hyperventilation bit, not I. He said he was thinking about what to say. I told him he should have done that before he called, and then I hung up.a aBut he called back,a Inez inserted bravely, then faded behind the science fiction rack. Caron, like any temperamental star, does not care to be prompted by an understudy.

aHe called back?a I said.

Caron had taken a compact from her purse and was examining the tip of her nose with the intensity of a microbiologist. When I repeated my question, she snapped it closed and sighed. aAbout two minutes later, if you can believe it. He did admit that he should have decided what to say before he called, although he was still huffy about my perfectly reasonable question.~~ Her perfectly reasonable mother was too bemused to do more than mmmur aAnd ...

aHe said that if you didnat stop b.u.t.ting into his affairs youad find yourself on the sidewalk selling burnt offerings. It was So Dumb. I mean, hasnat he ever heard of fire insurance? You do have adequate insurance, donat you?a Her green eyes turned the precise shade of mint ink. aWould there be enough left over to buy a used car?a aNo! There most definitely would not be enough left over to buy anything. I have some insurance, but-a I held in a groan as I looked at the old, dry wood of the rafters, the numerous racks of flammable paper products, the cardboard cartons stacked alongside the wall, the stacks of invoices and order forms, the catalogs. I could have renamed the place Tinder Box Books, had I been in a whimsical mood. I was not. aDid this man say anything else?a aNot really,a Caron said, still appraising the possibilities of a lovely check from the insurance company. aHe said something about if you had the negatives, youad better give them to him.a aWhat negatives?a aHe didnat say, and frankly, I was getting pretty tired of him. I said I wasnat your private secretary, told him to call you himself if he had any more obtuse messages, and then Inez and I left before he could call a third time. Thatas why we were late getting here.~~ aWhat about his voice?a I said. aCould you tell anything about his age? Did he have an accent?a aHe wasnat a kid, and he didnat have an accent. He was trying to be clever by talking in a whisper, which meant I had to keep asking him to repeat things until I was ready to scream. If you donat have decent manners on the telephone, you shouldnat be allowed to use it.a She crossed her anns and gave me a cold look. aDonat you need to go do whatever it is? Inez and I donat have all afternoon, you know. Weare supposed to be at Rhondaas at six, and we have to do our haira I walked back to my apartment in a daze of confusion and anger. Who was this anonymous jerk? I resented being threatened in such a manner; if nothing else, it wasnat sporting. I could do nothing in retaliation until I knew who he was. I didnat have his d.a.m.n negatives-of what? It was possible Ed Whitbred had them, or had them until Arnie was turned loose once again on an insufficiently leery society. There were other cameras in Farberville. There were plenty of cameras in the Kappa Theta Eta house, if the number of coy photographs was indicative.

I sat on the edge of my porch. If the prowler was also my caller~ he might have been searching the third floor of the sorority house for the mysterious negatives. Was he being blackmailed by one of the girls whoad gone home for the summer? The last thing I needed was another Kappa Theta Eta cluttering up my admittedly tenuous scenano.

Next door, Winkie came out onto the porch, holding an unhappy cat. She looked aimost comical in a fussy pink broad-brimmed hat that seemed to have settled on her head of its own accord and refused to leave. After carefully locking the door, she headed for the sidewalk.

aAny word from Debbie Anne?a I ca]led as I approached her I stopped out of reach of Katieas teeth, although I was in range of her maievolent gaze.

aNo, nothing at all. Itas been three days now, and I do hope the police will take her disappearance more seriously. Her mother has been calling me at ail hours of the day and night, and thereas nothing I can tell her Rebecca and Pippa are quite sure Debbie Anne doesnat have a boyfriend. I called those few girls who were her friends during the year. They could suggest nothing, and none of them has heard from her This is by far the most inconsiderate stunt sheas ever pulled. That girl will never be a Kappa.a aDo you have a copy of her cla.s.s schedule? I thought I might speak to her professors and see if any of them have any ideas.a I held my breath and smiled with the s.h.i.+ny expectancy of a rushee.

aI suppose I do, but itas inside and Katie has an appointment at the vetas office.a She hesitated, then said, aIall go get you a copy. It certainly canat hurt to speak to them, and if we donat find her soon, Iam going to lose my temper and be brusque with Mrs. Wray. You hold Katie while I go back inside.a The cat was thrust into my arms in a manner not unlike that Iad utilized with the camera. aDonat do this! Please!a I said, but Winkle was already on her way to the door, muttering about late-night calls and inconsiderate girls. It took the eat only a few seconds to realize what treachery had befallen her, and she let out a yowl of outrage that emphasized her shared ancestry with jungle cats. Less than a second later, she bit me on the hand so viciously that I instinctively flung her to the ground as I stumbled backward.

I gaped first at the blood welling from the jagged wound, and then at a flash of white as the cat vanished into the shrubbery. Blinking back tears, I fumbled in my purse for a tissue and tried unsuccessfully to stop the blood. The wound throbbed so sharply that I began to feel light-headed. I sank down on the lawn and cradled my hand, oblivious to my surroundings, and therefore was startled when Winkie said, aWhat happened? Whereas Katie? Why are you behaving so oddly?a I showed her the bite and grimly related the story. aAnd she ran that way,a I said, gesturing with my uninjured hand. I did not continue with a description of what I dearly hoped the animal would encounter on its escape route.

aThis is dreadful,a Winkie said. aWe must take action immediately, Claire.a aThe bleeding has stopped, and I donat think Iall need st.i.tches. I have some iodine at my-a aWe must find Katie,a she interrupted sternly. aHer appointment at the vet is in less than an hour. I was taking her there so that she can be rendered incapable of reproduction. An irresponsible individual knocked the screen off my window several days ago, and Katie spent the night outside the house. I donat intend to have kittens underfoot in that cramped apartment.a She went to the pertinent shrub and called, aHere, kitty kitty kitty. Come on, Katie; that woman wonat hurt you again. Come to Winkie.a I stood up, the tissue still pressed to my hand, and tried to stir up a trace of sympathy from her aShe bit me once before. I tried to tell you when you shoved her at me.a aThatas ridiculous. Katie doesnat bite.a She held out a piece of paper. aHereas Debbie Anneas cla.s.s schedule. I think Iad better go back inside and have a gla.s.s of wine. Being a housemother isnat easy by any means, but this is becoming more than I can bear. Eleanor will have to find someone else for the remainder of the summer term. The pressureas entirely too much for me.a She went into the house without so much as a glance at my bloodied tissue. Kappa Theta Eta housemothers were not, apparently, instructed in the gentle art of first aid.

After Iad doctored the wound as best I could, I set off toward the campus, fantasizing about a rustic cabin somewhere in the woods. No one sat beside me on the deck as the sun sank behind the mountains; I was alone with a gla.s.s of scotch and a plate of crackers and cheese. I amended it to freshly baked bread and expensive Brie. No one whined, complained, bit me, badgered me, scolded me, or, most of all, sent me into the arms of a tattooed motorcyclist while reclining with a member of the campus security force.

I went into the yellow brick building that housed the education department. Since it was summer school, Debbie Anne was taking only two cla.s.ses, and at that moment should have been in a cla.s.sroom being instructed in Reading Readiness Skills, a.k.a. EE1009.

aWhatever they are,a I growled, then accosted a perky young thing in jeans and asked where the room was. The door was ajar, and I hovered in the hall until I determined that Debbie Anne was not among the half-dozen girls numbly gazing at a blackboard as an elderiy woman droned at them.

The instructor of Developmental Psychology (EE1147) was not in his or her office, unless he or she was cowering behind a locked door A second perky young thing informed me that cla.s.ses would be out in ten minutes, and she didnat know when I might catch Professor Costandaza. She herself had taken the psych course from Professor Simpson because he was aan absolute hunka and it was all she could do not to alike literally seduce him right there on the desk, you know.a Fearing for the future of civilization, I read the notices on the bulletin board, gleaming tidbits about symposiums on A-V equipment, potluck dinners, and opportunities to study abroad for a zillion dollars. Eventually something buzzed and students drifted out of cla.s.srooms. I went to the original room. The woman was packing her briefcase, and was minimally cordial when I introduced myself and told her my proposed topic.

She consulted her watch, sighed, and said, aI have a faculty meeting in fifteen minutes. I heard about the Wray girl on the local news last night, and there was something in the newspaper Very sad business, that, but faculty meetings come right after death and taxes.a aI was hoping you could tell me about Debbie Anne. Everyone seems to have a strong opinion about her, but also a biased one.a aWhen I watched the news, I tried to remember what I could of her I had her last spring in a cla.s.s, and again this semester. She was shy and quiet, rarely contributing to the discussion, turning in ordinary, uninspired work.a She paused to think. aI do recall being surprised when she wore a sorority sweats.h.i.+rt to cla.s.s one day. Fewer and fewer of them major in education these days, but I used to have hordes of them in my cla.s.ses-to my dismay. Now, I understand, theyare all majoring in business. She didnat seem the sorority type.a aDid Debbie Anne ever cheat or lose her temper?a The woman picked up her briefcase. aNo one cheats in Reading Readiness Skills; itas much too easy. As for losing her temper, I donat know that she has one to lose Mrs. Malloy. Sheas just one of those drab, modestly intelligent, poorly prepared girls from a little town. If this hadnat happened, shead squeak by, graduate, and go teach in another little town in order to send us more poorly prepared girls.a I went outside and sat on a stone bench. For the first time in nearly three days, Iad made progress, albeit measurable in millimeters rather than leaps and bounds. Debbie Anne Wray was a soggy-nosed ninny, accepted into the sorority by an economic imperative and rejected by a social one. Jean Hall had forced her to do something illegal, and this had sent Debbie Anne into hiding. Someone else had gained access to Debbie Anneas car key and run Jean down in the alley.

There were a few minor unanswered questions, to be sure, along the lines of who and what and when and where and why and how, but I wasnat nearly as confused as Iad been earlier. Contemplating my next target, I stood up, smiled vaguely at a couple of students, and decided to go back to the Book Depot, where I could make lists in the amateur-sleuth tradition. I would be the sole champion of the cause-the innocence of Debbie Anne. The police detectives could sit and wait. I would take action, make brilliant deductions, identify the guilty, and rescue the innocent.

And this time, I told myself, Claire Malloy would not cringe from the limelight and allow the police to take all the credit. Iad grant interviews, appear on the evening news, pose for photographs in front of the Book Depot. If the mayor insisted on giving me some sort of award for my civic-minded behavior, Iad accept it with becoming modesty.

As I came around the corner of the library, I was practicing smiles rather than paying any attention whatsoever to the trickle of pedestrians. I thudded into someone, stumbled back, and looked up to offer an apology (with becoming modesty, of course). And found myself face to face with the man in the moon. I goggled at him; he goggled at me.

aYou!a I croaked.

He quit goggling and gave me a shove hard enough to send me across the sidewalk and into a very old, very hard tree trunk. My head hit first and then snapped forward, pain ripped along my shoulder, and all the breath swooshed out of my lungs. I fell to the ground, fighting to fend off swirls of blackness and to regain my breath.

aAre you okay?a asked a voice so close that I nearly screamed.

I opened my eyes. The boy squatting in front of me had dark hair and a lean, nearly cadaverous face. I finally found enough oxygen to say, aThe man in the moon-I mean, the man who knocked me down-did you see him?a aI saw someone go around the corner, but I didnat get a good look at him. Maybe youad better stay down for a few more minutes until everything stops spinning.a He looked over his shoulder at a huddle of students. aSomebody call the campus cops and tell aem itas an a.s.sault.a aNo,a I said, but as I tried to straighten up, the black blotches flooded my eyes and my ears reverberated as if Iad taken residence in the bell tower. . . or the belfry.

aJust lean back, maaam,a the boy said patronizingly, no doubt certain he knew what was best for an incapacitated octogenarian whoad identified her a.s.sailant as the man in the moon.