Chapter Eleven

An hour later, Doro and Mallow were alone in the constable’s office. “Now, you have sets from two suspects, and a way to get prints from Winwood and Pottiger. But what about Stanley? Are you going to ask him to come in, or are you planning a covert foray into his office?”

Mallow shook his head, but amusement danced in his gaze. “You’d probably vote for a covert foray.”

A chuckle escaped Doro. “All the sleuths in books are surreptitious.” The jangling of the telephone interrupted. “I’ll run and get it.” Doro didn’t wait for him to agree, since he’d been furtively massaging his leg off-and-on. And no wonder. He had been on it all day and, most likely, a good part of the previous night. Despite that, he got up, grabbed his cane, and limped over to the front desk behind her. Doro spoke with the operator, who relayed the caller’s name. After thanking Mrs. Gardner, she handed the candlestick base and earpiece to Mallow. “It’s Constable Lammers.”

“Thanks.” Mallow braced himself against the counter.

Doro listened intently to Mallow’s side of the conversation. When he hung up, she made an observation. “His mother is better, so he can return to work.” Disappointment fell over her like a shroud. Her help would not be needed much longer.

“Pretty much. He’ll be back tonight. Before then, we need to get prints from Gibling, Winwood, and Pottiger. Then, Wade can take all the fingerprints to the sheriff’s department for comparison. With some luck, we may have evidence to arrest the killer tomorrow.”

“That would be wonderful.” Doro wholeheartedly hoped that would happen, but who did Mallow mean by we? Not wanting to assume, she strove for clarification. “You’re going to get the prints without Wade’s help?”

A frown furrowed his brow. “I need them when he arrives. He’ll have to turn around and go back to the city, but Wade is taking his aunt to stay near the hospital, in case another emergency arises. His mother is better but not out of the woods.” Mallow shifted his cane from one hand to the other and back. “You and I discussed returning to the administrative offices already.”

Relief filled Doro. She wasn’t done sleuthing yet. “Of course. I thought you’d work with Wade instead.”

His puzzlement disappeared. “I want him in on the arrest. As for collecting evidence, you’ve been doing that already. You and Miss Darwine have done a lot of good work.”

The praise lifted her spirits. “When do you want to go to College Hall?”

“More toward evening,” he replied. “I definitely don’t want to cross paths with Winwood or Pottiger, since they can’t be ruled out.”

“Agreed. What about Stanley?”

“I’ll call and see if he’ll come here.”

For a moment, Doro considered that avenue. “What if he won’t cooperate?”

“I plan to start by asking about his interactions with Pierce. At the end, I’ll bring up fingerprinting.”

“Will you suggest it might clear him?” Doro asked.

“My exact plan.”

“Are you going to mention the cufflink?”

Mallow narrowed his gaze. “Would you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’d whisk it out after he gets here and assess his reaction.”

“Smart thinking.”

The two words pleased Doro beyond measure.

Within thirty minutes, a flushed Stanley Gibling stepped into the constable’s office. His narrowed gaze went from Doro to Mallow. “I could’ve answered extra questions on the telephone. Not that I know more than I told you before.”

“Thank you for coming,” the officer said. “I’d rather not conduct business over the phone lines, which is why I wanted you to come in. As for our previous discussion, I know more than I did then, so I have more questions.”

Stanley stiffened. “I have no idea what you’ve heard, but I didn’t kill that man.”

“Officer Mallow didn’t say you did,” Doro put in, mostly to keep Stanley from stalking out, which seemed all too likely. He appeared as unsettled as when she had last seen him.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have other things to do, Doro?” Stanley asked in a cutting tone.

“Miss Banyon is assisting me,” Mallow said, “since Constable Lammers is handling a family emergency.”

Stanley looked around the front office. “Where’s the clerk?”

“She only works part-time,” Doro replied.

“Seems like she ought to be here more, everything considered.” Stanley laid his arms across his chest. “What do you want to know?”

“Let’s sit at the constable’s desk.” Mallow gestured toward the far corner.

Doro watched as the two men settled on the opposite side of the space. For the first time, Doro was glad the office was one large room. Bigger departments had sequestered areas, but Michaw, with a small population and few crimes, needed nothing more. She hoped it never did. At the moment, she primarily hoped to overhear the exchange between Mallow and Stanley.

That proved to be no problem. Mallow’s voice carried well, and Stanley spoke as if he was in a large classroom. Since the professor’s back was to her, Doro didn’t pretend to be doing something else. Instead, she listened intently as Mallow provided selected details from their conversation with Pierce and Kitty. She noted how careful he was to only focus on matters directly related to the planned meeting between student and professor.

“What I’m wondering is if you saw the young couple later. Maybe driving out of town,” Mallow suggested. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to make them look guilty, even to clear your own name.”

Doro wished she could see Stanley’s face. Mallow’s amiable tone and casual words combined to make it seem like he no longer suspected the professor. In her mind, the man was not completely exonerated, but Stanley’s reaction might be revealing.

“I shouldn’t have to clear my name, because I’ve done nothing wrong. As for seeing Pierce and his sweetheart, I didn’t.” Stanley cleared his throat. “I’m sorry she lost her grandmother, and I understand the boy driving her to Richfield Center.”

Since Mallow had not mentioned the young couple stopping at the library, Stanley’s assumption that Pierce had missed their meeting due to Kitty’s family emergency made sense to Doro. But didn’t Stanley know anything of note? Or was he guilty? That possibility seemed strong.

“I didn’t want Pierce, or anyone else, to suffer because of that insufferable snob and his cronies. You may not realize it, Officer, but Michaw College was a progressive school under President Adams. Not only were women admitted and employed over the past decade, the scholarship program grew by leaps-and-bounds. Few average folks can afford to send their children to a private college. Adams ensured that bright students from every socioeconomic class could come here. I admired that. I wanted to be part of it. Then, Winwood, Pottiger, Corlon, and Jerritt arrived and started ruining the place. Someone needs to stop them, but knocking off one won’t solve the problem. I know that much.”

Mallow leaned back in his chair. For a fleeting moment, he glanced over Stanley’s shoulder at Doro. Then, he continued. “Pierce was furious with Corlon, and he says you sympathized, which I understand. After all, you had issues with the man yourself.”

“Issues?” Stanley echoed. “That’s putting it mildly, Officer Mallow. He planned to keep me from getting tenure. After six years here, after working on various projects to help the school, after dedicating myself to my students…after everything I did, he wanted to get rid of me. Do you have any idea how hard it would be to find a comparable position elsewhere? Even if I do, I’ll have to start all over and work hard for another six years to be eligible for tenure. Chances are good I won’t get it, because being denied here is something I won’t be able to hide.”

As Doro listened to the exchange, she knew Stanley was right. Killing one of the Fearsome Foursome wouldn’t change the path of the remaining three. For a moment, she reviewed the clues and suspect. She was still considering all angles, when Mallow said what had come to her mind.

“Whoever killed Corlon acted on the spur of the moment, so I doubt he thought about the others. He may not have thought about changes at the college. He may have simply lashed out in anger,” Mallow said.

Stanley clasped the chair arms until his knuckles went white. “But that person was not me.”

A wedge of silence opened. As it did, Doro saw Stanley’s shoulders stiffen. After a moment, Mallow reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out. Undoubtedly, the cufflink. Her heart raced while she waited for Mallow’s next move.

The officer thrust his hand across the desk and opened his palm. “Is this yours, Professor?”

Gibling leaned forward. “Where did you find that?” he asked.

“Does it belong to you?” Mallow asked.

“It does,” Gibling replied. “I lost it before classes started.”

When the professor reached for the cufflink, Mallow closed his fingers around it and sat back in his chair. “Where did it go missing?”

“I have no idea. I looked all over my apartment and my office. And in College Hall.” Gibling shot a glance over his shoulder at Doro. “It was a gift from a friend.”

The paltry explanation annoyed Doro. Aggie and Stanley had been more than friends. With difficulty, she withheld comment.

“It’s an expensive piece of jewelry, so it must’ve been from a good friend,” Mallow said.

Gibling shrugged. “In any case, I’d like it back.”

“I need to keep it for now.” Mallow put the item in his pocket again. “It’s evidence.”

“Evidence,” Gibling echoed. “That’s ridiculous.”

A few moments passed before the officer responded. “We found it near the back door of the library.”

“What?” Gibling turned toward Doro. “It couldn’t have been there all this time, so you must’ve found it and kept it. Now, you want to frame me because I didn’t propose to Aggie.”

Shock momentarily held Doro mute. The man was a cad, but was he a killer? Although Doro wanted to hurl an accusation at him, she resisted. Instead, she stuck to the case. “No one planted the cufflink, Stanley. It was in the corner behind some crates. We saw it because Officer Mallow had a flashlight. The sterling silver shone brightly in the beam.”

Gibling turned back toward Mallow without responding to Doro. “I picked up books before classes began. I probably lost it then but didn’t notice because I was busy. It’s not solid evidence of me killing Corlon.” His terse tone revealed little.

“You can prove you didn’t touch the drawer by providing your fingerprints,” Mallow said.

From her vantage point, Doro saw Stanley’s shoulders stiffen. Would he cooperate? Resistance would be a red flag.

“Where do I have to go?” Gibling asked.

“I’ve got a kit here.” Mallow reached into the desk and pulled it out. “I have prints from the drawer, and the county sheriff will have someone compare yours, along with a few others, with those.”

“So, I’m not the only suspect left,” Gibling said.

“Nope,” Mallow replied. “One of several.”

The professor agreed to the process and, after the prints were taken and stored away, he spoke again. “Can I leave now?”

Mallow shook his head. “I’d like to ask a few more questions.”

“I answered a lot on Tuesday, and I told you. I don’t know more,” Gibling shot back.

“And I told you,” Mallow said, “I know more than I did then.”

The professor rubbed his neck and sighed. “Go ahead.”

Stanley’s tone indicated resignation, but at least he had provided prints. Doro wasn’t at all sure he would say anything useful, since he was apt to point a finger at others.

“What about meeting Pierce Dudley?” Mallow began in a calm voice.

“What about it? He didn’t show up,” Gibling said. “Does he deny it?”

“Not at all, but the boy was out and about early on Tuesday. Did you see him?” Mallow asked.

“I already said he didn’t come to the diner,” Gibling replied in a curt voice.

“And you saw no sign of him anyplace else?” Mallow continued.

Doro saw the professor sit up straighter. Clearly, the question had hit home with him. With her pulse pounding in her ears, she waited for a response.

“No sign,” Gibling said. “Was he seen around the library? He’d have come from the same direction as Corlon. Maybe Pierce trailed after him. The boy has been upset for a while. He lost his scholarship due to Corlon, who also picked on Kitty Tenseng, which made matters worse.”

Mallow nodded. “Being threatened with expulsion had to upset Pierce more.”

Since they knew that to be true, Doro silently credited Mallow with clever interrogation. Despite his insistence that he was no detective, the officer was skilled in revealing only dribs and drabs—just enough to get a suspect to talk.

Stanley ran one hand over his dark hair. “He was distraught. Pierce doesn’t want to go back to the farm. He wants to teach in the city, save money, and go to law school. Following a plow, slinging hay, and tending critters won’t further that dream.”

“The boy shared a lot with you,” Mallow said.

“He has,” Stanley agreed. “His parents allowed him to attend school due to the scholarship, but they’ve always wanted him to come home after graduation, teach in their local school, and help on the farm. Since he has to pay his own way, they think he should leave now. My ma and pa were much the same, so I understand his dilemma. And he has an additional one. He and Kitty want to get married, and she’s averse to living on a farm. She’s a city girl.”

The new details reinforced what Doro already knew about Kitty and Pierce. Although she had not experienced it herself, young love created powerful responses and, sometimes, reckless actions. A reading of “Romeo and Juliet” had convinced her of that, not to mention her grandmother’s tales of “foolish young folks who let their hearts overrule their heads.” Did the couple fall into that category?

“She was pressuring him?” the officer suggested.

A half-shrug lifted one of Stanley’s narrow shoulders. “Pierce felt pressured. He was in a bad situation, and I wanted to help him. Finishing school here would be ideal. If that’s not possible, I was looking into him transferring to another college. He’s a good athlete, so snagging a scholarship elsewhere could happen. I have a friend at my alma mater, who works with the coaches, and he’s looking into options for the boy.” Stanley’s voice had lost most of its edge. Now, he sounded sincerely concerned.

“That’s kind of you,” Mallow observed.

“He’s a fine young man, one who deserves a break. If you’re thinking Pierce killed Corlon, and I suppose you are, think again,” Stanley said.

At least Gibling wasn’t trying to save his own neck by pinning the blame on Pierce. Doro gave him credit for that.

Mallow looked down at his notepad before responding. “I’m gathering information. We need to find the killer, or classes may be suspended indefinitely. No one wants that. And no one wants the campus and town communities living in fear.”

“Is that what Winwood said?” the professor asked.

“No, he didn’t. I made an assumption, since no restart date was announced,” Mallow replied. “Constable Lammers and I want to solve the case quickly. Some students and employees were nervous enough to leave campus. Townsfolk are on edge, too, but few of them have the option of going elsewhere until the killer is behind bars. Although I work for the school, I want everyone to feel safe.”

For a long moment, silence filled the room. Finally, Stanley nodded. “It’s a nice town with good people. They deserve peace and security.”

“If you have information that might help, I’d appreciate hearing it,” Mallow said.

Would his earnestness move Stanley to reveal more? As Doro waited to find out, she held her breath.

“You must already know Corlon and his cronies raised plenty of hackles around here. I’m not the only professor who clashed with them. I’m just the only one coming up for tenure this year,” the man replied. “Several others will be next year. All women. My guess is they’ll be turned down, and men will be hired in their places. Men who think females belong at home, not in classrooms.”

As she listened, Doro felt her insides knot. What Stanley said was true. Too true for comfort. Maybe the Fearsome Foursome had planned to change tactics and weed out troublemakers with denial of tenure. Since almost all women faculty members had been labeled as such, they could be gone within a few years. When they were, would any girls want to come to Michaw College? Would any be admitted? Doubtful. Very doubtful. But what about Corlon’s evident change of heart? Was it genuine? If so, had it been a factor in his death? That question kept resurfacing in her mind.

Mallow again glanced beyond Stanley to look directly at Doro. Unless she was mistaken, his silver eyes held a silent query—do you think he’s right? Unsure, she shrugged. The officer returned his attention to the professor.

“I’m aware a lot of people had reason to dislike Corlon and the others. But who among that group would kill him? That’s what I have to discover,” Mallow said.

“Good luck to you,” Stanley said.

“We could use luck,” Mallow replied. “Thanks for coming in. I’ll let you know about the fingerprint results when we hear, probably tomorrow.”