Chapter 11

I was wondering just what to say to Jim about how my hair got wet in the library, when I ran a hand through it and realized that ten minutes in the sun had rendered it reasonably dry -- and anyway, Jim would notice nothing.

Jim, in fact, was in his doorway, depriving Billings of a chance to lean his canary-colored shirt against the jamb.

"Hi," he said. "I think you've met Inspector Billings."

"Lieutenant," said Billings. "We met on Monday, but we also spent some time together on Friday, didn't we, Professor?"

"Yes we did. Hi, Jim. Hello, Lieutenant. How was your weekend?"

Jim looked curious. But he didn't jump in.

"Not bad. I had a telex response to my inquiry. The one we sent off Friday."

"Already?"

"Yes. Apparently, the Father wasn't hard to get hold of."

"We're going for lunch. Care to join us?"

Billings shook his head. "No. Sorry. But you'll meet me as planned?"

"Gillespie's office at 1:30."

"Right." He turned and walked a few steps down the hall. "Oh. And thanks for your time, Professor."

"Sure," responded Jim. He waited till Billings disappeared around a corner. "And what was that about?"

"Tell you when we're off campus. We'll take my car and go to that deli on El Cajon, OK?"

"Sure."

We went for overstuffed sandwiches and I told Jim about Friday's adventures, my readings in Alice's stuff on Sunday, and my encounter with the janitor. He gestured at the manila envelope, which I was still carrying, as though I could tote Nan's lushness around with me. I could have tossed it in the back of the car, but hadn't.

"Some of Nan's papers. She asked me to read them and advise her on graduate schools."

"Oh. Yeah." Jim mumbled around a corned beef and salami triple decker. "Any good?"

"I don't know. I haven't even opened the envelope yet." I had finished my simple pastrami on rye and now carefully wiped my hands and opened the envelope.

There were three papers inside. On top was "The Characters of Gryll Grange". It was by Fernanda Sanchez y Gomez. At least I now, finally, knew her name. The second was also on Peacock. The third was a Xerox of what must have been handed to Alice. It was called "Conrad, Ford and Romance." From Sunday's -- yesterday's -- reading, I knew that Romance had been a collaboration. The date on it revealed that it was over two years old, written when Nan was but a sophomore. I slid the stuff back into the envelope. Jim had managed to force the rest of his sandwich in while I was reading title pages.

"They look mildly interesting. Gillespie gave her As on both papers. Alice's grade isn't visible on this copy."

"A for sure. Alice gives out high grades, and Nan's no dummy." He signaled the waiter for more coffee. "Well, who are the prime suspects, now?"

"I don't know. I can't imagine who could have done it -- or why. Oh, everyone thought he was a louse, but that's not a reason for murder. Maybe it was done by committee. It's possible that Billings will reveal something."

"Stop at my office afterward?"

"Sure."

"I've got a meeting from two till three. Come by after three."

I took care of the check and we drove back to State. Miraculously, the same spot was open. I fed more change into the meter. We separated in the hallway, Jim heading for his office, me for Gillespie's.

As I came down the hall, I could hear Alice's voice, and as I got nearer I could make out the words: "No, no, no. Looking Backward and Erewhon aren't the same sort of thing at all. Butler was writing a religious satire. And Bellamy and Butler are writing future history for entirely different..." Despite the volume, I tuned Alice out. I just couldn't generate any interest in early science fiction or Victorian utopias or whatever she was teaching. I turned the corner to Gillespie's office. Billings, for a change, was sitting in the desk chair, looking at Brother O'Hanlon's letters.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi. Sit down and let's talk. Maybe you can give me some ideas. I got a telex that makes me think you can be a big help."

"Should I close the door?"

"No. We'll just not be as loud as some." I sat. Billings closed the folder and pulled a sheet of flimsy paper from his shirt pocket. "The telex I dictated on Friday went right out. The police in Winnetka must have had it around six or so. I gather the head of detectives went over to the school early on Saturday and talked to Father Schmidt. He didn't think it was a good idea to tell O'Hanlon who, I gather is not well in addition to being blind. Anyway, it seems that about two or three weeks ago there was a letter from Gillespie in which he said some 'disturbing' -- Schmidt's word -- things about someone here at State committing a crime. Schmidt showed the letter to Tommasso, the detective. Nobody was named, but Tommasso thought it might be important, so he sent it to us by registered mail. It hasn't gotten here yet. I just called a few minutes ago. So we'll have to wait till tomorrow."

"So it was to shut him up."

"Looks like it. Gillespie must have confronted the guy. And last Monday the guy made certain there'd be no exposure."

"And?"

"And that's it -- so far. But you're the prof. And you're in the clear. So you might be able to think of what might have been going on. What might Gillespie have discovered? To be frank, there aren't that many things the students or faculty could have been getting into. Or not a lot that might lead to murder. Drugs? Maybe. Illegal immigrants? Fake diplomas? I just don't know. But you ought to know. You've been around other universities. What do you think?"

I was quiet for a while. "I don't know. Look at what you mentioned. Drugs? Well, they're all over. But a kingpin in an English Department? I don't think so. Immigrants? Maybe in a church group, they get into asylum and acts of humanity. Maybe animal lab raiders. There haven't been any around here, but there have been elsewhere in California. Fake grades? Fake degrees? That's possible. I wonder just how the system works here." I fell silent. "Can I see the letter when you get it?"

"Of course. But don't publicize it. And we've got another problem."

"What?"

Mrs. Larsen has sent a full power of attorney to dispose of the house and its contents, the car and the office's contents. We don't want her messing around yet. But it will get harder as time goes on. I thought I'd let her loose in the house, as there didn't seem to be anything of importance there. But I'd like someone to go with her. Could you... ?"

"Back to Gillespie's house?"

"Yes. With Professor Singleton." Billings gestured towards her voice with his head.

"Sure. Why not talk to her now?"

Alice Singleton, today clad in something like a green and blue bathrobe with wide lapels, was in the process of ushering two nineteen-year-olds out of her office. "So, each of you rewrite your paper and get them in to me next Monday. OK?"

They agreed to whatever this implied and scuttled off. I could hear them whispering as soon as they thought they were out of earshot, around the corner.

"Hi, Burt. Hello, Lieutenant." We were in luck. There were no further students waiting. "Some chore Susan's stuck me with."

"Guess she just doesn't want to have anything to do with the affair, and you were the obvious person." I had a sudden thought. "What's happening with funeral arrangements?"

Billings responded: "There were several Gillespies in and around Chicago. He was the oldest in the family. No problems about the body, so the coroner released it last Wednesday. It must be there by now." He looked relieved. "So none of us has to go to the funeral." He turned to Alice. "I can give you the keys to the house and car right now. We're not done with the office yet. But I'd appreciate it if you'd let Professor Diver accompany you."

"Sure, why?"

"Normally, we'd ask an officer to look over your shoulder, just in case something comes up. But Professor Diver was there with me last week. And he's not connected with this Department. I can assign an officer -- a policewoman -- if you prefer."

Alice gave me a funny smile, "Still playing detective?"

"Guess so."

"Walk over there now?"

I looked at my watch. 2:30. "Let me leave a note for Jim. I'm supposed to meet him at three." She agreed and I left the two of them, found Jim's office and left him a note saying that I'd phone him in the evening. When I got back to Alice's, Billings was visibly edgy.

"Well, I'll be on my way. If there's anything relevant, call the police number right away. The phone at the house should still work." He turned to Alice. "You didn't have it turned off, did you?"