Chapter Four

Wednesday morning, Doro woke with a feeling of foreboding. Before she even opened her eyes, a dark shadow hovered over her. For several moments, she struggled to focus on its source. What was wrong? Something serious. Something disturbing. Then, she remembered, and foreboding became angst. Professor Corlon had been murdered, and she was among the suspects.

Doro turned over, buried her face in the pillow, and yanked the covers over her head. How she wished the clock could be rewound to the previous day—before she found the body. Corlon had vexed her, but the man didn’t deserve to be killed. No one did.

A rap at her apartment door cut off further rumination. Faint light permeated the room. As she lifted her head, Doro noted the time: seven-thirty. At this hour, only another resident would visit, probably Aggie. Maybe she had some new insight into the crime and couldn’t wait until their scheduled meeting. Although Doro considered feigning sleep, she knew her friend would not give up easily. Besides, they needed to move forward with their investigation. The sooner the killer was caught, the sooner innocent suspects like Doro would be in the clear.

After rolling out of bed and donning her wool robe, she padded to the door, where more knocking had ensued. She took a glimpse in the wall mirror and sighed. Her brunette hair normally fell neatly into a bob, but now it stuck out in every direction. If she had taken a hand mixer to it, Doro could not have gotten every lock less tidy, but Aggie had seen Doro looking almost this disheveled. Not that her friend would care, so Doro opened the door only to see Officer Mallow in the hall. “Men are not allowed in this building,” were the first words out of her mouth.

His lean cheeks colored. “The president gave me permission to come in.” After a quick perusal of her attire, he focused on Doro’s face. “He said you’d be up and dressed long before now. He also gave me keys to all campus buildings. When I tried buzzing from the lobby and didn’t get an answer, I came up.”

“The buzzers aren’t working,” she shot back, in case he thought she’d been ignoring the summons. “They haven’t been for over two weeks.” Another repair pushed to the bottom of the list by Winwood, but Doro withheld that observation.

“I see.” Mallow cleared his throat as he shifted from one foot to the other. “I saw a reception room downstairs, so I’ll go there now. You can get ready and meet me.” He avoided looking at her as he spoke.

Although the man was clearly uncomfortable, Doro felt no sympathy for him. The previous day, he had been officious and accusatory. Undoubtedly, he planned to take up where he’d left off. “How long will the interrogation take today?”

“I only have a few questions. I-uh-I…” His voice trailed off. Mallow cleared his throat and glanced back at Doro. “Would you take a little time to answer them?” His tone was restrained.

Saying no wasn’t an option, so Doro nodded. Besides, he sounded less overbearing at the moment. But not a lot less. “I’ll be there shortly.” Then, she saw her leather bag slung over his shoulder. “Can I have my belongings now?”

The color in his face deepened. “Sure.” He thrust it toward her.

“Thank you.” Without waiting for a reply, she shut the door in his face. Aggravated by the man and wary about more accusations, she dawdled. Making the bed, performing her ablutions, straightening her hair, and choosing her clothes took a full half-hour. Even then, Doro did not rush to the reception room. Let him wait.

When she got downstairs, the room was empty, save for the officer sitting in a leather wing chair—one of four grouped around the massive brick fireplace—at the far end. His profile was clearly visible, but he seemed to be intent on the flickering flames. Evidently, he had started a fire, because no one else was up and about.

If he was aware of her arrival, Mallow gave no sign. After a deep breath to calm her nerves, Doro crossed the forty feet to where he sat. He didn’t look at her or speak, so she sat across from him and waited. When he still failed to respond, Doro glanced his way. Surprise struck her. He was dozing. For several moments, she gazed at his face. His ebony lashes rested against the purple smudges beneath his eyes. Had he not slept at all? Surely, he hadn’t been out questioning local folks overnight. When he suddenly awoke, more evidence of a wakeful night was clear—red-rimmed and bloodshot eyes looked back at her. She knew as soon as he was fully awake, because pink tinged his face.

“Sorry. I nodded off, I guess.” As Mallow shifted to sit up straight, he turned to look at the hearth.

Doro sensed he was regrouping, so she left him to it for a moment. “I slept later than usual myself.” When the words were out, she chastised herself. He was a lawman, and she was a suspect. Injecting pleasantries into their exchange wouldn’t change that. But his embarrassment about being caught snoozing earned a modicum of understanding.

Mallow ran one hand over his face before looking at her again. “I wish I’d slept a little,” he admitted, his voice rough, “but I didn’t get a single wink.”

Anxiety again hit her. “Working on the professor’s murder?” Was that why he had sought her out this morning? To say she was at the top of his suspect list? Or worse, his only suspect.

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t officially left my other job yet. Last night, we raided a speakeasy in downtown Toledo. We hit the place after midnight. It was filled, so we ended up arresting over a hundred people. Of course, some ran out the side doors. I was one of the coppers who got to chase them down.” His voice lacked enthusiasm and energy.

The revelations surprised her. It was like they were having a common conversation. Because that felt better than interrogation, Doro followed up with a pertinent question. “Did you catch them?”

A rueful smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Not all of them, but we usually don’t if there’s a sizeable crowd. We got the owners, which is important.”

“So, the place is closed down,” she said.

“It is, but two more will open in its stead.” Weariness and frustration echoed in his voice. “It’s a never-ending cycle, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Of course not,” she murmured. Back to business. “I know nothing more than I told you yesterday, Officer. I’m aware you don’t believe me, but that’s the truth.”

Something flashed in his gaze before he spoke. “I believe you, but I can’t go on gut feelings. I need corroboration. Before I left campus yesterday, I got it. That’s one thing I wanted to say this morning. Along with asking some new questions.” He extracted paper and pencil from his jacket pocket.

“Dare I ask what confirmation you got?”

A full-fledged grin lit his face. “Plenty enough to make me feel bad for grilling you. President Winwood saying he saw you at seven-thirty was already an issue. But someone—even you—could’ve killed the professor earlier, gone home, waited a bit, and headed back. Later, I talked to Corlon’s downstairs neighbor, who saw him leave home before seven o’clock. It’s a five-minute walk to campus from there. That puts his arrival around ten before the top of the hour, which tightened your timeframe. When I came in this building late yesterday, two ladies who live on your floor were over there eating supper.” He jerked a thumb at the table in the far corner. “They said you’re quiet, but your door always squeaks loudly, so the lady across from you hears it opening and closing. She was up and sitting in her parlor early yesterday morning. She didn’t hear you leave until almost seven-thirty. The other woman was sitting at her window from seven until well after you left the building. All that eliminates you.”

Doro mulled the information over. “My door is noisy, but I haven’t been able to get the problem fixed. A janitor used to be assigned to our building two days a week. Now, he comes once a month.” Another reduction, courtesy of President Winwood.

He shrugged. “In any case, I have plenty to clear you.”

Doro wanted complete certainty. “I’m no longer under scrutiny?”

“You’ve dropped off the list.”

Doro slumped back in the chair with relief. “I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

His lips twitched. “Good, because I need assistance. Professor Corlon clashed with a few people, as you already know.”

“I wasn’t privy to all the encounters,” Doro said, “but Michaw is a small college in a small town. Gossip travels far and fast. Others will tell you the same.”

“But you grew up here and spent time on campus all your life. Plus, you’re highly involved in campus activities. Quite a few people mentioned that.”

Although the officer didn’t look or sound critical, his true opinion remained murky. “My father was a Michaw professor, and he took part in many campus activities. My mother did, too. They thought it was important to be part of the school’s community. As do I.”

“I’ve heard as much from a few people.” He tapped his pencil against the notepad. “Anyhow, folks said you have close connections with students, staff, and faculty. The constable and I spoke with some yesterday. Before the raid last night, I had a little time to go over my notes. This morning, I met with Lammers, so we could prioritize our work and arrange more interviews.”

“You have a new list of suspects?” Doro wondered if the officer’s list would be the same as the one compiled by Aggie and herself. Probably not. After all, Mallow and Wade were lawmen. While Constable Lammers was acquainted with folks on campus, he did not know them as well as the two women.

“We went over possibilities and developed one with updated details. It’s tentative and short, but I’m hoping you can offer some insight.”

“I’ll try.” And maybe learn something, as well.

“That’s all I ask.” Mallow flipped open the notepad. “We heard about Professor Corlon and Coach Ayers arguing more than once. I’m wondering if the issue is festering.”

“They seldom speak to one another, and Coach keeps his players out of Corlon’s classes now. That’s what started the trouble between them last year. A couple failed and lost their scholarships.”

“So, I’ve heard.”

His level gaze had Doro shifting restlessly in her chair. What else had Mallow heard? Probably a lot. Unable to form a quick response, she bowed her head and studied her clasped hands. “You have their names then.”

“I do. One left school and moved to Iowa, so he’s out as a suspect. However, Pierce Dudley is still here, and he is Miss Tenseng’s beau. Him losing his scholarship gives her two reasons to dislike Professor Corlon.”

With reluctance, Doro again looked at the officer. Some of the starch was gone, but he still seemed stiff. “Kitty isn’t a killer.”

“That remains to be seen, since we haven’t found her or young Dudley and, as far as motive, he’s got two himself. His loss of scholarship and Corlon picking on Miss Tenseng.”

The phrase picking on was interesting, but Doro didn’t ask if Mallow was sympathetic to Kitty and Pierce. Even if he was, the officer was unlikely to let sentiment sway him. Nor should he. What bothered Doro most was the young couple’s absence. “Pierce lives in a boardinghouse just off campus.”

“As you said yesterday. Constable Lammers and I went over there last evening before I got called to my other job. I returned this morning. The landlady hasn’t seen Pierce since Monday evening. He didn’t show up for breakfast yesterday morning, which is highly unusual. According to her, the kid has a hollow leg and gobbles up whatever she puts in front of him. Missing a meal is something he’s never done before. Now, he missed three yesterday and one this morning. No one has seen Miss Tenseng during the same time period.”

Doro cleared her throat. “Did his landlady say if he got a telephone call? Perhaps, either he or Kitty had a family emergency. Pierce owns an automobile, so they could’ve left town in a hurry without telling anyone.”

“Or maybe without wanting to tell anyone,” Mallow pointed out.

Because that seemed all too likely, Doro sidestepped a direct response. “I’m sure they’ll contact someone on campus soon.”

“We’ll see.” Mallow’s expression could only be construed as skeptical. “Dudley was angry over losing his scholarship, but Coach Ayers was, as well. What’s your opinion of how angry?”

Clearly, Mallow had gathered many details. Denying what others had said would be foolish, but how should she respond? Briefly, she considered what had occurred the previous year. “Coach Ayers was furious. He’d already lost one player due to failing Corlon’s class last fall. That boy and Pierce were two of his best players. With a failing grade, Pierce also lost his scholarship, and he isn’t eligible to play this year. His senior year. What’s really wrong is that Pierce is an excellent student. He’s gotten mostly As with only a few Bs. And just one failing grade.”

“From Corlon.”

Doro nodded. “Both boys got low scores on papers. Grading them is subjective, unlike scoring a test. They did fine on Corlon’s exams. Just not the essays, which count for most of the grades.”

Mallow frowned. “Why would the man fail students who were doing well? It makes no sense.”

“Some people on campus think President Winwood and his group plan to do away with intercollegiate athletics.”

“Is there a basis in fact for the gossip? Or is it speculation?”

Doro rested her hands on the chair arms. “The basketball team won the league championship several years in a row. Supporters and alumni expect a winning team. Losing a star player mid-season put them in second place for the first time in nearly a decade.” Her response did not completely answer his query, but some background details were important. At least to Doro, they were.

“And without Dudley, they aren’t apt to win this coming season,” Mallow observed.

“Very true, so Coach Ayers was upset. His anger simmered over the summer, and the rumors haven’t helped.”

“I haven’t spoken with the coach, since he wasn’t on campus yesterday.” Mallow ran one hand over his face. “Did you ever hear Dudley threaten the professor?”

“Never. All Pierce said to me was how unfair Corlon was to athletes and coeds. That was last spring right after the semester ended.” Doro didn’t add her own view—that Corlon singled out those two groups because they didn’t fit into how the Fearsome Foursome envisioned the new Michaw College.

“And you agreed?”

She clasped her hands again. “Yes, but I didn’t say so, because that might’ve made matters worse. I told Pierce we all run into unpleasant people and unfair situations. Dealing with them is part of being an adult.”

Mallow nodded. “A valid observation and sound advice. How did he react?”

“He promised to let it go. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”

“Will him failing a course make any difference in the future?” the officer asked.

“Perhaps, since Pierce wants to go to law school. Another few years of school will be costly, so he’ll need to work. Being at a law firm would be ideal, and the attorneys will look at grades. He may have to teach for a while instead.”

“He was lucky to have a scholarship for college, even for a short time.”

The officer had garnered plenty of details, but it was the first part of his sentence that intrigued Doro. Few lawmen had degrees or wanted them, but Mallow had previously mentioned his lack of a college education. Had he wanted to attend a university? The question remained in her head, because being too personal wasn’t wise. While he had eliminated her as the killer, Mallow was working, not socializing. “The school should offer more scholarships,” Doro said. “President Adams had planned to do so, but Winwood ended the initiative.”

The officer didn’t react to her statement. Instead, he posed a query. “What do you know about Coach Ayers?”

“He came to Michaw four years ago. He taught and coached at a high school before then. We exchange only passing pleasantries. It’s no secret that Ayers was unhappy with two of his players losing eligibility.”

He laid his pencil down and rolled it over the notepad. “If sports are eliminated, he’ll lose his job. Others told me about his family. He supports his wife, her mother, and five children. I doubt if his salary is high, but he lives in college housing, doesn’t he?”

Doro nodded. “There’s a big old farmhouse on the southern edge of campus. The college bought it years ago, along with the acreage. It was divided into two residences—one for the football coach and one for the basketball coach.”

Mallow jotted down more notes. “I hadn’t heard that, but we stuck mostly with asking people about basic information yesterday. We followed up on a few leads before I had to leave town. For one, Lammers and I talked to the football coach. He’s a bachelor, so no dependents to support. Also, he’s planning to retire at the end of the current season. He’s not a fan of Corlon, but he wasn’t upset, either. Yesterday morning, he met with his assistant coaches at the diner. Plenty of alibi witnesses to that.”

“Good. He’s been coaching at Michaw for almost three decades. I’ll be sorry for him to leave, but he deserves to enjoy more free time.” Since the new officer sounded more open, Doro posed a question in semi-statement form. “You and Constable Lammers are working together.”

Several seconds of silence ensued before he shrugged. “He’s a good man, and I was wrong to dismiss him as inexperienced.”

The concession made Doro smile. “I’m glad you realize that.”

For a long moment, he studied her face. “Not every small-town constable is equipped to do the job properly.”

“I’m sure,” she agreed but didn’t point out the same would be true in big cities. Or any place in any job. Some people were incompetent, and others were careless. Instead of voicing those observations, Doro delved for more about Mallow. “Since you haven’t officially left the Prohibition Bureau, you must still have authority to question people and make arrests.”

“I have authority, but not particularly due to that,” Mallow replied. “I’ve been given status as a deputy constable of sorts. Having a campus security officer is new at this point, but the town council and mayor are happy to have another lawman around.”

The news reasserted Doro’s uncertainty about Mallow. “The whole job seems unusual to me. How many universities employ lawmen?”

He frowned. “I don’t know numbers. Not a lot yet, and most are retired coppers. In the current situation, it’ll be good. Constable Lammers has to fulfill his town duties, which makes it hard for him to conduct interviews, gather evidence, and all.”

His mention of evidence jogged Doro’s memory. “Were you able to get the fingerprinting kit?”

“Yep. Since I was called into work last night, I picked it up instead of having a deputy drive out here. I already got prints off the drawer and card catalogue. One set was partial, but two others looked sharp. A good analyst should be able to make matches, since there weren’t as many prints as I figured.”

The final phrase gave Doro pause. “No one told you about the library undergoing a thorough cleaning Monday night.”

Confusion clouded Mallow’s gray gaze. “How thorough?”

“The janitors dusted and wiped all the tables, counters, and card catalogues. Some places, they waxed, as well.”

Mallow put the heel of one hand to his forehead. “They’re thorough in their cleaning?”

“Very thorough. The two of them came early, while I was still working, so I saw a lot of their efforts.”

After jotting down a few notes, Mallow leaned back in his chair. “That’s helpful. I won’t have to get fingerprints from dozens of people, which I feared needing to do. And the scarcity of prints made me wonder if the killer cleaned the surfaces or wore gloves.”

His obvious relief led to another question from Doro. “How will you get prints to match? Ask everyone who’s on your list to give them? Or make them do it?”

“I’d rather not force folks to provide fingerprints until I have more solid evidence,” Mallow replied. “As you know, there’s a long list of people with a grudge against Professor Corlon. I need to sort out the ones with a profound motive from those who simply didn’t like him or his policies. To that end, I’d like to find out more about Stanley Gibling. He’s been stepping out with your friend, Miss Darwine.”

Doro nodded before saying, “They were for a couple of years, but he wanted to take a break last spring. They haven’t gone back to courting since then.” She withheld her feelings about Stanley’s treatment of Aggie.

“Several folks said Gibling’s run-ins with Professor Corlon stemmed from denial of tenure.”

“It hasn’t actually happened yet,” Doro put in before halting. “The final decision on his tenure won’t be until next month.”

“Gibling said as much, but he acted like it was a done deal. He seemed furious about it.”

“Furious is a strong word.” Not that it didn’t fit Stanley’s past reactions. Had he been foolish enough to let Officer Mallow see the depth of his ire? Her stomach knotted.

“According to President Winwood, it’s accurate.”

“You spoke with Stanley. Did he seem full of rage to you?”

A half-shrug lifted one of Mallow’s shoulders. “He’s a smart man. Too smart to let me see if he wanted revenge.”

That answered one of Doro’s questions. At least Stanley hadn’t lost his composure with Mallow. While she disliked him dropping her friend, Doro didn’t think he was a killer. “Any professor who’s denied tenure would be upset, especially when the refusal is personal. Others can, and probably have, told you more about the situation. From what Stanley revealed to Agatha and me, he was singled out for criticism and mistakes that others made, too. He believes his support of females on campus led to Corlon being against him. And Winwood.”

“Women were first admitted in 1917, eleven years ago. That’s a long tradition to overturn.”

His knowledge of the school’s history impressed her. “It is. President Adams, who retired last year, was supportive. Many other professors were, too.” Doro’s father had been one of them, but she withheld the personal detail. She didn’t comment on upending a policy dating back more than ten years, either. Let Mallow get more information from others. At the moment, they were dealing well with one another. She wanted the camaraderie to continue, so she could stay up-to-date on the case. “About two dozen entered that year. Numbers have increased each term since then.”

“How many coeds are there in all?”

“One hundred and one, so they’re about a third of the student body.”

“Does the entire group attend the YWV meetings?”

“We have thirty to forty coeds dedicated to our mission. We have another couple dozen who attend sporadically. Only a handful aren’t interested at all.” Or they were afraid to show enthusiasm for fear of upsetting their parents or some male faculty. But Doro kept the suppositions to herself. Mallow remained an unknown quantity. While he wasn’t as stiff and pompous as the previous day, he might agree with Winwood and his cronies, or be pressured by them to accuse one of their detractors. In any case, Doro planned to proceed with caution. As the old saying went: Discretion is the better part of valor. “Why are you asking about the young women? As you already pointed out, others clashed with the professor.”

With one hand, Mallow rubbed his neck. “I’m not targeting them or anyone. I just want to be as thorough as possible. As the faculty advisor, you know the members best. Kitty Tenseng is still at large, but I wondered if there were others with grudges against the professor.”

Doro did not wish to argue about Kitty holding a grudge, so she said, “None of the girls would follow Corlon and hit him with a card catalogue drawer. Few are strong enough to do damage, either.” Why was he digging into this area again? Had someone targeted the group during an interview? As soon as Mallow was on his way, she planned to talk with Aggie. They not only needed to see Mrs. Jones, they should stop by the constable’s office and dig into what the two lawmen had learned. Lammers was more apt to share knowledge than the man currently across from Doro. Not that he hadn’t divulged bits and pieces. But scraps weren’t enough to crack the case.

“Duly noted.” He flipped his notepad shut. “I haven’t been here long enough to get a handle on things. I’ll keep my ear to the ground, though.”

A long moment of silence passed before Doro responded. “Campus gossip isn’t always accurate, Officer Mallow. You’ll discover as much when you’re here longer.”

Some indefinable emotion darkened his gaze, but it passed quickly. “I’m sure I will.”

“Do you have other questions?” Doro asked.

“Not now.” He tucked his pad and pencil into his jacket pocket before standing up. “I appreciate your help.” He hesitated before continuing. “Please keep a low profile while we investigate. With a killer on the loose, I don’t want anyone playing armchair detective. Good day.”

His order aggravated her, as did his use of the term armchair detective. Since he quickly strode off, Doro didn’t respond. Instead, she left the reception room as soon as he was out of sight and went straight to her friend’s apartment, where she found Aggie still in her robe and nightgown. Her friend had yet to adopt pajamas as her nightwear. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, you didn’t.” Aggie swung the door wide and gestured toward the chairs by the fireplace. “I was puttering with a poem, because I thought you might sleep later than planned.”

After sitting down, Doro grimaced. “I might’ve still been dozing, but Officer Mallow woke me by knocking on my door.”

Aggie’s auburn brows shot up. “How did he get inside?”

“As the campus security officer, he has keys to all the buildings. Since our buzzers aren’t working, he came up.”

“That had to be a surprise.” Aggie flopped into the chair across from Doro.

“It was. I figured you or another resident was knocking, so I went to the door in my pajamas and robe.”

Aggie grinned. “How did Officer Mallow react?”

Seeing no humor in the situation, Doro pursed her lips. “He said he’d meet me downstairs and hurried off.”

“You thought he was detached and stiff yesterday. Perhaps, he’s shy instead.”

“Piffle. Besides, I don’t care what he is, as long as he doesn’t help Winwood and his crew railroad an innocent person.”

The amusement drained from Aggie’s features. “You aren’t usually so quick to judge people. Why are you suspicious about Officer Mallow’s motives? Because Winwood and his three pals were on the hiring committee?”

Guilt swept through Doro. “Probably so, but doesn’t the Fearsome Foursome selecting Mallow give you pause?”

A chuckle left Aggie. “You didn’t refer to them that way with him, did you?”

Doro shook her head. “Of course not. He’s an unknown quantity, so I’m careful in what I say.” When Aggie opened her mouth, Doro put a hand up. “I know. I’m not usually so judgmental or suspicious. But we’re dealing with a murder investigation.”

“As is he,” Aggie pointed out. “I’m guessing he wants to catch the right person. I’m sure Constable Lammers does.”

“Good points.” Lammers would do the right thing. Maybe Mallow would, too. Doro hoped so.

“You’re upset because Mallow has you on his suspect list. However, that won’t last long.”

Once again, her friend made a valid statement. “It hasn’t lasted. I’m already off.” She shared the officer’s observations about her alibi and corroborating witnesses.

“Your noisy door is a good thing,” Aggie said with a grin. “I don’t suppose he named his current list.”

“Not in so many words, but he mentioned Kitty, Pierce, Stanley, and Coach Ayers. He knows everything we do and more.” After she finished going over what she and Mallow had discussed, Doro offered her new plan. “Let’s talk to Constable Lammers after we see Mrs. Jones. He’ll surely share more than Officer Mallow did.”

“Probably, but I’m concerned about Kitty and Pierce.” Concern darkened Aggie’s gaze. “Where could they be? It isn’t like her to simply leave town and not tell someone.”

“It has to be an emergency. They might’ve left before Corlon was killed.” Doro wanted that to be the case.

“Perhaps,” Aggie agreed, but her tone was tentative. “When we’re in town, we might find someone who saw them leave late Monday night or early yesterday morning, someone who knows why. I’m sure you’re right about an emergency coming up.”

“We should get going. The sooner we gather clues, the better.” At least Doro hoped any extra details would clear Kitty and Pierce. And Stanley. Not that she wanted Coach Ayers to be the killer, either, but someone had done it. And that someone was most likely a person known to her, maybe well-known and liked. The thought did nothing to lift her spirits.

An hour later, Doro and Aggie were on the front porch of the Jones house. The compact cottage, set on a side street, was only two blocks from campus. A few late-blooming roses climbed the trellis at one end of the porch, while a colorful array of wet leaves covered the tiny front lawn and walkway.

When Mrs. Jones answered the door, she smiled and ushered the young women inside. “Sorry, the boy who rakes for me didn’t come yesterday due to the rain. He’s in school now, but he’ll be here later. I hope you girls didn’t get your feet soaked in all those wet leaves.”

“We’re fine,” Doro assured her. “We should take our shoes off, so we don’t get your floors dirty. That’s if you don’t mind us coming in for a while.”

“Of course not,” the older woman said. “I’m happy to have company. I baked biscuits, and I surely won’t put a dent in them. Why don’t I get a plate and bring coffee? It’s fresh brewed.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Aggie replied. “Our kitchenettes are too small for much baking.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mrs. Jones said. “I’d be hard-pressed to cook in one. Go into the parlor. Doro knows the way.”

Doro preceded her friend into the comfortable room. As a child, she and her parents had often visited Professor and Mrs. Jones. “I’ve always loved this house,” she said, after sitting in one of the fireside chairs.

Aggie sat across from her and looked around the room. “I want to have a place like it someday. It’s pretty and homey.” A wistful note was in her voice.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Jones said as she entered the room.

Doro hurried to take the tray and put it on the low table in the middle of the seating arrangement. “This looks wonderful. I didn’t take time to eat this morning.”

After pouring coffee and handing a cup and saucer to each of her guests, Mrs. Jones took one for herself. “You need more than this. I could cook ham and eggs. It wouldn’t take long.”

Both young women demurred. “This is perfect,” Doro said. “We wanted to chat with you.”

The older woman perched on the loveseat with her own coffee and biscuit. “About yesterday morning?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind,” Doro replied.

“Of course not. I’m sure you won’t ask anything Officer Mallow didn’t already,” Mrs. Jones replied.

Before speaking again, Doro exchanged a long look with Aggie. “He surely didn’t accuse you.”

A chuckle left the older woman. “Not exactly. Naturally, he asked if I saw anything unusual on my way to work. He already knew I was there earlier than normal to help President Winwood prepare for his meeting. It’s been delayed now, but he was planning to work all day yesterday. Anyhow, my typical path takes me right by the library, but I got a ride from my next-door neighbor because of the heavy rain. He dropped me off behind College Hall, so I didn’t see anyone.”

“What time did you arrive?” Doro asked.

“A few minutes after seven, maybe a little later,” their hostess replied.

“How did you get into the building?” Aggie posed the question.

“President Winwood unlocked the outside door. You know, the one closest to the offices,” Mrs. Jones said. “He always does when he wants me to come early. Since he likes to take a daily jaunt around campus, he does it then.”

After another swig of coffee, Doro considered when she had seen the man. “He was already there?”

The older woman shook her head. “I didn’t see him when I arrived. Later, he told me about losing his pocket watch on his way to school. The chain broke when he pulled it out to check the time. Anyhow, he retraced his steps to find it. The timepiece is a family heirloom.”

“I saw him near the front of College Hall shortly before the clock chimed seven-thirty,” Doro observed.

“He passed that way earlier, I’m sure. In any case, he went back and found his watch,” Mrs. Jones said.

The explanation made sense to Doro, who continued with her queries. “You didn’t see Pierce Dudley or Kitty Tenseng late Monday night or early yesterday, did you?”

Mrs. Jones shook her head. “No. Why do you ask?” She glanced from Doro to Aggie.

Doro nodded to her friend, and Aggie made the response. “Officer Mallow can’t find them, and he wants to interview both.”

Dismay darkened Mrs. Jones’s eyes. “I don’t need to ask why. Kitty and Pierce have plenty of reason to dislike Professor Corlon, but I can’t believe either would harm the man. Or anyone else.”

“We don’t believe it, either,” Doro supplied. “One of them must’ve had an emergency.”

“Isn’t her family in Toledo?” Mrs. Jones asked.

“Her parents are. They own Tenseng Grocery Store, which is near downtown. When we get back to Wheaton Hall, I’ll place a call,” Doro said.

“You’d have to wait by the telephone in the main hall. Why not try from here? Perhaps, our operator will connect you quickly. You know where the little nook is, don’t you?” Mrs. Jones backed her invitation with a smile.

“I do, and it’s kind of you to offer,” Doro said.

“Nonsense. It’s no trouble.”

With that, Doro headed to the main hall where a telephone sat in an arched wall recess. She picked up the candlestick base, lifted the earpiece, and wound the crank. In moments, the local operator came on the line. After being assured the woman would ring back as soon as the call connected, Doro returned to the parlor. “It’ll be a few minutes.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to know about my interview with Officer Mallow and Constable Lammers?” Mrs. Jones maintained a pleasant expression as she spoke.

“I don’t suppose Mallow mentioned the suspects?” Doro asked.

“He posed questions about various people, so I suppose they’re being scrutinized.” Mrs. Jones laid her cup and saucer down. “He didn’t mention Kitty and Pierce, but I was one of the first interviewed. He brought up Stanley Gibling. I know he and Professor Corlon had more than one heated exchange, because three happened in President Winwood’s office. Their voices were loud enough for me to hear every word.”

“I had to admit hearing a similar confrontation between Stanley and Corlon in the English department,” Aggie said in a somber voice.

“I couldn’t deny knowing about Stanley’s disgust with Corlon, either,” Doro added. “Or about Coach Ayers clashing with Professor Corlon.”

Mrs. Jones frowned. “Both Coach Ayers and Professor Gibling have been to the office to talk with President Winwood on several occasions. Not together, of course. I’m afraid neither one got far with their issues.” She rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t help but hear the exchanges. Sometimes, only words here and there, but loud and angry voices were always clear.”

“I can imagine,” Doro murmured. “I’m sorry you have to be exposed to the arguing.”

A barely audible sigh escaped the older woman. “Working for President Winwood is different from being the secretary to President Adams.”

“I’m sure it is,” Aggie quickly agreed. “I miss President Adams.”

“Don’t we all?” Doro tacked on.

“I probably shouldn’t say so, but I do, as well.” Anything else Mrs. Jones might have said was cut off by the telephone ringing.

“Maybe it’s Kitty.” Doro darted out of the room without waiting for replies. After snatching up the telephone, she anticipated a response. Dismay filled her as she listened to the local operator’s explanation, but Doro waited for the connection and asked several questions of the person who answered. After hanging up, she went back to the parlor.

“You don’t look relieved,” Aggie observed.

Doro again perched on the chair. “Our operator got through to the store clerk at home, and I spoke with him. He said Mr. and Mrs. Tenseng are away, but he wasn’t sure where or why. He got a message early yesterday to put a closed sign in the window. They won’t be back until Friday. No details, though.”

Mrs. Jones put both hands to her face. “Oh, dear. There must be an emergency.”

“Probably so. We’ll check with Pierce’s landlady about any telephone calls,” Doro said. “I’ll ask our local operator, too. Early calls go through her, not the campus operator.”

“One of them will have information,” Mrs. Jones said.

Doro got up. “We should be on our way, so we can head to the boardinghouse. After we talk with Pierce’s landlady, we’ll see Constable Lammers. He might’ve spoken with her already, since she is his aunt.”

“You have a full morning,” Mrs. Jones observed. “If I can be of assistance, let me know.”