Death in the Secret Garden by Richard; Forrest Page B

Doc. But it’s not bad. I can stay with the unit.’
    â€˜Captain’s order,’ Lyon replied. He tried to recall at what point in their relationship with Spook they had abandoned all pretense of reality.
    The two passengers in the back seat of Murphysville Police Cruiser One were a dissimilar pair. The judge sat stiffly erect with his hands on his knees. He stared rigidly ahead. Spook, anesthetized by a series of boilermakers, leaned his head against the window and snored.
    â€˜I have a sanity hearing in my court, Randolph,’ the judge said imperiously to Rocco.
    â€˜That’s for sure,’ Rocco mumbled in reply.
    â€˜Drop me at court and pick me up in two hours.’
    â€˜Yes, sir,’ Rocco answered as he turned down Route 40 toward the Murphysville Convalescent Hospital. He had radioed ahead to make arrangements. Two male aides were waiting by the front entrance and approached the car as soon as it stopped.
    â€˜We’re there, Judge,’ Rocco said.
    â€˜Thank you, Henry. Remember, be back as soon as the luncheon is over.’ The judge left the car and regally allowed his arms to be grasped by the two aides as they guided him inside.
    â€˜I wonder who Randolph and Henry were,’ Rocco said as they drove away. ‘Next stop is the VA hospital, which is practically on our way to Middleburg Community College.’
    The college was nearly astride the Connecticut River and it occupied buildings that once housed a textile mill. The factory had long since moved south, but the brick construction and strong interior support walls allowed for extensive renovation.
    An administrator in the Dean’s office showed Rocco copies of the attendance sheets. She told them that the course instructor kept the originals with his grade book. They were directed to a small office located near a lecture hall where the instructor was holding office hours.
    The door was opened at Rocco’s knock by a lanky teacher dressed in corduroy pants and sports jacket with leather elbow patches. He smiled until he saw the badge on Rocco’s shirt. The door slammed shut.
    â€˜I’m in the police business because I love people,’ Rocco said to Lyon before he shouldered his way into the small office.
    â€˜I’m Chief Herbert of the Murphysville—’
    â€˜I know who you are,’ the teacher mumbled. ‘You busted me for a stop sign violation two years ago. Those extra points were just enough to have my license yanked for a year.’ He avoided looking at them as he picked up a blue book and made a note in its margin.
    Rocco looked at his pad. ‘You are Theodore Stratton and are the instructor of English 101. Skee Rumford is one of your students.’
    The teacher continued to read the examination book intently without answering.
    â€˜Oh, boy,’ Rocco muttered. ‘Would you please step out a moment, Lyon? Mr. Stratton and I have a matter to discuss.’
    â€˜I don’t talk to pigs,’ was Stratton’s comment made without looking up.
    Rocco shrugged. ‘Aren’t you a little young to be of the pig-calling generation?’
    â€˜Leave my office unless you have a warrant.’
    â€˜In the police game,’ Rocco said, ‘we call this attitude latent hostility to authority figures.’
    â€˜Doesn’t seem to be so latent to me,’ Lyon replied as he stepped from the room and shut the door.
    In two minutes, Rocco called him back to the office.
    The English instructor did not appear to be damaged. His stiff posture, grim smile, and the disappearance of all blue books, seemed to indicate that he was now giving Rocco his full attention.
    â€˜I hope to God you didn’t hit him, mash his fingers, or whatever it is you do,’ Lyon said.
    Rocco frowned. ‘Of course not. Mr. Stratton has made a voluntary decision to be cooperative.’
    The teacher’s nearly immobile expression crumbled. ‘How would you like it if