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Adam looked at his handiwork through bleary eyes. Was it lack of sleep clouding his judgment, or did he just want the task to be over with? But it didn’t matter. It was good enough. The boards over the windows would suffice until the new panes arrived. And at least he could open and close the front door.
The chief had offered to let Adam stay with him and his wife last night, and even Jinks had said she and Felicia had an extra room, but he’d decided to stay in his own place. He was never one to run from a fight.
The damage was more to his pride than anything else. He didn’t like having people make a fuss over him, and he didn’t want to appear vulnerable. In cop terms, that was like saying you were a coward, and being a coward was a sure-fire way to lose respect. Might as well quit after that.
He’d wanted to call up Beverly to see how she was doing but was afraid he might wake her. So he waited until ten-thirty to send her a text that was straight out of high school. RUOK?
She’d replied back with, “Just had coffee with Zelda. Off to see Agnes next.”
Coffee with Zelda? It that wasn’t her way of making a joke, then he knew he was in for an earful later. But which one would it come from? Beverly or Zelda? Or both?
After showering off the grime and sawdust, he headed in to confer with Jinks. She was already waiting for him in his office when he arrived, with her feet up on his desk. “Good morning, gorgeous. Aren’t we looking gruff and grizzled on this lovely Saturday? I know how you love working weekends.”
He growled at her, realizing he sounded like a bear. “Any lab tests on that bomb yet?”
“Preliminary results indicate it was your garden-variety pipe bomb. Probably got the plans from a website and went down to the hardware store for the bomb guts. The explosive was black powder. Enough to shake, rattle, and roll. And potentially seriously injure whoever was holding it.”
“The bomb squad track down the purchaser?”
“Not yet. Could have had the components lying around. Or bought them out of state. They’re still checking the shrapnel for prints.”
“Looks like somebody doesn’t want me clearing Harlan’s name. And putting theirs in the pot instead.”
“If that’s the right pot.”
“Forsythe and his stew of crooks and thieves?”
“Could be. We still haven’t tracked down Redbeard. He ran from you at the hospital, which indicates he knew you. Feared you, perhaps? Held a grudge?”
“We’ll find him soon enough. In the meantime, now that you mention grudges, I think it’s time we talked again with the victim’s neighbor, our randy professor.”
“Good idea.” Jinks pointed at a piece of paper on Adam’s desk where he’d scrawled out a note. “Couldn’t help seeing that little puzzle. Moody Blues NH lieutenant? A classic rock-and-roll flashback, or are you taking up crosswords?”
“Called one of Sergeant Moody’s former colleagues up in New Hampshire.”
“Ah. Keeping an eye on the enemy?”
“You gotta be able to trust your fellow cops when the chips are down. And I don’t trust Moody.”
“What did you find?”
“Moody’s old colleague hemmed and hawed. Didn’t want to come right out and say anything bad. But I got the impression they were glad to get rid of him.”
“Swell.” Jinks hopped off her chair and reached over Adam’s desk to open his top left drawer. She pulled out a couple of Tootsie Rolls and threw one at him. “I’ll wager you had as little breakfast as I did.”
“Late night with Jacob?”
“Yes and no. He’s doing better. But I also stopped by the Hardin Technical College campus this morning at the Student Activities Center to talk to a few students. Off the record. Turns out, Dr. Atkinson is a serial womanizer. The woman Beverly saw him with the other day matches the description of his T.A.” Jinks gave Adam a wicked smile. “Guess T.A. really stands for tits and—”
“Yeah, I get it. Sounds like he’s pretty blatant about it.”
“Might be why his wife looked so down in the dumps when we saw her.”
“Also sounds like he and Wallace Ryall had quite a bit in common if those assault complaints against him are true.”
“Atkinson made up all those stories about Ryall’s vandalism? And they’re rapist-best-buds?”
“I checked the police files, and Atkinson did file a couple of complaints. Not to say he didn’t throw eggs at his own house and blame Ryall.”
Jinks said, “Wait right here.” She disappeared down the hall, then reappeared moments later with some stale sandwiches left over from last night.
He pointed at them. “You’re not going to eat those.”
“No mayo, no salmonella. Better than oatmeal. Or Tootsie Rolls.” Jinks knew Adam’s aversion to “gruel” or anything that remotely resembled gray food. He grabbed one, and they wolfed them down with warm sodas before heading off to see Professor Open-Fly.
When they arrived, Vernon Atkinson didn’t seem either surprised or distressed by their presence. He explained his wife was visiting her new niece again. “We thought about having a baby ourselves at one time. But they do tie you down, don’t they?”
Adam said, “Especially when you’re too busy having sex with other women. Including your students.”
Atkinson smiled, exposing his unyellowed teeth. Did he think whitening made him more of a babe magnet? He looked amused as he replied, “I’ve had lots of relationships with other women, Detective Dutton.”
“Was Wallace Ryall blackmailing you about those women?”
“He tried. I told him what I’m going to tell you. That it wouldn’t do any good.”
“And why is that?”
“My wife and I have what is commonly called an ‘open marriage.’ She knows about those other women.”
“And your fellow professors and the college administrators?”
“I have tenure. Those students are all of majority age, none are in my own classes, and our relationships are consensual. No story there. Truth be told, I think my colleagues are secretly jealous.”
“Did Wallace Ryall ever try to join you in these ‘consensual’ encounters?”
“A threesome, you mean?”
“I mean, did he express an interest in dating any of these women? Consensual or otherwise?”
Atkinson sat on his hands. And then he crossed his legs, and Adam had the wicked thought he probably didn’t do it all that often.
The other man said, “I do hope you’re not going to bring the ‘R’ word into the conversation. As I said, the women I’m with want to be with me. As for Wallace Ryall, I have no idea what his status with women was. Other than the one girlfriend he had. She was quite a looker that one. Now that she’s on the market again, perhaps I should—”
Jinks butted in, “She’s dating this big, burly Italian dude. I wouldn’t go there if I were you. Unless you already have. Were you and Fern Gery getting it on?”
“I do love that term. But no, alas.”
Adam was proud of Jinks’s restraint. Left to her own devices, she’d be perfectly happy to chop up this cretin into professor-burger and feed him to her dogs.
Adam asked, “Does the name Jane Campen mean anything to you?”
Atkinson shook his head.
“Did your friend Ramsay Ryall ever mention his brother Wallace coming on to Ramsay’s wife?”
“No, not that I recall.”
“Did he ever come on to your wife?”
“She kept as far from him as possible. That’s interesting about Ramsay and his wife. If that happened, I could perfectly understand him wanting to kill his brother. Although a sword seems very over-the-top for his style.”
“And what would his style be?”
“He’s an expert woodsman. He could have arranged all sorts of ‘accidents.’”
“Do you own any swords, Dr. Atkinson?”
“I don’t. But if that question is a sign you’re ready to charge me with something, I should call my lawyer.”
“We have to check all the angles, sir. We know where the murder weapon came from.”
“Yes, I read about that in the papers. Wills, bequests, and such. Don’t these things usually come down to money?”
Adam stood up and motioned to Jinks. “Thank you for your time, Professor. We’ll be in touch.”
They’d barely got outside the door when Jinks pounded her fists against her sides. “God’s gift to women, he is not. Despite what he says. If I weren’t already a lesbian, he’d be enough to turn me into one.”
“I’m uncomfortable with him dating naïve, impressionable eighteen-year-olds. But unless he does something illegal, and the college doesn’t complain, there’s nothing we can do.”
Jinks growled. “His poor wife. Judging by her expression last time we were here, don’t think she’s as happy with this ‘open marriage’ arrangement as he is.”
“Atkinson never said Wallace Ryall didn’t hit on his wife. Only that she ‘kept as far from him as possible.’”
“If he pulled a Jane Campen-style attack on her. . .”
“Then both she and Atkinson have reason to kill Wallace.”
Jinks grimaced. “I’ll check on that story of hers about visiting her sister and new niece when Wallace was killed. Sometimes I think I should keep a phone glued to my ear. Go to bed wearing one of those over-the-ear jobs. Would save a bunch of time.”
“And be a charming fashion accessory. You could patent some phone cozies. Make a killing.”
Jinks groaned at his choice of words. “Just for that, I’m not feeding you any more stale sandwiches.”
Adam silently cheered at that. The one he’d eaten was currently causing his stomach to complain in no uncertain terms. He rode out another wave of rumbling and promised himself he’d make a proper meal soon. With lobster and roasted acorn squash. And maybe he’d finally get Beverly Laborde to join him. At the moment, he’d settle for a heaping serving of Pepto with an antacid chaser.
