Phi Beta Murder (6 page)

“Oh, aye.” Breaking out of his trance, Campbell rose from the futon and shook hands with Mr. Clark. “Thanks for the loan of the cottage and the boat.”

Mr. Clark nodded. “Glad to see them go to good use.”

Melodie gazed inquiringly at her dad from where she knelt on the floor.

“This is Campbell, and his father, Rex Graves. They’ll be spending the weekend in Islamorada.”

Melodie smiled weakly at Campbell. “Hope you have a nice time. It’s beautiful down there.”

Campbell looked at his feet. For the first time, to Rex’s knowledge, he seemed at a loss for words in front of a girl. And then he did something surprising. Crossing the room, he crouched down in front of Mrs. Clark and took her in his arms. Rex turned away as tears pricked his eyes.

“My dear boy,” he heard the mother say. “Thank you so much.”

Campbell stood up and, with a quick goodbye to Melodie and Mr. Clark, left the room.

“He lost his mother when he was fifteen,” Rex murmured by way of explanation before following his son out the door. Catching up with him, he put an arm around his son’s shoulder. “You okay, lad?”

“I hope I didn’t act like an idiot in there. It just seemed like the natural thing to do.”

“Then it was the right thing to do. I think Mrs. Clark appreciated it. She’s probably been thinking how hard it’s going to be not to feel her son’s arms around her again. Come on. I could do with some coffee.”

Rex felt he could really do with something stronger, but coffee would have to suffice. He needed all his wits about him if he hoped to make headway in Dixon Clark’s death by the end of the week.

“Thank God for this
place,” Campbell said to his father as they stepped out of the campus Einstein Bros. “I could live on these cinnamon raisin bagels. In fact, I practically do.”

They sat on the circular wall of a fountain and sipped their coffee while students sauntered past in animated groups, carrying textbooks and binders under their arms.

“Did you notice her eyes?” Campbell asked.

“Whose?”

“Melodie’s. They’re violet.”

“I noticed she had a very expressive face. I thought her parents were an attractive couple. They seem like very nice people.”

“Poor old Dix must have lost out in the gene pool. Not that he was bad-looking, but Melodie … wow.” Campbell bit thoughtfully into his bagel.

Rex wondered if this meant the swan song for Consuela and the Cuban mob. “What is BU?”

“Boston University.”

“That’s rather far, isn’t it?”

Campbell thumbed a glob of strawberry cream cheese off the side of his mouth. “It’s in Massachusetts.”

“Like I said. Far.”

“It’s not as though I was going to ask her out.”

Rex slid him a look. “I just wondered because you have that dreamy look in your eyes.”

“I admit I was smitten, but she’s in mourning. Even if I wanted to—and Consuela wasn’t in the picture—it would be totally inappropriate.”

Water trickled soothingly from the fountain behind them as they sat in companionable silence for a while, watching industrious squirrels forage among the blooms of a tall red maple.

“This place is overrun with squirrels,” Rex noted.

“Raccoons too.”

“It’s grand that the Clarks are letting us have the cottage. It simplifies our weekend plans no end. I just hope this investigation isn’t going to interfere with your studies.”

“It won’t. What do you want me to do to help?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll probably just be sounding you out about things. We’ll see how it goes. First, I’d like to speak to the faculty member who would know Dixon best.”

“Try Astra Knowles, the school registrar. You’ll find her in that building back there. She knows everybody. Can you ask her about the school bereavement policy while you’re at it?”

“What do you mean by a bereavement policy?”

“It’s when they make academic concessions for the students who knew the deceased …” Campbell seemed embarrassed, as well he should be, Rex thought. “The boys were discussing it.”

“The lad’s dead, and you lot are trying to find ways of taking advantage?”

“I know … but most colleges have some sort of policy. We’re just curious.”

Growling in disapproval, Rex stood up. “Say we meet back at your room at five?”

“Sounds good. I have band rehearsal this evening so we won’t be able to have dinner. At least, not until late.”

“That’s okay—I wouldn’t mind going back to the motel and having an early night.”

Much would depend on whether he got hold of Ms. Knowles, and what he could find out about Dixon. His parents had entrusted him with an important task and he was determined not to let them down.

Fortunately, Astra Knowles was available and able to see him right away. A statuesque woman of middle years, she wore a white blouse billowing over a long batik skirt, and silver hoop earrings.

“I understand you want to see me about Dixon Clark,” she said with a puzzled look on her smooth brown face.

“I’m here
in loco parentis.
Mr. and Mrs. Clark asked me to look into possible motives for their son’s suicide.”

“You’re a friend of theirs?”

“I was referred,” Rex said evasively. “I’m a lawyer back home in Scotland. But I do investigative work on an
ad hoc
basis.”

“You like Latin phrases, huh?” Ms. Knowles smiled in amusement.

“I have the Clarks’ number if you wish to verify,” Rex said, a trifle discomfited that she might find him pompous.

She gestured for him to sit down. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll try and be as helpful as I can without stepping outside my job description. Love your accent, by the way. It’s cute.”

“Er-hm, thank you.”

He settled into a metal-legged chair across from her desk. Tall file cabinets of monotonous gray surrounded the desk on three sides, many of them punctuated by incongruously decorative fridge magnets depicting all manner of things from fruit to fish, some of them appended with notes.

“These file cabinets are my babies,” the registrar said, following his gaze. “I been at Hilliard twenty-three years. Ain’ nothing I don’ know about scholastic policy. You ask me for a student’s academic record, I can put my hands on it in under a minute. Now, you probably looking around thinking, ‘Bureaucracy! I’m gonna be stonewalled by rules and regulations ’til I can’t see straight!’ But see here?” Astra Knowles pointed to a plaque on the wall. “ ‘Efficiency NOT Bureaucracy!’ That’s the code I live by.”

Rex felt not so much stonewalled as marshmallowed. He was getting nowhere, but in the pleasantest possible way. “Did you have much interaction with Dixon?” he asked.

“Some. This is a small college. I know most students, if only by sight. Most of the boys I know by name. They’re the ones I see most.”

“Do you know a Ray?”

“Got a last name?”

Rex shook his head.

“Yeah, boys are the worst offenders,” Ms. Knowles remarked, shaking her tight black curls. “They come in here all the time begging to drop out of classes if the going gets tough. Give them an easy way out and they’ll take it. They find a class where they don’t have to write papers, they jump into it like lemmings. When a website called StudentSpace.com went live, listing the softest graders and the easiest courses to pass, there was an epidemic of transfer requests. But I do have a special place in my heart for boys, having two of my own—grown men now. Lazy as the day is long, they were, but they doing all right for themselves now.”

“Was Dixon a good student?” He would start with the basics and see how far he could get.

“Average. He definitely benefited from the small classes we have here at Hilliard. But he was a D bordering on F in math.”

“Did he request a transfer?”

“Sure did, but I couldn’t get him out of his class as David Green’s was full.”

“So he stayed with Mr. Cormack.” Rex leaned forward in his chair. “How can I reach his math professor?”

“I’ll see if I can get him for you.” Referring to a typed pull-out list of names on her desk phone, she punched in a number. “Al? Astra here. There’s a gentleman in my office named Rex Graves who would like a word with you about Dixon Clark … Sure thing, hon. Thanks.” She replaced the receiver. “He’s on his way.”

“Thank you. I also wanted to ask you about another student, Kris Florek, a nursing major.”

“I have the School of Nursing files right here. Has this something to do with Dixon Clark?”

“She was his girlfriend.”

Ms. Knowles hesitated at an alphabetized file cabinet. “I ain’t authorized to give out information on just any student. Dixon Clark’s case is different, since you are acting for his parents and the poor kid is dead.”

“I understand.” Rex decided not to risk pushing his luck. “What is the policy regarding students who were close to the deceased?”

“You mean a bereavement consideration?”

“Aye—credits for non-attendance and such.”

“We have guidelines, but each case is judged on its own merit.”

“Have you had many cases of suicide?”

“Only one other in my time here. It happened off campus. A student jumped from a building. Usually, concessions are only made for a roommate or a girlfriend or boyfriend. But we have grief counselors available for all affected students.”

“What sort of concessions would those be?”

“A passing grade for the semester if needed. We don’t want to add to a student’s duress and have to deal with another tragedy.”

At that moment, a young man in pressed jeans and a blue striped shirt entered the office.

“Al, this is Mr. Graves. I have an errand to run down the hall. Take my chair, hon.”

Mr. Cormack sat opposite Rex and smiled pleasantly. “How can I be of help?”

“I’m here at the request of Dixon Clark’s parents who, understandably, are trying to comprehend the reason or reasons behind their son’s suicide.”

“And you think it might be because he was failing in math?” Cormack asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I want to determine what sort of pressure he might have been under in general. Studies, girlfriend, peers, finances, anything at all.”

“Well, I don’t think blame can be put on me. I try to be fair. If I see a kid struggling but coming to class and turning in his work, I bend over backward to give him or her a passing grade, or at least a bit of latitude with regard to retaking a test.”

“Did Dixon try?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“And yet he was a borderline F.”

Cormack’s face reddened. “Okay, but he got the grades he deserved.”

“Meaning?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I’m simply trying to get at the truth.”

“The truth is Dixon Clark got another student in trouble for something he didn’t do, and he wasn’t man enough to own up to it. I don’t reward bad ethics.”

“Would you care to elaborate?”

Cormack fidgeted with a cube container of paper clips on Astra Knowles’ desk. “Another student of mine got busted for dealing drugs and was suspended. There was no proof beyond Clark’s camera phone video. Turned out it could not have been R.J. on it. But he was expelled anyway, mainly on Clark’s say-so. And because he was unable to explain why he couldn’t get his hands on the hoodie he owned, supposedly the one on the video.”

“But wasn’t it Dixon’s job as a resident assistant to report drug activity?”

“It’s part of his job, sure, but R.J. was acquitted by a jury, and I felt the university should’ve gone with the verdict. Instead they sided with Clark. R.J. Wylie was an A student in math, although he was actually a chemistry major. I strongly opposed the university’s decision and almost got fired.”

Cormack was practically hyperventilating now. He looked at his watch and excused himself. “I’m meeting my girlfriend. Good luck.”

After he left, Rex sat in his chair pondering the professor’s reaction while he waited for Astra Knowles to return. The Nantucket ditty began to make more sense as he mentally recited it.

There once was a man from Nantucket

Who kept all his stash in a bucket,

A student named Ray

Got framed one day

And the man from Nantucket said fuck-it.

Cormack had said Dixon got R.J. in trouble for something he didn’t do, and wasn’t man enough to come forward.

If one went with the facts, as one must, there could be no doubt that Dixon had taken his own life, since the door and window were locked and instructions on how to commit suicide were found on his desk. There was no sign of a struggle in the room or on the body, and no one in the corridor had seen or heard anything suspicious, except that the RA was playing his music louder than usual.

So what had driven Dixon to end his life? Remorse for getting another student in trouble?

After getting nothing further out of Astra Knowles, Rex crossed the campus and returned to Keynes Hall to meet Campbell. He did not have a key to the building, but a student who was entering the main entrance let him in without hesitation when he explained he was a parent. Despite his size, Rex did not present a threatening figure. Helen had described him as cuddly. This reminded him of his resolution to exercise each day that week, regardless of how busy he was. He would do his laps as soon as he got back to the motel.

In the meantime, he ran energetically up the first flight of stairs, walked the next two, and made his way slightly out of breath to his son’s room, where he opened the door and found Campbell and Red waiting for him. The gangly redhead was beating a pair of drumsticks against Campbell’s desk.