Giles thanked everyone for coming to the celebration. “April twenty-third,” he said, “is an important day for Shakespeare scholars. It’s the day we celebrate the life and the death of the author whose work is on exhibit downstairs. Regardless of the mysteries that remain concerning the author himself, the work he left behind has stood the test of time. His sonnets are still read, his plays still produced, and his life still celebrated, because audiences connect with his words even today. Scholars pass stories from one generation to the next. We are stewards of information and must do our jobs with care.”
He glanced at me. I was ready.
“I know Professor Prather will take good care to introduce our distinguished guests, who are sadly leaving today,” he said. “Please give her your full attention.”
I stood and walked to the podium, glad I’d worn my red heels. I didn’t have to adjust the microphone. “Thank you, Professor Giles, and thanks to all of you for coming.” Seated on the third bench, Lenny gave me a thumbs-up. In front of him were Mia and her roommates. Next to Mia was Jacob, and a few rows back was Denton. Sophie and Beamer stood at the double doors.
“Professor Giles said it best,” I continued. “We’re stewards of knowledge, and when it comes to Shakespeare, no one is more knowledgeable than Felix Lewis. He’s dedicated his life to the author’s work—studying at Oxford, writing books, mentoring new scholars.” I motioned to his understudy, Andy. “With his stellar reputation, it might be hard to understand why I thought he was capable of killing Tanner Sparks.” A murmur rippled through the room, and I moved closer to the microphone. “It was these very reasons that made me believe it was possible. He has dedicated his life to an author Tanner Sparks dismissed as a phony. Many of you were angry. Imagine being Felix Lewis.”
“Rubbish,” said Felix. “I was angry at Reed, here, for allowing it. He didn’t give the boy good advice.”
I ignored the interruption. “Andy, also, devoted a book to the great bard. With its release pending this fall, he had to dismiss Tanner’s scholarship as slipshod or suffer a worse fate himself: seeing his book poorly received.”
“My book’s already been well received,” huffed Andy. “Read the reviews!”
I quelled his fears with a wave of my hand. “It was possible they killed Tanner. They submitted sonnets, they argued with Tanner—Andy even studied with him as an undergrad. But they didn’t kill him. How do I know this?”
“Let me guess,” said Jane Lemort, seated in the front row. “You’re going to tell us.”
“The woman in the wig told me,” I said.
“I’ve read that!” said Kat, a student from my Crimes and Passions course last semester.
“You’re thinking of The Woman in the Window,” I whispered. “But let us continue. Several times in the course of the investigation, black hair has been mentioned or left behind. Andy himself noticed a woman with black hair—which is why she tried to eliminate him. Tanner, too, knew her identity. He tried to expose her at the symposium by pulling off her wig.”
“Who was she?” asked Mia.
“For a long time, I thought it was you.”
“What?” said Mia. “Why?”
I motioned to Alexander Schwartz, who was leaning against the wall. “It was Professor Schwartz who told me the person who’d left the skull in the bathroom had intimate knowledge of the theater. He or she was familiar with the tunnel that ran under the stage. You yourself mentioned working at the theater every afternoon, and I knew the killer and the woman were one in the same.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Mia. “I didn’t kill Tanner!”
“I know you didn’t,” I said. “I know Jacob and Denton didn’t either.” Jacob was slumped low in his chair, trying to look casual. Denton adjusted his glasses, interested in what I had to say. “While Jacob had access to and knowledge of the theater, he himself was a victim. I knew by his dismal performance Friday night he hadn’t left the flowers for himself.”
“Gee, thanks,” Jacob said.
“You’re welcome.” I nodded at Denton. “And while Mr. Smart is smart enough to get away with murder, he, too, was a victim. His acceptance into the summer research program was put on hold, which was enough for him to put away the de Vere theory for good. He took no further interest in it.”
“So then who?” said Claudia. Sitting next to Lenny, she was growing impatient.
“I was left with the girls down the street: Mia, Hailey, Alice, and Mackenzie.”
“Wait,” said Mia. “You said it wasn’t me.”
I shook my head. “You had motive to kill Tanner. Plus, you were closest to him. Poisoning him would have been easy for you. But you’re right. You didn’t do it. One of your friends wanted me to think you did, though.”
Mia leaned back from the group.
“I saw Tanner as he was leaving your house one day,” I continued. “He said ‘That girl is psycho.’ I assumed he meant you, but later I realized that couldn’t have been. You were working for Professor Schwartz that afternoon. So it must have been one of your roommates, the same one he tried to expose at the symposium.”
Mia blinked back tears, shaking her head. “No, they didn’t. They couldn’t have.”
“They could, and one did.” I ticked off the possibilities from my mental list. “Hailey is the strongest and the most familiar with the theater. Plus, she works at Bluff View, the restaurant where Andy was poisoned. Mackenzie dated Tanner and knew him better than the others. As a musician, she also had unlimited access to the theater. Alice was the youngest, but smartest, and had her own reasons for hating Tanner.”
“Which one was it?” said Mia.
I stepped to the side, directing everyone’s attention to the whiteboard. “See for yourself.” In black, all-capital letters, it read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHAKESPEARE!
“It’s the writing,” gasped Claudia. “The uppercase writing from the sonnet.”
“I was right,” said Thomas Cook, who was at Lenny’s other side.
“Correct and correct again,” I said. “Minutes before we began, I asked one of the girls to write the message on the board. She quickly obliged, revealing her identity as the sonnet writer with the stroke of her hurried hand.”
Slowly, like raindrops, the clapping began. It became stronger and stronger until everyone was staring at Alice, who was applauding me. She stood and tipped a pretend hat. Her hair might be a beautiful shade, but it was also very short, short enough to wear the wig and cover her scar.
“I think you should sit down,” I said.
“And not defend myself?” Alice shook her head. “You tricked me, Professor.”
“No, Alice, you tricked me.” I could hear the anger in my own voice. “At every turn. you left clues pointing to Mia: the bouquet, the skull, the wig. She was the victim. How could you do that to your friend?”
“I needed to teach her a lesson,” said Alice. “She wouldn’t listen to me. I told her that Tanner was abusive. One day he’d go too far, and she’d be left with a face like mine. What theater would take her then?”
“I knew that scar bothered you!” said Hailey. “That’s why I left the health services brochure on the table. I wanted you to talk to someone about it.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” said Alice. “It’s proof of what I’ve been through, a boot spur to the face.” She turned to Mia. “You should be grateful.”
“For your attempts to send me to jail?” said Mia.
“A jail cell is better than a casket, isn’t it?” said Alice. “That’s what happened to my mother. She was a funeral director. My dad made sure she got to try one out for herself.”
“That’s how you know so much about flowers,” I said.
“Yes, my mom knew the perfect flower for every occasion,” said Alice. “Hers was the most beautiful funeral of all, and she never got to see it. Isn’t that ironic, Professor Prather? I bet I used the term correctly. You’re not the only smart person in the English Department.”
“Yes, Alice, you’re very smart.” I knew what she wanted to hear, and I was about to tell her. “Share with me how you did it.”
Alice smiled at the compliment. “Hailey or Mackenzie might have done it.”
“No, they’re not nearly as clever as you,” I said, continuing with the charade. “This murder was a work of art.”
She let out a hiss of air. “I knew you’d think so, and I wanted to impress you. I hoped we’d talk about it in class next semester.”
“And we will,” I said. “But I need to know how. You’ve stumped me.”
She stared at me like I was the only person in the room, the crowd fading into the pale-green walls. The look sent me off-kilter, and I glanced at Lenny to steady myself before turning my attention back to Alice.
“I put the antifreeze in his bottle of soda after the performance,” explained Alice. “He drank it down in a few swigs. When he started getting sick, I knew it was working and followed him home. He only made it halfway across campus before he had to stop in the garden, which was open for Friday’s event. He passed out on the bench.”
It made sense now. No one carried him to the bench; he walked there himself.
“I wasn’t going to miss that opportunity,” said Alice. “So later, when I knew he was dead, I brought back the liquid and poured it in his ear. The disgusting pig had fallen over, and I had to touch him, but it was worth it. I knew you’d pick up on the scene from Hamlet right away.”
“Bravo,” I said. “A-plus work.”
“It would have been—if Andy hadn’t recognized me from the conference.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “When he told you about me at Felix’s keynote speech, I knew I had to act, but there wasn’t much time. I was rushed. I didn’t put enough antifreeze in his drinks.” She took her hands out of her pockets and pounded her fists into her thighs. “Stupid, stupid. I ruined all my plans.”
“Don’t blame yourself.” I tried to calm her down as Beamer approached with handcuffs. “It was the alcohol that lessened its efficacy. Besides, I knew it was you already.”
“You did?” Alice looked almost relieved.
“First, there was the sonnet, written in perfect iambic pentameter,” I said. “Not easily done outside the English Department. Then there were my missing keys. Who else but someone in the department would know my penchant for late-night walks? Finally, if Andy was poisoned at the English banquet, which I surmised, you were the only one on the guest list.” I shook my head. “I felt foolish for not thinking of that earlier.”
“What about the plant?” said Lenny. “Don’t forget that.”
“Right,” I said. “I also knew you purchased the plant. Your roommates are graduating; you’re not. They wouldn’t purchase a giant houseplant before moving. You did it for one reason: to cover up another purchase you made—a pot of pansies.”
She dug in her heels as Beamer put on the cuffs. Her sneakers squeaked on the floor as he tried to move her. “I wish you’d died there in your garage. If it wasn’t for that crazy neighbor of yours, you’d be dead right now, and I’d be free.”
A woman wearing pink lipstick stood up in the back row. “I’d mind my manners if I were you, missy. You’re the one in handcuffs.”
I squinted. “Mrs. Gunderson, is that you?”
“Of course it is, dear,” she said. “At my age, I don’t miss a chance for free cake.”