Read Online The Square Root of Murder (Professor Sophie Knowles) by Ada Madison - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ada Madison
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“White frosting, blue icing. And a can of soda. I don’t know which kind,” I added.
Virgil flipped through his notebook. “I don’t see a mention of food or a drink here anywhere in the office.”
“There has to be food there. I saw her leave the lounge with it. It was a very nice gesture on her part. While everyone else was ragging on him, I might add.”
“I’ll check the photos when I get back.”
“Wait. I remember Rachel said Keith didn’t answer her knock. I’ll bet she just left the plate outside his door. Would the photos show that?”
“If there was anything outside the door, yes, it would have been photographed.”
Virgil shot me a sad, tired look. I was amazed he showed no anger or frustration, which, given my performance, I’d have completely understood.
“I’m really grateful to you for coming, Virgil,” I said. “I’m getting concerned that you’ll get no sleep at all tonight if you don’t leave soon. I guess I lost track of the fact that you’re doing me this big favor.” I took a big breath. “I’m just worried about my friend.”
“I understand, Sophie. I didn’t come here for a party.” He held up his nearly empty beer bottle and smiled, barely. “This was a good start, though.”
“Can I get you another one? Or some coffee?” About time I showed my classy side.
“I’m good.”
“I just want you to know I’d like to help Rachel Wheeler. She seems to think you’re zeroing in on her. Maybe she’s wrong?” I checked Virgil’s face for signs of “Bingo, you’re right; she’s wrong.” Nothing. “Or if she is at the top of your list because of something I don’t know yet, maybe you could tell me and I could explain it for you.”
I was out of breath as often happened when I rambled.
Virgil drained his beer then sucked his lips in tight. “We’re withholding one thing. I’m going out on a limb here telling you. But what the heck, I don’t think this is what’s going to be the gotcha.” I moved forward on my seat. “There were papers scattered over and around the victim’s body and throughout the office. Pages and pages of yellow computer paper, eight and a half by eleven sheets, some with typed text, some with diagrams and pictures. They were crinkled up as if someone had thrown them around in anger.”
I thought immediately of Rachel’s thesis. The campus store sold reams of very inexpensive yellow paper that most students used for drafts of their reports that no teacher would see. Once they edited their papers and were ready to submit, they printed on a good white bond paper. I knew Rachel’s thesis was still in the yellow paper stage, though she’d had a series of oral presentations on her data.
“Don’t tell me,” I whispered. I leaned over, put my face in my hands and partly over my ears, and pressed my body farther into the couch, but I could still hear Virgil as plain as day.
“The name at the tops of the pages was R. Wheeler and the pages were bleeding with red pencil corrections and nasty comments.” Virgil shook his head slightly. “It doesn’t look good for your friend.”
I rubbed my eyes and breathed out loudly.
“Can I ask one more question, Virgil? If it’s out of line, just tell me, but doesn’t it look as though Rachel is being framed, that someone wants you to think Rachel killed her teacher? Everyone knows he’s given her a hard time for years, and especially right now, about her thesis.”
Virgil nodded. “I know what you’re thinking. And you have a point. Who leaves the murder weapon and evidence of anger at the scene, practically shouting out ‘me, me.’ But, with the janitor seeing her there, she’s the best we have right now. And sometimes a smart guy will frame himself, so the police will say what you’re saying. We’re looking at all of this, believe me, Sophie.”
He fell just short of saying, “We’re not that dumb,” and I admired his restraint.
I was out of ideas.
“Thanks again for
Virgil flipped through his notebook. “I don’t see a mention of food or a drink here anywhere in the office.”
“There has to be food there. I saw her leave the lounge with it. It was a very nice gesture on her part. While everyone else was ragging on him, I might add.”
“I’ll check the photos when I get back.”
“Wait. I remember Rachel said Keith didn’t answer her knock. I’ll bet she just left the plate outside his door. Would the photos show that?”
“If there was anything outside the door, yes, it would have been photographed.”
Virgil shot me a sad, tired look. I was amazed he showed no anger or frustration, which, given my performance, I’d have completely understood.
“I’m really grateful to you for coming, Virgil,” I said. “I’m getting concerned that you’ll get no sleep at all tonight if you don’t leave soon. I guess I lost track of the fact that you’re doing me this big favor.” I took a big breath. “I’m just worried about my friend.”
“I understand, Sophie. I didn’t come here for a party.” He held up his nearly empty beer bottle and smiled, barely. “This was a good start, though.”
“Can I get you another one? Or some coffee?” About time I showed my classy side.
“I’m good.”
“I just want you to know I’d like to help Rachel Wheeler. She seems to think you’re zeroing in on her. Maybe she’s wrong?” I checked Virgil’s face for signs of “Bingo, you’re right; she’s wrong.” Nothing. “Or if she is at the top of your list because of something I don’t know yet, maybe you could tell me and I could explain it for you.”
I was out of breath as often happened when I rambled.
Virgil drained his beer then sucked his lips in tight. “We’re withholding one thing. I’m going out on a limb here telling you. But what the heck, I don’t think this is what’s going to be the gotcha.” I moved forward on my seat. “There were papers scattered over and around the victim’s body and throughout the office. Pages and pages of yellow computer paper, eight and a half by eleven sheets, some with typed text, some with diagrams and pictures. They were crinkled up as if someone had thrown them around in anger.”
I thought immediately of Rachel’s thesis. The campus store sold reams of very inexpensive yellow paper that most students used for drafts of their reports that no teacher would see. Once they edited their papers and were ready to submit, they printed on a good white bond paper. I knew Rachel’s thesis was still in the yellow paper stage, though she’d had a series of oral presentations on her data.
“Don’t tell me,” I whispered. I leaned over, put my face in my hands and partly over my ears, and pressed my body farther into the couch, but I could still hear Virgil as plain as day.
“The name at the tops of the pages was R. Wheeler and the pages were bleeding with red pencil corrections and nasty comments.” Virgil shook his head slightly. “It doesn’t look good for your friend.”
I rubbed my eyes and breathed out loudly.
“Can I ask one more question, Virgil? If it’s out of line, just tell me, but doesn’t it look as though Rachel is being framed, that someone wants you to think Rachel killed her teacher? Everyone knows he’s given her a hard time for years, and especially right now, about her thesis.”
Virgil nodded. “I know what you’re thinking. And you have a point. Who leaves the murder weapon and evidence of anger at the scene, practically shouting out ‘me, me.’ But, with the janitor seeing her there, she’s the best we have right now. And sometimes a smart guy will frame himself, so the police will say what you’re saying. We’re looking at all of this, believe me, Sophie.”
He fell just short of saying, “We’re not that dumb,” and I admired his restraint.
I was out of ideas.
“Thanks again for
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