Read Online …A Dangerous Thing by Bill Crider - Free Book Online Page B

clearly didn't want to talk about it.
    "What's going on here?" Burns asked.   "What about Henderson and Dawn?"
    "I'm not supposed to say anything about it," Fox told him.   "I don't know how Mal found out."
    "You ought to close your office door when you've got an irate visitor," Tomlin said.   "If you want to keep secrets, that is.   I just happened to be passing by when Walt Melling stormed in the other day."
    "I closed the door as soon as I got a chance," Fox said. "I didn't see you outside it."
    "I must've been standing out of sight," Tomlin said, grinning.   "I didn't hear much after you closed the door, though."
    Burns was curious.   "Just what did you hear?"
    "I can't tell you," Tomlin said.   "Didn't you hear Earl?   It's a secret."
    Burns looked over at Dirty Harry, who was tipped precariously back in his chair, his eyes closed, his mouth half open.
    "There's no one here but us," Burns said.   "And I'm not going to tell anyone."
    "You'd better not," Fox said.   "I haven't, not even Dean Partridge."
    "I bet Walt told her, though," Tomlin said.   He looked at Burns.   "His face was red as a turkey's snout."
    "Why?" Burns asked.   "Will one of you please tell me what's going on around here?"
    "You might as well tell him, Earl," Tomlin said. "He'll find out sooner or later.   He's probably already helping the cops, just like he always does."
    "I'm not helping the cops," Burns protested.   "Boss Napier told me to keep out of it.   I'm just curious."
    "Sure you are," Tomlin said.
    Burns could see it was useless to argue.   "All right, so I'm working with the cops.   Tell me what's going on, Earl, and I'll see to it that Napier doesn't take you down to the station to beat the truth out of you with his bullwhip."
    "All right," Fox said.   "But you didn't hear it from me."   He tossed his cigarette to the floor and crushed it out.
    There were a number of butts scattered around the area, and Mal Tomlin looked down at them.   "If Dean Partridge ever comes in here, our ass is grass."
    Fox looked even more frightened than he had at the mention of Boss Napier's legendary whip.   "Can she tell they're our cigarettes?"
    "Nobody but you would smoke Cost Cutters," Tomlin said.
    Fox bent down and started picking up the butts.   "You two help me with these.   You're in this as deep as I am."
    "Not until you tell me about Walt Melling ," Burns said.   "Then maybe I'll help you."
    Fox straightened, dropping the butts back on the floor and dusting off   his hands.   "All right.   It was last Thursday, just after Assembly.   I was going through my desk to get notes for class when Melling came in.   He was upset, all right.   His face was just about as red as Mal said it was."
    "I thought he was going to have a stroke," Tomlin said. "I mean, he was red ."
    "Why?" Burns asked, though he thought he had a pretty good idea by now.
    "He said that Henderson had been hitting on Dawn," Fox said.   "He said that he was going to, and I'm quoting here, 'beat the little worm to a pulp.'"
    "Why come to you?" Burns asked.
    "Because I'm his department chair," Fox said.   "He wanted me to have a talk with Henderson before the beating was administered.   I got the idea that if I was effective, maybe the beating wouldn't even be necessary."
    "Does Boss Napier know about this?" Burns asked.
    "I didn't tell him," Fox said.   "But I advised Henderson to go to Dean Partridge.   She should know about things like that.   Has Napier talked to her?"
    Burns didn't know.   Things didn't look good for Melling if Partridge remembered Melling's feelings and reported them to Napier, however.
    "What about it, Burns?" Tomlin asked.   "You think it was Melling ?   He could've gone to Henderson's office and confronted him.   Melling's a pretty big guy.   He wouldn't have much trouble knocking a twerp like Henderson through a window."
    "I don't know," Burns said.   " Melling doesn't seem like the type."
    "Anybody's the type," Tomlin