Read Online The Memorial Hall Murder by Jane Langton - Free Book Online Page B

along the path. He speeded up the film still more, and now they were merely pale mothlike figures, streaks of color, whizzing back and forth, class after class, generation after generation, century after century, while the massive houses stood fixed and permanent, their brick chimneys poking through time. Homer wondered pompously to himself whether the fleeting streaks of color were of any use or value at all, those moths existing but for a day, dashing themselves headlong at the flickering lamp of learning. He didn’t know. He couldn’t swear to it. He felt a little dim and uncertain himself, fumbling around the corner of Grays Hall, looking for the office of the Harvard Police.
    He was just going to get a report on things from Harvard Police, and pass it along to the Overseers. That was all he would do. Because it really wasn’t his responsibility in any way. He was really out of it. He would just get a general picture of the overall situation and pass it along to Mrs. Chamberlain and the rest of them at ten o’clock in University Hall.
    It was clear that the incident was over. Except for the awful fact of the death of Ham Dow, the bomb had hardly disturbed the calm of the university. Donald Maderna’s crew had cleaned things up and opened the building, and they were beginning to rebuild the floor. Professor Parker’s immense classes in The Great Age of Athens had been forced across the street to the Lowell Lecture Hall only once. Students were taking shortcuts through Memorial Hall once again, dodging around Maderna’s sawhorses, finding their way in the dim light of the chandeliers even in the daytime, because the windows were darkened with huge sheets of plywood. Things were pretty much back to normal.
    The door to the Harvard Police Department was down a flight of basement stairs. Homer opened the door, trying to remember the name of the man in charge. It was something Dickensian. Marley, that was it. Like Marley’s ghost, clanking his chain up the steps to Scrooge’s bedchamber, crying, Ebeneeeezer , Ebeneeeezer.

    The girl at the counter looked up at Homer. “Mr.…?”
    â€œScrooge,” said Homer. “No, no, I’m sorry. Kelly. Homer Kelly. I have an appointment with Mr. Marley.”
    â€œOh, yes, go right in, Mr. Kelly. Mr. Marley’s office is at the end of the hall to the right.” The girl had to speak up over the noise of the police radio in the switchboard behind her.
    Peter Marley stood up as Homer entered his office. “Come right in, Mr. Kelly. I’ve been wanting to tell you how glad I was to meet you last week. I mean, I read all about that case out in Concord. And that girl on Nantucket during the eclipse of the sun, the one who—”
    â€œOh, no, my God, never mind. I tripped all over my own big feet both times. Hideous mistakes. Ghastly errors. And I’m staying out of this one altogether. But I’m supposed to make some kind of explanation to the Overseers. Mrs. Chamberlain, she’s asked me to tell them whether or not I think Harvard’s going to get blown off the map.”
    â€œOh, no, I don’t think so, do you? We’re not worried about it. Of course, we’ve had a few false alarms since last Wednesday, but they didn’t amount to anything. We get them all the time. Here, take a look.” Peter Marley picked up a computer printout from his desk and showed it to Homer. It was an index of police statistics for the week, and the kinds of crimes were listed separately: HOMICIDE, ASSAULT, ROBBERY, RAPE, OBSCENE CALL, BOMB THREAT, BREAK & ENTER, BUILDING TAKEOVER …
    â€œBuilding takeover.” Homer laughed. “Well, I guess you people have your own special little problems in your war against crime.”
    â€œLook here, under ‘Bomb Threat,’” said Marley. “Seven of them. Of course, the one in Memorial Hall wasn’t a threat, it was the real thing. But the others