Formula for Murder (24 page)

She riffled through the books. “They’re still here where I dropped them.” As Stephanie walked forward with the pile, Kat saw the green notebook and prayed. She gingerly removed it and read the cover. It merely said, Charles J. Abbott, Journal.

“Sorry about that.” Stephanie said. She nodded toward the book. “Kind of important, huh?”

Kat and Nick worked their way carefully back to the door. “It’s O.K. Steph. Thanks for the help.”

As they walked down the hall Nick spoke for the first time. His amazement still evident. “I need to get out and around the students more.”

“What do you mean?”

“Is that what they’re all like these days?”

Kat noticed his shocked expression and laughed. “What got to you? The Da-Glo hair, the piercings? Or the tongue barbell?”

“You’re kidding me? She had one there, too?”

“You’d be surprised. A lot of the kids have them.”

Nick shook his head but remained silent till they were in the car. He turned to Kat who was reverently holding the notebook and avoiding his gaze.

“Richard’s going to tear into me. Let’s get it over with.”

She prayed that for once Richard went home for the evening but she spied his car in the lot, and dragged her feet all the way to his office.

“May the saints be praised, Katharine, you found the journal!” Richard said. The scene in his office didn’t start out too bad, Kat thought while hoping he wouldn’t ask for details. He did, of course. She explained that Stephanie found the journal mixed in with her other textbooks. Just hadn’t gotten around to looking till now. She could see the questions pop into his mind before she’d finished speaking.

“I’m not feeling well. Nick, why don’t you explain to Richard while I uh. . .leave,” she said slowly rising from her chair by the door.

Without voicing a word Nick conveyed with his steady gaze and raised eyebrow what he thought of the idea. Richard’s eyes roamed back and forth between the two, trying to read the unspoken currents. Kat plopped awkwardly back into the chair indicating reluctant acknowledgement of Nick’s silent command to stay. Richard nodded encouragingly, but didn’t dare voice his approval over Kat’s acquiescence.

Nick did, however, aid her by retelling her story somewhat compassionately. Richard wasn’t buying.

“Katharine this is unconscionable. God, I wish I could have your license revoked. You never took any advice from your dad or me. Why did you have to listen about the PI stuff? Richard sorted through the files tumbling over his desk looking for the Abbott folder. Nick raised that questioning eyebrow at Kat, not knowing whether he should voice his confusion.

Kat whispered, “I was going to be a private investigator. He and dad talked me out of it.”

“And that makes him unhappy?”

“Yeah, now when Richard gets mad at me he can’t threaten to have my license revoked because I don’t have one. I’m strictly amateur. He has to appeal to my common sense.”

“Katharine, this has got to stop. Your father would roll over in his grave at this one.”

“Richard, you know my father isn’t dead!”

“Might as well be,” he mumbled, sorting through the file for the information about the journal. Nick seemed surprised at that comment, knowing that they had been close friends. He tipped his head sideways toward Richard and raised that eyebrow at her again.

“Dad and mom moved to a
Florida
retirement community last year,” she explained to Nick, with her hand on the side of her mouth as if whispering. “Richard considers that tantamount to death.”

“OK, here’s where we are with the research.” He studied the notes a bit longer and sighed. “No where. None of the students had the whole picture. The chairman had an understanding of the goal but no real comprehension of how far Professor Abbott had progressed.”

They all frowned in defeat. Kat felt some security in maintaining silence. This was not the time to make herself noticed.

Richard flipped through a couple of pages.

“Oh, Nick, I checked out Carlos Alvarez like you suggested. The treasurer gave him an immaculately clean slate. Said there was no signs of fraud ever. I got an education there, I’ll tell you. She said all audits came in clean as a whistle. I didn’t realize so many schools had been having problems with overpayment of grant money. Apparently hundreds of thousands of government money was siphoned off at other universities that way.”

Fortunately Nick asked the question uppermost in her mind. “What excuse did he have for hovering around Kat’s office the day that note was left?”

“He said he wanted to respond to her note. You remember the personal notes she sent out with the invitations trying to entice the killer to have a go at her?”

Kat jumped to her own defense. There was a time to be silent and a time to speak up for oneself. “You know that’s not what the note said. It was merely an invitation to hear our noted speaker!”

Richard bristled but ignored her remark. “Carlos said he wanted to bring his wife, Maria, to the lecture but he had some questions. Wanted to know if they could get special parking and seats. Said she had little strength yet and couldn’t walk far but that she might enjoy being a part of the activities.”

“But Kat wasn’t there.”

“Right, so he said he decided it would be easier to contact someone else. Said a note was too complicated. Besides, he said he wanted to take care of it that day if he could.”

She wasn’t disappointed Carlos and Maria had been cleared. Carlos was a strange duck, but she didn’t want to think of him as a murderer.

Richard went back to his lists.

“We haven’t found anyone who could interpret the journal, though the chair said he’d try. I’ll show it to him tomorrow.”

In an attempt to help Kat out of the hot water, Nick reminded Richard of Kat’s idea of having the renowned visiting chemist check it out. Richard agreed to meet with them the day of his arrival, but didn’t hesitate to blister Kat’s ears as they left.

Chapter 22

The formation of an ending stroke gives a clue to the manner in which the writer relates to goals. A prolonged ending to fill space suggests determination, suspicion, maybe even possessiveness.

“Handwriting Analysis: The Complete Basic Book”

by Karen Amend and Mary Ruiz

The highly visible security car, emblazoned with
Mountain View
University
on the side, screeched up to the airport terminal and Mark Raub raced inside. He felt obligated to explain the security situation to Michael Covello right from the beginning. But he’d play it cool.

Nonchalance looked more convincing if you weren’t racing through the airport, he thought. Once at the gate he’d check his stride and straighten his tie, while planning his speech. Just because Charlie Abbott was murdered and Suzanne Mishkin was assaulted, didn’t mean all scientists on campus were in danger, but he did feel bound to inform the Nobel Prize winner about the incidents. First, he’d stress the increased security precautions for his two-day visit.

Mark reached the gate as Covello exited through the security area and the director thanked the stars for the slightly delayed arrival. Mark glanced at the photo Nick provided of Michael Covello. It helped immensely. The robust man in sweater and jeans exuded life and looked more like a longshoreman than the few chemistry professors Mark knew. The next few minutes would be difficult, explaining why they hadn’t informed him of the murder until now. They’d had a couple of weeks, after all, if they’d really wanted to let him know ahead of time. Of course, it was all over the news. Mark could say they assumed he’d heard or they would have notified him earlier.

Mark walked over to Covello, showed his badge, and introduced himself. He explained that Nick was parking the car and would be with them shortly. He walked with him to the baggage terminal and chatted about the flight.

Mark’s old guard days came to fore as he visually searched the area for anyone out of place. Weary travelers watched the carousel jerk to one more halt. Covello must be having a lucky day, he mused, as the professor’s battered suitcase immediately made it’s way around to their side of the conveyor.

Nick arrived and briskly shook hands. “I’m Nick Donnelly, acting director of public relations and here to welcome you on behalf of the president. Delighted you could come and enlighten the campus.”

Michael returned the handshake aggressively and laughed. “I doubt if there will be too many light bulbs flashing when I speak but I’m happy to throw some illumination out for the few interested. I also have some down to earth analogies for the stragglers who are kind enough to show up despite the topic.”

They walked across the median to the short-term parking. Michael basked in the sunshine and was in no hurry to rush to the car. “What marvelously crisp weather. And sun. Couldn’t ask for more. I’ve just come from
England
.”

Mark took that as a cue and informed the professor of the situation on campus. Michael didn’t hesitate, walking sharply forward as if murder was on the agenda every day. He seemed more intrigued with the situation than annoyed. He popped off one question after another, keeping Nick and Mark busy sugarcoating answers.

Thanks to Nick’s quick call, Kat was ready with Richard Burrows and the security guard assigned to the speaker when the Covello entourage entered Nick’s office. Mark introduced Michael to Karl Peterson, the security guard, and excused himself. Karl chatted with the professor for a couple of minutes and then retreated to the background. Covello seemed to take to the tall Swede, which would make the close relationship easier. Nick wasn’t positive a guard was called for, but the university needed to provide a strong image of protection.

Burrows produced the journal and explained what insights he hoped to find. Michael leapt at the challenge, his eyes sparkling as he questioned Burrows, Raub, and Nick in turn on details.

“We’ve put you in a campus apartment, just a few blocks from here. You have a little time before the other professors gather to meet you.” As he spoke, Nick opened the door and motioned Santora in. “Simon, Michael Covello. Michael, this is Simon Santora, the chair of the chemistry department. He’s responsible for your visit here and will give you the day’s itinerary.”

The boisterous conversation a few minutes later drifted out of Nick’s office with them, leaving Nick and Kat to breathe a sigh of relief that the first step was over. As she left, Nick walked behind his desk and casually said, “By the way, I invited Sloan to sit at the head table with us tonight at the dinner. I’ll pick her up in the limo and meet you at Michael Covello’s apartment at 6:30; we’ll all drive to the dinner together, OK?”

Kat’s hackles rose and her right eyebrow jumped up before she could control it but Nick was studiously looking at his desk and fortunately didn’t notice. “I’ll be there, boss.” It was the best she could manage without showing her claws, and quickly busied herself at her own desk. She was seeing red for so long that she at first didn’t notice the nondescript envelope tucked beneath the top article. It wasn’t really buried in the rubble, just hidden enough to not be obvious at first. She knew she hadn’t left it there. Maybe someone had brought it in while she’d been out. Strange. No name on it. Kat ripped it open viciously, picturing the killer getting his kicks tormenting her. The note startled her from her reverie.

It was a very polite threat, as threats go, but the intent was clear, nonetheless, at least to her because it was handwritten. She was to back off. It was malevolent rather than spiteful; full of hatred rather than mischief. The part that said, “The police won’t catch me. I’ve done nothing wrong,” made no sense to her. Was this really Charlie’s killer threatening her? If so, how could he claim no wrongdoing? Did the prolonged ending strokes reveal tenacity and determination—to do what?

Maybe it was just someone who hated her, but then the reference to the police was unclear. Besides, she’d been avoiding anything even remotely adventurous to mollify Nick. And his tacky move with Sloan just proved how little that accomplished. He obviously didn’t want to “guard” her any more. She’d noticed he’d become busier lately and less inclined to linger and drive her back to his place for dinner or whatever. So be it. There was no way she’d bother him with this note. He was too taken with the blatant seductress Sloan to want her more subtle relationship. Why else would she be accompanying them? It looks like I wasted that $250 on a dress he won’t even be looking at, she fumed to herself while trying to look like she was working.