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Back Murder Past Due Save as PDF
Chapters (36)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Acknowledgements
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE

“All this is going to generate a lot of publicity for the college and for the town,” I said.

“Sadly, I fear you are correct.” Peter frowned, his distaste evident. “Why the man had to come here to get himself murdered, I simply do not understand.”

Peter colored faintly, perhaps having realized the fatuousness of that remark. I decided to ignore it.

“The whole thing is very odd,” I said. “There are a lot of things I’m curious about. For one thing, that call Godfrey made to say he was too ill to attend the dinner in his honor last night. It seems a little too pat.”

Peter didn’t respond. He just stared at me.

“I wonder if it was Godfrey who really called?”

“Why shouldn’t it be?” Peter said, his fingers tapping on his desk.

I shrugged. “Just a thought. When Melba called me, she said Godfrey had called the president’s office to inform him. Then I guess someone from his office must have called you.”

Peter’s fingers ceased their rhythmless tattoo on his desk. “Actually, that is not quite accurate.”

“Why not?”

“Melba, I’m afraid, somehow misunderstood.” Peter paused for moment. “She quite often does because she fails to listen properly, and I have spoken to her severely on the subject several times.”

I waited, and after a moment he continued.

“You see, I was the one who spoke to Godfrey and who in turn informed the president’s office, at his request.”

NINETEEN

NINETEEN

That was definitely odd. Why would Godfrey call someone in the library, rather than the president’s office?

“When I spoke to him,” Peter continued, “he complained of a rather nasty stomach virus. He regretted the inconvenience—or used words to that effect—and asked me to pass along the word. As I did.” His fingers resumed their tattoo upon the desk.

“Out of curiosity,” I said in a diffident tone, “do you remember what time that was?”

“Around five-thirty, I suppose,” Peter said after a moment’s thought.

“Has anyone from the sheriff’s department spoken with you yet?”

“Whatever for?” Peter paled slightly. “One would not wish to be involved in something so sordid as a murder investigation.”

“No, one wouldn’t,” I said, a wry twist to my voice. “But unfortunately one already is.” I was beginning to lose patience with the man. He was being overly fastidious, in my opinion. “You might have been the last person—barring the killer, of course—to speak to Godfrey. The deputy in charge of the investigation needs to know that.”

“I see.” Peter reached for a glass of water on the credenza behind his desk and took a long swallow. He set the glass down with a hand that trembled. “Then one must do one’s duty.”