Failure is Fatal (26 page)

“Now the next step is to talk with Detective Pasquis.” I sent him off upstairs with some of Guy's clothes and told him where the bath towels were. When I heard the shower turn on, I dialed Der's number.

“You owe me one,” I said into the phone when Der answered. “I've got your fugitive in my house, and I'm cleaning him off for you.”

Der's cruiser appeared in my drive a short time later. He didn't knock, but rushed through the kitchen door, shouting about my “stupidity.” His ranting coupled with his arms rotating about his head like a giant human windmill set Sam to barking and me to shouting in return. Ryan sat meekly and quietly on the couch.

“Guys,” Ryan finally said in a low voice. We paid no attention to him. “Guys,” he said a little louder. Again he could not be heard over the din of angry voices and dog barks. “Guys!” he yelled. Der and I turned toward him in surprise.

“Guys, can we get this over with? I'm exhausted.”

We took a seat, Der and I focusing on Ryan. He repeated his story about his relationship with Marie and the note threatening him just prior to his disappearance.

“We also know that Dr. Melvin Chaffee is the fraternity's advisor and that you went to him for help in writing the stories to be inserted in Dr. Murphy's research,” Der said.

“I made up some story about a fraternity prank, but he blew me off, didn't want to get involved. Too busy. I'm not surprised. He's not what I would call a really great guy, but if he knew the whole story behind my request, he probably would have told campus security.”

Or maybe not. Chaffee was anything but forthright.

“Who did you tell about the stories?” I said.

“I told Marie, and she thought it was an awful prank. She wanted me to blow the whistle on the fraternity, but Adam would have been furious with me if I didn't get someone to write those stories and go along with the joke. But I don't get it. What do all these stories have to do with Marie's death? She was terrified of someone, that I know, and I also know she saw that person just before she was killed. But I don't get your interest in the stories in the research. That was a fraternity joke on you, Dr. Murphy.”

“There was another story inserted in the research, Ryan, one that links the fraternity to Marie's murder. You don't know what I'm talking about?” said Der.

Ryan looked genuinely baffled at Der's question.

“So who wrote the stories, Ryan?” Der said. “You? You told us that Dr. Chaffee wouldn't help. You could have done it alone. Why the big deal over having some English professor help with them?”

“The Pledge Committee thought it was a good idea to get an ‘expert' to write the stories so that they would sound better, lend a note of authority and drama to the endings,” Ryan said.

Der pressed for an answer to his question. “So did you decide to write the stories yourself so that you wouldn't have to tell the Pledge Committee you failed?”

“No way!” Ryan said, his voice trembling. “Dr. Chaffee suggested someone.”

Why that lying little skunk. He conveniently forgot to tell us he sent Ryan elsewhere.

“Who?” said Der.

“Dr. Chaffee sent me to one of his graduate students, Chancey Wainwright. But I saw all the stories he wrote for us. There wasn't anything about Marie's murder in there.”

“I don't suppose there was, at least not in the ones you or the Pledge Committee saw,” Der said. He looked at his watch, stretched and yawned. “Well, that's enough for tonight. You'll have to come with me, Ryan. You can call your parents again from my office.”

Ryan looked frightened.

“Go on, Ryan. You've created quite a mess by running off. You'll need to clear that up. It'll just be for tonight and you'll be safe at the station,” I said.

Turning in the doorway, Der asked if I could manage a trip into town the next day to talk with Chancey Wainwright.

“You bet. Let's see if we can catch him before he runs off for Thanksgiving. He's got a lot of explaining to do about those stories.”

We arranged to meet at Chancey's office at nine in the morning.

*

“How's Ryan doing this morning?” I caught Der in the hallway near Chancey's office.

“His parents arrived earlier. Usually a night in jail encourages an individual to be pretty truthful, but I have a feeling Ryan told us about all that he could. I informed him that he needed to hang around here for a while, at least until I can thoroughly check out his story. I've got some men up at that cabin he stayed in. I don't want him back at the fraternity because their role in all of this is unclear. He's going to stay with some friends of his parents who live around here.”

The door to Chancey's office stood slightly ajar. I knocked and opened the door wider to see him at his desk. He looked up from his work and started to rise from his chair.

“No need to get up. We're just here to ask you some questions about those stories you wrote for the fraternity.” Der entered the office, filling most of the space with his large frame.

“How did you find out?” Chancey's voice was shaking.

“Not important how, but what is important is why you did it. Did you know what they were going to be used for?” I asked.

“Yeah, I knew, but I was offered some money to write them. Graduate assistant's pay is not great, you know.”

“Do you have copies of what you wrote?” said Der.

“On my computer, sure. I can print the whole file out for you, if you'd like.”

Der nodded his assent, and with a few keystrokes, Chancey's printer began producing a number of pages of script. Der took the pile of papers out of the printer when it finished and examined them.

“You'll find this one particularly interesting, Laura.” He handed the final sheet in the stack to me. It was the description of the murder.

“What?” said Chancey.

“What did you say you were writing your thesis on?” said Der.

“The literary works of nineteenth century naturalists, wasn't it?” I said.

Chancey nodded his head up and down.

“Like the work of Charles Darwin, perhaps? I think we've found our extra subject in your research, Laura, and here I thought Darwin was long dead.”

*

After Der took Chancey into custody for additional questioning about the murder and back to his office, Der and I headed to the fraternity house, eager to get closure on the brothers' role in the story writing episode. For Der, finding all the guys involved in the prank meant he could proceed with the appropriate criminal charges. But in my case, I wanted a face-to-face meeting with Adam Stokes again. I had a few unanswered questions about the viciousness of the prank they played on me.

When we arrived at the fraternity house, many of the guys had left for the break. Adam was still there, packing for his trip home. Der confronted him with the information about Chancey's role in the story writing episode, outlining the possible legal ramifications of the fraternity's involvement in events surrounding Marie Becca's death. Adam appeared unruffled by Der's threat to prosecute members of the fraternity including himself. He merely picked up his cell phone and made a call, then sat back in his desk chair with a smug grin on his face.

“Dad? I'll be needing Harold to do some business for me. I'll explain when I get home.” He hung up and stared at Der and me. “As for what the rest of the guys may do about their role in all of this, I can't say. I'm not really interested. Harold, my dad's lawyer, will take care of any charges brought against me personally. And I'll call national's legal department and see what they'll do for the fraternity's liability. You don't have a case. Playing a prank on a faculty member? That's hardly a criminal offense. And no one here can be held responsible for what Chancey Whats-his-name might have done. Now, you two better get out of here, unless you intend arresting me. I've got packing to finish and then I'm off.” He turned his back on us and continued to pull clothes out of his drawers and place them in a suitcase.

“You go ahead, Der. I want a few words with Adam alone,” I said.

Der smiled and left the room.

“I don't have time now. I'm busy, as you can see.” Adam continued to toss items into his suitcase.

“This will only take a few minutes, Adam. You're a pretty bright boy, and that was a damn clever little prank you played on me. It hit right at the heart of what's most important to me in my work—ethical, well-designed research that harms no one and advances our knowledge. It was more than personal embarrassment. You tried to humiliate me professionally. I don't get it. This feels bigger than merely a fraternity playing a little prank.”

“Wouldn't you like to know the whole story?” Adam whirled around to confront me. “On second thought, maybe I will tell you. David Farone, my stepbrother, remember him?”

I thought the name sounded somewhat familiar, but I couldn't recall anything about the person.

“David came to college here about four years ago, but he never graduated, because of you.”

I continued to shake my head. None of this was making any sense.

“David flunked your Introductory Psychology course, and you can't even remember him?”

My inability to recall David or his performance in my course seemed to further enrage Adam. He slammed his closet door and strode across the room toward me. As with Adam's physical confrontation with me before, I felt afraid, unable to predict just what he might do. He towered over me, his face mere inches from my own.

“You flunked him, and that put him out of school. He never graduated because of your course! And you don't remember, and you don't even care!” Spit flew from his mouth and landed on my forehead. I carefully backed away from him, taking a tissue from my purse and wiping my forehead.

“In the first place,” I said in an even tone of voice, “I usually have over one hundred students in my introductory courses and that was, as you say, four years ago. I might not remember a person, especially if he never came to my office for an individual conference. I don't recall that he did. Besides, a single failing grade never puts anyone out of school. He'd have to have been failing other courses as well.” I walked over to the wastebasket and threw the soiled tissue into it. “So that's why you decided to play your cruel prank on me.” I stood well to the other side of the room prepared to bolt out the door if Adam evidenced any further anger.

He appeared to be calmer now. “Right. I figured it was time for you to suffer a little. The beauty of it was that you never knew what was going on. How was I to know that Chancey would use the stories for his own ends? Signing the consent form with the name ‘Charles Darwin' was pure genius. Got to respect the guy's mind, twisted as it probably is.”

“But that name tripped him up. It was just one more indication that he killed Marie you know. How brilliant can that be?” I said.

“Oh, right, right. Not so smart in the end. But we all had a good time watching you, Dr. Murphy. Terrified your research would be ended and the results contaminated by those stories. What a laugh for us.” Adam sat down in the chair behind the desk, laughter replacing the earlier anger.

“Did you really think you'd never be found out?” I said.

“Who cares? It was fun, lots of fun. And what you don't know is that I was going to use your research assistant Karen against you. I stopped by your lab one day to ask her out, but the phone rang in your office, and she dashed out of the lab to answer it forgetting to lock the lab door. I stepped in and saw all these papers on sexual harassment. It was the beginning of my idea for the prank. Didn't even have to ask Karen out. She's too serious about college for my taste anyway.”

“Laura,” called Der's voice up the stairs. “Are you about finished here? I've got to get back to the office.”

Adam arose from his chair, closed his suitcase and turned to me with a smile on his face. “I'll bet the worst that will happen to the fraternity is that the college will pull official recognition. Big deal. Think about it, Dr. Murphy. Our little prank not only made a real mess of your research, but we got away with it and will only suffer a slap on the wrist. What a grand semester this has been!” Adam lifted the strap of his bag to his shoulder and left the room. His comment about the college's action against the fraternity bothered me.

Adam seemed so cavalier about the possibility of the college pulling official recognition. I'd have to look into that. Somehow I just couldn't let Adam Stokes get away with all of this and not suffer some penalty.

“Be right there,” I shouted down the stairway to Der. I carefully made my way down the steps, favoring my ankle and thinking about Adam's brother, David Farone. “Drop me at my office, Der. I need to check my files.”

“Unpleasant little chap, isn't he?” said Der once we were in the car.

I merely nodded, lost in thoughts of the past.

“What do you think the college will do to the fraternity?” said Der.

“What do you think the law will do?”