Read Online The Angel and the Jabberwocky Murders by Mignon F. Ballard - Free Book Online

shouldn’t be her business to look after these girls just because she lives in the dorm.”
    â€œI know, but she babies those girls something awful. Should’ve had about ten of her own,” Jo Nell said. “Anyway, Willene said Blythe came back to the dorm sometime before dawn to get the sick girl some fresh pajamas, and one of the students at Emma Harris had left a note on her door about the Hunter girl.”
    Ellis muttered something that sounded like “shit” and threw her stitching aside. “What about her?” she snarled.
    â€œSomebody thought they’d heard her crying and wanted Blythe to check on her, but by then the girl’s room was quiet, so naturally Blythe didn’t want to wake her. Besides, the sick one was over in the infirmary with soiled pajamas and a temperature of a hundred and two.” My cousin eyed Ellis’s wadded-up needlework with a look of dismay. “A person can’t be in two places at once,” she said.
    I said I guessed they couldn’t and put away the last pan. “Why does Blythe Cornelius live in the dorm?” I asked.
    â€œCouldn’t find a place to rent when she started to work there and the college had it available. I don’t think she pays much for it,” Jo Nell said. “And it is convenient. A lot of the staff at Sarah Bedford live in faculty housing. That whole block across from the campus belongs to the college, you know, and then there’s a couple of apartment units as well.”
    â€œIs that where Willene Benson lives?” Ellis asked.
    â€œOh, no. Willene lives right on campus in that little brick building behind administration. Used to be a garage. She and Blythe kind of keep one another company, I think. Blythe came from a big family, but most of her relatives are scattered now. And Willene…well, there’s something a little sad about her. Can’t quite put my finger on it.”
    I told her how Willene had acted when the police came. “Couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I thought she was going to have a nervous breakdown.”
    â€œHigh-strung,” Jo Nell said. “And timid as a mouse.”
    Ellis scowled as she examined the finger she’d stuck with a needle. “If Willene Benson had lived a hundred years ago,” she said, “she’d probably have the vapors.”
    Having had her fill of the local gossip and lemon mystery, my cousin prepared to leave. “You just be careful on that campus, Lucy Nan Pilgrim! No tellin’ who’s lurking around over there. Until they find that professor or whoever’s responsible for that girl’s murder, nobody’s safe anymore.”
    But if Professor Hornsby was responsible for killing D. C. Hunter, why did he wait so long to leave? I wondered.
    â€œMaybe he didn’t think he’d get caught,” Celeste suggested the next day as we measured walnut hulls into an iron pot and added water and salt to set the dye. One of the women who demonstrated spinning at Bellawood had donated skeins of wool for our experiment, only we cheated, using the gas stoves in the Home Economics Department instead of an open fire. When the water was dark enough, we would simmer the yarn until it turned a rich brown.
    Looking thoughtful, Debra, Celeste’s roommate, stirred the potent brew. “Wonder when Paula and Miriam will come back to class. I heard they were so shook up they’ve been excused for the next few days. Just think—it could’ve been one of us. It could’ve been me!”
    â€œYou saw her, didn’t you, Miss Lucy?” Celeste wanted to know. “Did he really…you know…cut her with a sickle? ”
    I closed my eyes against the thought. “I didn’t see any sickle. It was enough to know she was dead.” But I had noticed the plastic container of breath mints that I later heard bore Professor Hornsby’s fingerprints. However, both Paula and