Phi Beta Murder by C.S. Challinor

day there’s a knifing or shooting in the rougher neighbourhoods. So, how come you thought of the ducts?”
    “I didn’t, at least not consciously, until I started thinking about how there might be good reason for someone to have murdered Dixon. When I found out that R.J. Wylie had this room in his first year, I felt I might be onto something.”
    “I never knew that. But I never hung out with him.”
    “Anyway, it was just too much of a coincidence to ignore when you consider he had a compelling motive for wanting revenge. Dixon Clark was, after all, responsible for getting him expelled.”
    “Yeah, but R.J. couldn’t have murdered Dix. He’s a really laid-back sort of guy.”
    “You said you didn’t know him that well.”
    “I saw him around. He was one of the popular party kids.”
    “Who knew you were going to be absent from your room on Sunday night?”
    Campbell reached for the container of coffee on the floor. “Justin. He’s the soccer captain. I told him I couldn’t make practice because I was picking you up in Miami.”
    “He may have told his ex-roommate, Ray Junior.”
    “Is that what R.J. stands for? He never called himself Ray. I don’t even know where he is now. What makes you think Justin is still in touch with him?”
    “They were roommates this year. It’s quite possible they still talk. We need to find out if we can get into Dix’s room from here as the plan shows. But I want to see this infamous website first.”
    “Help yourself.”
    “Can you get me on?”
    “Okay, but then I need to get to class.” Campbell heaved himself off the bed and tapped around on the keyboard. “Here you go. Welcome to SS.com.”
    Rex scrolled down to the ditty, posted anonymously under The Snitch thread. Explicitly sexual versions followed, some of them quite comical. Campbell then clicked onto a photo gallery of Hilliard faculty and enlarged a naked image of a pretty blonde posing sideways with one leg raised on a stool and projecting an impossibly large bust.
    “This is your marine science professor?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    No wonder Cormack was upset. What man in his right mind would want his girlfriend’s body viewed by thousands of horny students? “Can contributors to the site be tracked?” Rex asked.
    “I suppose up to a point, but anyone could post from another student’s computer—say, when the person was out of the room. Or if you knew someone else’s 9-digit student I.D. and password, you could steal their identity.”
    Campbell then ran a short video of an individual in a gray hooded jacket exchanging a small packet of something for cash with a man in jeans and a sweater. They were too far away to show any distinct details and the video had been shot on an overcast day in the shadow of a tall building.
    “Is this the phone video that got R.J. Wylie arrested?”
    Campbell nodded. “R.J. was allegedly the one in the hoodie, but he said he didn’t own one exactly like it and, in any case, he was signed in at a lab on the other side of campus at the time.”
    “Who’s the other person?”
    “A police informant. It was a set-up.”
    While Campbell got dressed, Rex read a blog on Dixon Clark’s suicide. Commiserations had poured in, but many of the comments prior to his death were highly inflammatory. R.J. Wylie fared better in the discussions and appeared to have a large female following.
    “R.J. We miss you!” Signed Sxylips.
    “Bring back R.J.! I love u 4ever.” Alabamagurl
    “Dixon Clark is a snitch. R.J. rules.” Lissa
    Some of the coeds had included photos of themselves or else cute cartoon representations.
    “Do you think you could get into Dixon’s computer?” Rex asked Campbell, who was in the process of tugging a comb through his hair.
    “I think so, unless he changed his password. He gave me access to his PC when we were working on a computer science assignment. I ended up doing all the work and saved his ass.”
    “I need you to see if you can find anything that