Read Online Hangman's Root by Susan Wittig Albert - Free Book Online
Authors: Susan Wittig Albert
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Mystery, Women Detectives, Herbalists, China (Fictitious character), Bayles
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but the very high ceilings gave it an illusion of spaciousness, and the tall casement window behind her littered desk swung open onto a view of the river.
"I doubt that the demonstrators will be able to convince the regents to cut down on animal research," I said, taking the chair that was obviously meant for students who were there to discuss their performance on the last quiz. "Somehow, I can't see univer-sit\' officials turning away grant money."
Dottie's expression grew dark. "That's it exactly, China. Money. The bottom line. In fact, that's why Castle is promoting the new^ complex. Better animal lab facilities will attract more grant dollars." Her tone was acid. "If we're all grubbing for grants, who'll teach the students? Which one of these publish-or-perish yahoos will take a minute from his research to pay attention to a kid who doesn't understand the basics? I'm going to keep hammering away at the principle of this thing, even if Harwick and Castle and the rest get so sick of it they want to shoot me."
I could see w hy Dottie was unpopular among the science faculty. But I understood her passion, just as I understood Amy's. I tended to take their side—at least, as far as I understood the issues. But I wasn't sure the conversation was leading us anywhere. "You mentioned a letter," I prompted.
"Oh, yes." Dottie rummaged for a moment in the litter on her desk—student exams, departmental memos, a hairbrush, hand lotion, copies of the campus newspaper. She found what she was
looking for folded into her grade book. "This is it," she said, thrusting it at me. "Came in campus mail, like the others."
I took the paper gingerly, by the corners. "You've handled it, I suppose.^"
"I had to read it, didn't I?" She passed her hand over her eyes. "Sorry, China. The last couple of days I've felt like a volcano. When I opened the letter, I even blew up at Cynthia." She made a disgusted noise. "Of all people. I should have known better."
"Cynthia Leeds?" The biology department's senior secretary.
"Dr. Castle's henchwoman," Dottie said with emphasis. She made a face. "She's worked for him so long she knows what he wants before he does. She knows her job, but if you ask me, she knows too much. Anyway, she's had it in for me for years, ever since I opposed Castle's nomination for the chairmanship."
McQuaid says that there's a rule of thumb about staff jealousies: the more penny the ante, the higher the intensity of feeling. It was my guess that Cynthia Leeds, like Rose Tompkins, didn't have any real power in the department. What little she had, she used whenever she got the chance. You couldn't really blame her for that. "You told her about the letter?"
"She was standing beside the departmental mailboxes when I opened it. Read it—you'll see why I came unglued."
The letter had only one sentence. "Shut up about the lab and get rid of the cats or you're dead." Short on detail but straight to the point.
I frowned down at the letter. Dottie's voice wasn't the only one raised against the lab. There was a whole crowd of demonstrators on the quad protesting Harwick's experiment and Castle's Castle. "Who else is getting letters like this?" I asked.
"Who else wants to build a cattery on the vacant lot next to Harwick's house?" she asked bitterly.
Her answer begged the question, but I didn't argue. "Do you still have the envelope?"
Wordlessly, Dottie pushed it across the desk. It was a number ten white, plain, hand addressed. I examined it. "Harwick's handwriting?"
"This time he tried to disguise it, but I'm sure it's his." Dottie leaned forward. "Can you get him on this? I mean, the others only threatened to kill my cats. This one threatens to kill me. That's pretty serious, isn't it?"
I looked at her. Something about this situation struck me as peculiar. I liked Dottie, and I sympathized with her. But I was beginning to wonder if I was being used. Had Harwick really sent this letter?
"I'm not the one to 'get him,' Dottie."
"I doubt that the demonstrators will be able to convince the regents to cut down on animal research," I said, taking the chair that was obviously meant for students who were there to discuss their performance on the last quiz. "Somehow, I can't see univer-sit\' officials turning away grant money."
Dottie's expression grew dark. "That's it exactly, China. Money. The bottom line. In fact, that's why Castle is promoting the new^ complex. Better animal lab facilities will attract more grant dollars." Her tone was acid. "If we're all grubbing for grants, who'll teach the students? Which one of these publish-or-perish yahoos will take a minute from his research to pay attention to a kid who doesn't understand the basics? I'm going to keep hammering away at the principle of this thing, even if Harwick and Castle and the rest get so sick of it they want to shoot me."
I could see w hy Dottie was unpopular among the science faculty. But I understood her passion, just as I understood Amy's. I tended to take their side—at least, as far as I understood the issues. But I wasn't sure the conversation was leading us anywhere. "You mentioned a letter," I prompted.
"Oh, yes." Dottie rummaged for a moment in the litter on her desk—student exams, departmental memos, a hairbrush, hand lotion, copies of the campus newspaper. She found what she was
looking for folded into her grade book. "This is it," she said, thrusting it at me. "Came in campus mail, like the others."
I took the paper gingerly, by the corners. "You've handled it, I suppose.^"
"I had to read it, didn't I?" She passed her hand over her eyes. "Sorry, China. The last couple of days I've felt like a volcano. When I opened the letter, I even blew up at Cynthia." She made a disgusted noise. "Of all people. I should have known better."
"Cynthia Leeds?" The biology department's senior secretary.
"Dr. Castle's henchwoman," Dottie said with emphasis. She made a face. "She's worked for him so long she knows what he wants before he does. She knows her job, but if you ask me, she knows too much. Anyway, she's had it in for me for years, ever since I opposed Castle's nomination for the chairmanship."
McQuaid says that there's a rule of thumb about staff jealousies: the more penny the ante, the higher the intensity of feeling. It was my guess that Cynthia Leeds, like Rose Tompkins, didn't have any real power in the department. What little she had, she used whenever she got the chance. You couldn't really blame her for that. "You told her about the letter?"
"She was standing beside the departmental mailboxes when I opened it. Read it—you'll see why I came unglued."
The letter had only one sentence. "Shut up about the lab and get rid of the cats or you're dead." Short on detail but straight to the point.
I frowned down at the letter. Dottie's voice wasn't the only one raised against the lab. There was a whole crowd of demonstrators on the quad protesting Harwick's experiment and Castle's Castle. "Who else is getting letters like this?" I asked.
"Who else wants to build a cattery on the vacant lot next to Harwick's house?" she asked bitterly.
Her answer begged the question, but I didn't argue. "Do you still have the envelope?"
Wordlessly, Dottie pushed it across the desk. It was a number ten white, plain, hand addressed. I examined it. "Harwick's handwriting?"
"This time he tried to disguise it, but I'm sure it's his." Dottie leaned forward. "Can you get him on this? I mean, the others only threatened to kill my cats. This one threatens to kill me. That's pretty serious, isn't it?"
I looked at her. Something about this situation struck me as peculiar. I liked Dottie, and I sympathized with her. But I was beginning to wonder if I was being used. Had Harwick really sent this letter?
"I'm not the one to 'get him,' Dottie."
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