Chapter Ten

After Pottiger and Mallow said their farewells, Doro put the vehicle into gear and headed away from the curb. How she wished some puddles from Tuesday’s rain remained. Splashing the two administrators appealed to her far more than was sensible.

They hadn’t gone a block when Mallow’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “You look rather miffed. Any particular reason?”

In order to quell her annoyance. Doro inhaled deeply. “I thought you believed Coach Ayers’ alibi, which seems adequate to me.”

“I do, which is why I didn’t ask him to be fingerprinted. As far as what I said to Winwood, that was to pacify him.”

The response satisfied Doro, so she asked for clarification of his suspect list. “What fingerprints do you want?”

“Professor Gibling’s, and I’ll get prints from Pierce and Kitty this afternoon.” He paused for a heartbeat. “I need them from Winwood and Pottiger. The pair seem very close, which makes me wonder if one wouldn’t cover up for the other. If other evidence points toward Ayers, we can circle back to him.”

“You can ask Pierce and Kitty outright, because they’ll feel pressured to cooperate,” Doro said.

“I will, but I’m not so sure about Stanley Gibling. Finding his cufflink bothers me,” Mallow observed.

The clue deeply troubled Doro, who hadn’t shared the news with Aggie. Her best friend seemed upset by her former suitor’s possible involvement in the crime. If he was the killer, Aggie would have to face it. They both would. “Me, too. What about Winwood and Pottiger? They won’t want to provide prints.”

“True. Mrs. Jones has been cooperative. Maybe she can identify places in the office that Winwood regularly touches. Same with Pottiger.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to help again.”

“We’ll need some luck, because the prints need to be clear for a solid match to be made. Not all the ones from the drawer are as full and precise as I’d like, but an expert should be able to do something with them.” Mallow folded his arms across his chest.

Relief flooded Doro. Along with it came embarrassment, since she had not given Mallow nearly enough credit. “You can tell something from the fingerprints, can’t you?”

“Wade and I will look at them, but we aren’t experts.”

“Where are you storing the prints you already took?” Doro asked.

“There’s a lockbox at the constable’s office, so they’re safe and secure.”

Before Doro formed another comment, the Jones home came into view and she pulled to the curb. “Here we are.”

“Let’s take care in how we ask more questions,” Mallow said. “I don’t want to taint her recollections or evoke any bias. Besides, if she stops to really think back, she could have a breakthrough. That happens during investigations.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “And not only in books.”

“Nice to know.” Doro climbed out of the driver’s side and met him at the front gate, which he held open. She murmured her thanks before leading the way to the front porch.

Mrs. Jones, an apron over her housedress, answered almost immediately after Doro’s knock. A smile curved her full mouth. “What a lovely surprise. Come in, come in.”

“I hope we’re not interrupting,” Mallow said. “You look busy.”

“Cooking and baking while I have extra time. I’m used to being at work every day, so not being busy is an oddity. I thought I’d make a few meals for Mrs. Lammers’ boarders. With her laid up in the hospital, they’re fending for themselves. Poor boys. Her younger sister has enough to do already, although she’s helping as she can.” Mrs. Jones gestured to the back of the house. “If you don’t mind sitting in the kitchen, I could watch the stove.”

“Of course not,” Doro assured her. Mallow readily agreed and, within moments, the pair was seated at a battered oak table in the center of a large, bright kitchen. “You made your wonderful cinnamon rolls.” Doro sniffed appreciatively.

“They were always your favorite, as a little girl. And an older girl.” Their hostess put several on a platter, which she laid in the middle of the table. “How about coffee to go with them? I just made a fresh pot.”

“Please don’t go to any trouble,” Mallow said.

“No trouble,” the woman said. After pouring three cups and taking a seat at the table herself, Mrs. Jones glanced at the cane leaning against the table. “You didn’t have that yesterday, Officer.”

As Doro studied his face, she wondered if he would be honest. Clearly, he disliked people fretting over him.

“No, ma’am, I didn’t. I got called into my other job last night, and we ran into some trouble.” He offered a rueful smile. “Some folks don’t want to get arrested.”

She clucked her tongue. “I won’t ask exactly what happened, but I hope Doro is making sure you take care of yourself.”

When both Mrs. Jones and Officer Mallow looked at her, Doro felt heat invade her face. She quickly focused on her cinnamon roll and popped a chunk into her mouth. “Delicious.” The older woman’s gaze narrowed, which only increased Doro’s discomfort.

Finally, Mallow responded. “Miss Banyon and Miss Darwine are being kind and helpful.”

Some deeper emotion replaced embarrassment. Surely, she was not disappointed at his inclusion of her best friend. Doro shook off the odd thought.

Mrs. Jones nodded. “They’re both lovely girls. I’ve known Doro since she was born. Her mother and I were dear friends. Still are, and we keep in touch with regular correspondence. It’s not like sitting down and chatting, though.”

Doro’s hand went to the locket beneath her blouse. “I know what you mean.”

With one hand, Mrs. Jones patted Doro’s arm. “It’s good of you to stay in the area. Otherwise, your grandmother would have no relatives nearby and moving away at her age would be difficult.”

“I don’t mind,” Doro replied. “I love my job at the college.” Would Corlon’s demise mean she could keep it? While suspicion fell on Winwood and Pottiger, it also lingered on others. Not wanting to sound callous, she did not voice the idea. Besides, so much was left to unravel.

Sadness filled Mrs. Jones’ gaze. “I’m so sorry you found Professor Corlon’s body. It had to be a terrible shock.” She looked at Mallow. “It’s not a nice way for you to start your new job, and you weren’t supposed to begin until Monday, but we’re all glad you’re here. Wade can’t be in two places at once, and his mother needs him.”

“I’m happy to handle things while he’s at the hospital.” Mallow cleared his throat. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Of course,” she replied.

After another swallow of coffee, he reached into his jacket for pad and paper. “You usually arrive for work early. Is that right?”

“I’m in my office by eight,” Mrs. Jones replied. “Sometimes, a little before then, which was the case on Tuesday. Why do you ask?”

The secretary was sharp. Clearly, she knew something was up. Mallow had been loath to reveal much to witnesses, so Doro doubted he’d tell all to Mrs. Jones, and he proved her right with the next words.

“You and I spoke already, but sometimes people remember more later. After the original shock of a crime wears off. I wondered if that happened with you,” Mallow said in a low, easy tone.

“I’ll admit I’ve tried not to think about the killing since my interview. Such a dreadful crime.” Mrs. Jones’ forehead furrowed, as if she was searching her memory.

Moments of quiet passed during which Doro felt the urge to pepper the woman with more questions. But she followed Mallow’s lead. He remained silent and consumed more of the snack. So did Doro. Finally, Mrs. Jones offered a detail.

“President Winwood unlocked the back door for me, because he wanted me to help him prepare for a Board of Trustees meeting on Wednesday. Of course, that was canceled after the murder.”

Mallow scribbled something on his notepad. “Did you notice anything unusual? See anyone else? I asked before, but maybe a memory has surfaced since then.”

Again, she paused for a moment. “Only one thing was different. The doors to both inner offices, the president’s and the provost’s, were ajar. I don’t have keys to either door, but they’re almost always locked when I arrive at work. President Winwood might’ve been in ahead of me and done so. Typically, when he opens the door early for me, he goes on his daily walk. So, perhaps Provost Pottiger was, although he’s not an early bird.”

“Do they have keys to each other’s offices?” Mallow asked.

“They do,” the secretary replied.

He made more notes before tapping the pencil against the pad. “Is it possible one came in, unlocked their doors, and left—maybe for coffee or to go to someone else’s office?”

“Very few people come in so early,” Mrs. Jones said. “It’s not impossible that the President or Provost could go to the main floor snack bar for coffee, although no one would have been there to make any at that hour. They’d need to do it themselves, something else they rarely take on.”

“I see. Can they go between their offices without coming to your area?” he asked.

Doro wondered why he asked. After all, they had seen and used the connecting door the previous evening, so Mallow knew that was possible.

“They can. When President Adams was here, the provost’s office served as a conference room,” Mrs. Jones said.

Mallow nodded. “Do only the two of them use that inside door?”

“Oh, yes. I’m not to go into either office when they’re out. No one else is, either,” she replied.

“What about the janitors?” Mallow leaned forward as if in anticipation of her reply.

“They come twice a week to do light cleaning. Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Thorough cleanings are done at the end of each term.” Mrs. Jones rose to stir the stew. Once finished, she returned to her chair. “I won’t ask who the suspects are, or the reason for all the new questions. I’ll only say I hope you find the guilty party soon.”

“Thank you, ma’am. For your help and for the snack.” Mallow rose to his feet. “Now, we’ll let you get back to work.”

“I hope I helped a little,” the woman replied.

Doro expressed her gratitude to Mrs. Jones before leading the way to her vehicle. When they got inside, she glanced at Mallow. “Do you think the knobs on the door between the offices are the best place to get fingerprints?”

He grinned. “I do. If they match ones from the card catalogue, we’re a step closer.”

“Only one step? I honestly don’t believe Pierce and Kitty were involved at all.”

Mallow’s good humor faded. “He missed a meeting, and she didn’t show up for work. Then, they both left town. Admittedly, for a reason. But I’ll need to talk with them. We still have no idea how they got the message about her grandmother dying.”

“You’ll interview them, even if the fingerprints in the administrative inner offices match ones on the card catalogue?”

He nodded. “I have to cover all the bases. To that end, we need prints from Gibling, Winwood, Pottiger, Pierce, and Kitty in order to make an arrest. Or arrests. I’m pretty sure the killer is in that group. If not, I’ll talk with Ayers again.” Mallow sighed.

“Of course,” Doro said with a nod, but disappointment encompassed her. Realization followed. “A good detective doesn’t get emotionally invested in cases. He needs to keep an open mind.”

“She does.”

For a moment, she stared at him. He had given her detective status. The thought lifted her spirits. “Both he and she do,” Doro agreed. “Where to next?”

Because the noon hour had passed, Mallow suggested going by the Islington boardinghouse to see if Pierce and Kitty were back. Doro concurred.

Within a few minutes, they were on the porch. Several knocks on the door went unanswered.

“I wonder if the landlady is out,” the officer said.

“Possibly, since we know she runs to her sister’s place to help. The front door is usually unlocked, so we could go in and see if Pierce and Kitty have returned.”

“I suppose that’s all right.”

“Mrs. Islington won’t mind. She’s always had an open-door policy.” When Doro opened the door, she heard voices coming from the second floor—one male, one female. As she started forward, Mallow clasped her forearm.

“Wait,” he whispered. “Do all the boarders stay upstairs?”

“Yes. There are several rooms on the next level and two on the third story.” Doro glanced up the steps. Although the voices carried, the words were not clear. “Only male students live here, and no women are allowed beyond the first floor.”

“Where do the boarders park?” Mallow asked.

“On the side of the house toward the back. You can see from the dining room.”

“Please show me.”

Doro led the way to a large window overlooking the yard, where she pointed toward two vehicles sitting at the back of the lot. “Over there.”

“Do you know if either belongs to Pierce?”

“The black Packard roadster is his,” she replied.

“All right. Let’s go back to the front hall. I’ll call up and see if they’ll come down. Even if they do, I’d like you to stand over to the side. The voices might not belong to Kitty and Pierce, but if it’s them, they may not want to be found. Especially by a lawman.”

His serious tone and expression gave Doro pause, so she nodded before following him to the front of the house. She stood by as he called up the steps.

“Pierce. Kitty. If the two of you are up there, come down now. It’s Everett Mallow, the new campus security officer. We need to talk.”

The voices stopped immediately, but no acknowledgement followed. Neither did footsteps. Mallow glanced at Doro. “It has to be them up there. I’d rather not go after them, but I will if they refuse to come down. You need to stay here, no matter what. All right?”

She nodded, but without enthusiasm. The likelihood of Pierce or Kitty becoming violent seemed slim—to Doro, at least. But she knew the young couple. Mallow didn’t. Not only that, he had experience dealing with fierce criminals, which had to shape his perspective. For now, she would give him the benefit of the doubt.

His response was to ascend the staircase using both the handrail and his cane. When he got to the landing, Mallow paused and called out again. “Pierce and Kitty, you need to come out.”

After a few moments, Doro heard a door open before the floor above her head creaked. A male voice, probably Pierce, echoed down the steps. “What do you want?”

“Just to talk,” Mallow replied. “Come on downstairs.”

Another hesitation followed. Despite her faith in Pierce and Kitty, Doro experienced a wave of apprehension. What if the pair panicked and went after Officer Mallow? The question echoed through her head. Could they have seen Corlon, argued with the man, and ended up killing him in an outburst? Almost immediately, she chastised herself for the wild fancy. Reading mysteries had clearly amplified her imagination. Or maybe writing one had. Still, she held her breath until Kitty spoke.

“Let’s talk with him, Pierce,” the girl said.

“All right,” he replied after a brief hesitation.

Within moments, Mallow came back downstairs with the young couple following in his wake. He turned to Doro. “Do you think Mrs. Islington would mind if we use her parlor?”

“Not at all,” Doro assured him.

When the group assembled in the front room, Kitty and Pierce took the loveseat while Doro and Mallow sat in chairs across from them. The officer leaned his cane against his leg before taking out his pad and pencil. “Thank you for agreeing to talk.”

Kitty nodded as she looked at Doro. “What are you doing here, Miss Banyon?”

A snort left Pierce. “That’s what I’d like to know. I’d like to know why the security man wants to talk with us, too. We’ve been gone, but it’s none of your business. We didn’t do anything immoral. Not that you’d need to know, if we had.”

Color swept into Kitty’s pale face. “Pierce, don’t say such things.”

He took her hand and laced their fingers. “I’m sorry. I don’t like being hounded.”

“I’m not hounding you,” Mallow put in. “I have a few questions, and I want honest answers from both of you. Maybe I should separate you for questioning.”

“That’s not necessary,” Kitty replied, clutching Pierce’s hand harder. “We won’t lie.”

“No, we won’t.” Pierce laid his free hand over both of theirs. For a moment, silence filled the homey room. When he spoke again, his voice was rough and ragged. “I hope you can forgive me for not telling you everything about Tuesday morning.”

The little color left in the girl’s face drained away. “What happened?” she asked in a broken whisper.

Kitty’s anguished expression tore at Doro’s heart. Had the boy killed Corlon? She waited with growing dread.

“Perhaps, you ought to tell all of us what happened,” Mallow suggested.

Pierce released Kitty’s fingers, braced his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. “I was supposed to meet Professor Gibling at the diner. He felt bad about me losing my scholarship, due to Corlon. Last week after class, I told him I might not finish school.”

“You only have the rest of this year left,” Kitty said. “You told me you could make it through to graduation.” Her eyes filled with moisture.

He glanced at her before again bowing his head. “I can finish this term, but there’s not enough money for next semester. Gibling wanted to discuss a couple of ideas with me.”

“But you didn’t meet him,” Doro put in.

Pierce lifted his head and met her gaze. “No. I was on my way there, when I saw Corlon. Of course, he had something nasty to say.”

“Exactly what?” Mallow asked.

The boy exhaled sharply. “Why are you still here? You oughta be back on the farm behind a plow.”

Kitty laid her hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t tell me. I thought we shared everything.”

When Pierce didn’t respond, Doro spoke. “Those were mean comments.”

After a moment, Pierce sat back on the loveseat. As he moved, he again took Kitty’s hand. “He is mean. Was mean, but you know that, Miss Banyon. He’s been terrible to the women on campus.”

“He was,” Kitty said. “But lately, that changed. I hoped he’d modify his feelings about sports, too.”

A snort left Pierce. “He hasn’t. Corlon, Winwood, Pottiger, and Jerritt think colleges should focus strictly on academics. High-brow academics for scholarly young men. Farm boys like me don’t belong in their world.”

“How did you respond to his remarks?” Mallow asked.

“I said he ought to shut his mouth, or I’d shut it for him,” the boy replied.

“Oh, Pierce.” Kitty’s voice was a plaintive murmur.

“I didn’t mean it.” Pierce’s voice softened as he addressed her. “I just wanted to scare him, but he threatened me, said he’d see I got kicked out of school right away, and he could do it. I knew that, and so did he. Then, he stalked away. I followed him to the library, but I only wanted to talk.”

“Really?” Skepticism was clear in Mallow’s one-word question.

“I wanted to make sure he didn’t follow-through on his threat. Money is a big problem, but if I got expelled, I’d have no chance of coming back to finish. I plan to be a lawyer eventually, and I couldn’t let him stop me,” Pierce replied. “Anyhow, while I considered what to do, he took off. He moved fast for an old guy, so I didn’t catch up until he was unlocking the library’s back door.”

“The back door?” Doro echoed. “You went in that way?”

“Both of us did.”

“What happened then?” Mallow asked.

Pierce let his head fall forward. “He told me to go away and leave him alone. I tried to be civil. I pleaded with him not to have me expelled.”

“He wouldn’t listen?” Doro posed the question.

“Not really. He was meeting someone before his class came. He claimed we could talk later. I finally agreed, because he wouldn’t listen,” Pierce said in a defeated tone.

Doro surveyed the boy as he spoke. Did his frustration indicate anxiety about not being believed? Or did it signal a guilty conscience? She wondered how Mallow assessed the responses.

Mallow made more notes. “Where did you head from the library?”

“I went back toward town. By then, the rain had started. Before I got a block, I was soaked. I came back here to call the diner, but Professor Gibling had left. Then, Kitty showed up with the bad news about her grandmother.”

“Back up a bit,” Doro said. “Did you go out the back door of the library?”

Pierce shook his head. “No. Professor Corlon went to the reserve shelf near the circulation desk, and I went along because I was still trying to talk with him. That’s when he told me about meeting someone, and he insisted I leave. Since he promised to talk with me later, I did. Arguing more wouldn’t have helped my case.”

“Probably not,” Doro agreed. “So, you went to the main door in front and left from there?”

“Yep,” the boy replied.

Out of the corner of her eye, Doro saw Mallow turn toward her. Since he seemed to wait for her to continue, she did. “Didn’t you have to turn the inside lock to get out?”

Pierce nodded. “Sure.”

“Do you know if Corlon locked it behind you?” The boy wasn’t being completely honest, which troubled Doro. Was Pierce covering up for Kitty? The girl had been seen with him at the back of the library. Doro studied Kitty, who was pale and shaky.

“I doubt it, since he didn’t walk that far with me,” Pierce responded.

“Where did you go then?” Mallow asked.

“To my boardinghouse,” Pierce said. “Like I said.”

Mallow posed another question. “Somehow, the two of you connected because you both went to the funeral in Richfield Center. But how did you find out about your grandmother?”

Kitty sighed. “The telephone at the dormitory front desk was ringing and ringing when I was on my way to the cafeteria. That doesn’t happen often, but somehow a call got through from the Richfield Center operator.” With the back of one hand, she wiped at her eyes. “I never thought it would be for me. But it was…” Her voice broke. When Pierce slid his arm around her slender shoulders, Kitty rested her head on his chest.

“What time was that?” Mallow asked.

“After five-thirty,” Kitty replied. “I slept poorly, so I planned to have coffee before I started work at six.”

Mallow and Doro exchanged a long look before he made more notes. Mrs. Gardner had mentioned new lines making calls to dormitories possible. Doro hoped Wheaton Hall would soon have the same availability. But did this information absolve the young couple? Doro wasn’t sure. “You found out your grandmother died.” Doro spoke in a hushed murmur.

“Yes. It was my mother calling. She was distraught and wanted me to come right away, since she was already at the farm. I ran to my room, packed a bag, and headed to town. I didn’t want to telephone the boardinghouse so early,” the girl said. “I should’ve let someone know I was leaving, but my gramma and I were close, and I just wanted to get there.”

“And Pierce agreed to take you,” Mallow suggested.

“I did. No one was up at my boardinghouse, so I scribbled a note, packed a bag, and we left.” Pierce patted Kitty’s back.

“Why did you two stop at the library?” Mallow’s query had the young couple looking at each other, but neither hurried to reply. “We know you did, because you were seen there.”

Doro held her breath as the bold statement pierced the air. The couple huddled closer together, as if warding off the pending accusations.

After what seemed like an interminable silence, Kitty nodded. “When Pierce told me about his run-in with Professor Corlon, I suggested we stop briefly so I could talk with him. He’d softened his attitude about a coeducational campus, and I wondered if he might be less hostile about sports. Or at least, about not having Pierce expelled.”

The slow drip of information pointed to the pair killing Corlon, which filled Doro with horror. Both young people had been in her class, and she liked them immeasurably. Unable to form a question or comment, she waited for Mallow to go ahead.

“How did he react to seeing the two of you?” the officer asked.

The two both looked uneasy. “He didn’t see us,” Kitty said.

“Why not?” Mallow kept his voice well-modulated, but tension filtered into it.

A long moment passed before Pierce murmured, “He was on the floor by the card catalogue. I bent to see if we could help him. It was too late.”

Kitty’s free hand went to her mouth. “It was awful. We were both shocked.”

Torn between doubt and sympathy, Doro used the latter to shape her comment. “I’m sure it was terrible.” If the two were lying, they would be caught soon enough. If they were innocent, Doro empathized. Finding a dead body was an awful experience.

Mallow did not follow suit. Instead, he got down to brass tacks. “What time was that?”

“Probably around seven,” Pierce said.

Kitty nodded. “That sounds right. By the time, I packed and got to the boardinghouse, it was after six. We didn’t get away from there and to the library for another forty minutes. It took me a while to convince Pierce to let me try talking with the professor.”

“It did,” he agreed. “Now, I wish we had gone straight to Richfield Center.”

“I do, too,” Kitty said in a broken whisper.

Her sweetheart hugged her closer. “You wanted to help me. Neither of us could’ve guessed what happened.”

Doro watched with mixed feelings. Was the pair acting? Or sincere? A glance at Mallow revealed little of his perspective, so she again waited for him to proceed.

“You realized he was dead,” Mallow said.

Doro listened for one of the pair to confirm the statement. When neither did, she turned it into a question. “Did you know?”

A harsh sigh left Pierce. “We did.”

“But you didn’t report the death,” Mallow put in. “Instead, you went out-of-town, stayed away two days, and hid upstairs when I came to talk with you.”

His words held unvarnished skepticism, bordering on accusation. Doro could not find fault with either sentiment.

“We weren’t hiding,” Pierce shot back.

“Then, what were you doing?” Doro asked. “Mrs. Islington doesn’t allow women upstairs.”

Once again, color surged into Kitty’s cheeks. “We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“Maybe. Maybe not, but your behavior since Tuesday morning makes both of you look guilty,” Doro told the girl. “Your story is weak, at best. You were in a hurry to get to Ridgefield Center due to the death of your grandmother, but we’re to believe you stopped at the library to chat with Corlon, who has given both of you no end of trouble. He’s also trying to disband YWV, a group you head, Kitty. You were very upset about that when we last spoke.”

The girl shifted restlessly on the loveseat. “Since then, I heard he had proposed keeping the college open to women. His niece is interested in coming here.”

Since they had heard as much already, Doro didn’t argue the last point. “What about not going straight to Richfield Center?”

“I told her how upset I was, Miss Banyon, so that’s my doing,” Pierce said. “When Kitty suggested talking to Professor Corlon, I finally gave in because it might’ve worked, and I was desperate.”

“I wanted to help,” Kitty added. “We plan to get betrothed after graduation. We’ll both teach for a year or two, so we can save money for a house and a family. If Pierce doesn’t graduate, he’ll have a harder time finding a job in the city, and we both want to live there. And you know he wants to go to law school as soon as he has enough money.”

The story made sense, but a glance at Mallow told Doro that he wasn’t completely convinced. She waited for him to continue the interview, since she had already interceded at points. Maybe he could glean more.

“I agree with Miss Banyon that your tale is suspect,” the officer said.

“You aren’t going to arrest us, are you?” Kitty sounded distraught and afraid. “We did nothing wrong.”

“I don’t have enough evidence to take you in,” Mallow assured the girl. “But I have evidence. More than enough to keep you near the top of my suspect list. To exclude you two, I’d like you to come to the constable’s office, so I can get your fingerprints.”

Kitty and Pierce exchanged a long look, before he spoke. “We were in the library, so our prints are there, along with hundreds of others.”

“There aren’t many on the card catalogue and drawer,” Mallow began. “The janitors did a thorough cleaning Monday night, so the only prints are from Tuesday morning.”

Doro wondered why Mallow didn’t mention three sets of prints, but she waited to hear how the young couple would respond.

Pierce again hung his head. “The drawer was against the professor’s head. I moved it away,” the boy said.

“He just wanted to check the wound. At first, we didn’t realize that the man was dead. We were trying to help,” Kitty said. “Really.”

Mallow paused in his notetaking to look at the pair. “You both touched it?”

“Only me,” Pierce replied.

“I’ll still want prints from both of you.” The undercurrent of anger in Mallow’s voice was palpable.

“We didn’t do it,” Kitty said in an urgent, pleading tone. “We wouldn’t do such a thing. Not either of us. Someone else had to be in the library.”

Pierce’s head jerked up as he turned to Kitty. “Someone else was. Remember, we thought we heard a door close even before we got to his body?”

Kitty’s eyes widened as she nodded. “I do. The sound was from the back of the library.”

“That would be convenient,” Mallow observed in a flat tone.

Despite his statement, Doro figured he must be thinking about President Winwood. While Kitty and Pierce hearing noise wasn’t solid corroboration, it was a tidbit to pursue. “Maybe someone else saw a person near the back door at that time.”

When Mallow turned his head toward her, a slight smile played across his lips. “Maybe so. We’ll have to go on investigating.”

Doro bit her lip to keep from grinning in response. They were on the same page. With luck, that page was close to the end of this whodunit.

Mallow snapped his notebook shut. “Sooner would be better than later in terms of getting fingerprints. Miss Tenseng, you can ride with Miss Banyon. I’ll go with your beau.”

Kitty remained silent on the way to the constable’s station, and so did Doro—at least she did until she pulled into a parking place and killed the engine. “I hope you haven’t told any lies about this situation. You were wrong not to report the death right away, although I understand why you didn’t.” The girl’s stricken expression was hard to bear.

“We made a terrible mistake by not staying and getting help. Not that anyone could’ve helped him. But Mr. Quartine probably found him shortly after we left,” Kitty observed.

Doro shook her head. “No, he didn’t. I did, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience.”

Kitty’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Doro told her. “Officer Mallow and Constable Lammers could’ve saved time and energy with extra information from the start. They probably interviewed more people than necessary because you didn’t report what you found. I’m disappointed in you.”

A shuddering sigh left the girl. “I’m disappointed in myself. I know better, but I was worried about Pierce. He was really upset and afraid of being blamed. I was, too. He’d had a few run-ins with Professor Corlon. Run-ins witnessed by other people.”

“You and the professor had a shaky history, as well.”

A soft sigh left the girl. “He wasn’t a nice man, but I think he was sincere about keeping the college coed. Maybe only because of his niece. Even so, other girls can study here, too.”

“He wasn’t the only one against admitting and hiring women, so that could still be an issue,” Doro said. Solving the crime might not influence that.