decades. I won’t mince words with you, detective; I knew Alan in the Biblical sense. But that was some thirty years ago, and we did not maintain any kind of relationship afterward. It was a brief affair, one of those things one does when one is young and foolish.”
Will kept quiet, taking notes and waiting for more information. Helen merely returned his gaze. This standoff lasted for almost a minute, each trying to take the measure of the other.
“Is there anything you can tell me that might help with the investigation? Anything that might shed light on Professor Sidebottom’s untimely death?” Will prodded. “Problems he might have been having with a student, or a fellow teacher? Any problems in his personal relationships?”
Helen shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and accidentally knocked some papers off the desk. Will picked them up off the floor and handed them to her. On top was a pink flyer advertising a discount for a haircut.
“I could do with a haircut, myself,” he said genially. “Is this place any good?”
“I wouldn’t know. I go to Boston to get my hair done. Makes a nice change from small town life,” Helen explained imperiously.
“Can you tell me whose decision it was to invite Alan Sidebottom to Cushing?” Will asked.
“It was mine, as a matter of fact. I felt it would be very good for the department’s standing to have someone as prominent as Alan Sidebottom teaching here for the semester. Alumni love that sort of thing. Famous names associated with the college seem to encourage them to contribute more money to the old alma mater. And we always need more money. Simple fact of life. Running a financially successful department is what I get paid for, detective.”
“Had you been in touch with Professor Sidebottom at all over the years? Had you seen him in the past thirty years?” Will asked.
“No. We fell completely out of touch,” Helen replied.
“Did you harbor ill will toward him because of your earlier relationship?”
“Not at all,” Helen said. “I chalked it up to youthful folly. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Will made notes. He felt sure Helen Mann was being less than completely honest. Her presumptive royalty act was getting on his nerves. But more than that, he knew she acted that way as a defense. She was hiding something about herself or about Alan Sidebottom’s death. Or both.
“It seems that Professor Sidebottom led a very colorful life,” Will said. “From what I understand he had any number of enemies.”
“If you’re talking about the situation with Mitchell Fender, it’s old news. I had a talk with Mitch about it before Alan Sidebottom arrived. The whole incident was put to rest. Mitchell gave me his word that he would not stir up any old business that might create divisiveness in the department,” Helen said. “And Mitch knows I mean business.”
“Uh-huh. Well, thank you for your time, Dr. Mann. If you do think of anything else, please give me a call,” Will said, leaving his card.
Chapter 7
Ravi Kapoor was the first one to arrive at the Observatory that evening. He parked his car in the deserted parking area, and crunched his way across the gravel courtyard, looking upwards at the moonless, black sky, stuffed full of gleaming constellations. The sound of his footsteps was amplified in the surrounding silence.
The shadowy, cavernous spaces inside the Observatory aroused in Ravi a sense of awe and wonder from his childhood, just as if it were his very first visit to the planetarium. Never had a place moved him so deeply. Never had architecture registered on him as something sacred, the way the building soared upwards toward the heavens and seemed to touch the sky. Here was
Will kept quiet, taking notes and waiting for more information. Helen merely returned his gaze. This standoff lasted for almost a minute, each trying to take the measure of the other.
“Is there anything you can tell me that might help with the investigation? Anything that might shed light on Professor Sidebottom’s untimely death?” Will prodded. “Problems he might have been having with a student, or a fellow teacher? Any problems in his personal relationships?”
Helen shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and accidentally knocked some papers off the desk. Will picked them up off the floor and handed them to her. On top was a pink flyer advertising a discount for a haircut.
“I could do with a haircut, myself,” he said genially. “Is this place any good?”
“I wouldn’t know. I go to Boston to get my hair done. Makes a nice change from small town life,” Helen explained imperiously.
“Can you tell me whose decision it was to invite Alan Sidebottom to Cushing?” Will asked.
“It was mine, as a matter of fact. I felt it would be very good for the department’s standing to have someone as prominent as Alan Sidebottom teaching here for the semester. Alumni love that sort of thing. Famous names associated with the college seem to encourage them to contribute more money to the old alma mater. And we always need more money. Simple fact of life. Running a financially successful department is what I get paid for, detective.”
“Had you been in touch with Professor Sidebottom at all over the years? Had you seen him in the past thirty years?” Will asked.
“No. We fell completely out of touch,” Helen replied.
“Did you harbor ill will toward him because of your earlier relationship?”
“Not at all,” Helen said. “I chalked it up to youthful folly. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Will made notes. He felt sure Helen Mann was being less than completely honest. Her presumptive royalty act was getting on his nerves. But more than that, he knew she acted that way as a defense. She was hiding something about herself or about Alan Sidebottom’s death. Or both.
“It seems that Professor Sidebottom led a very colorful life,” Will said. “From what I understand he had any number of enemies.”
“If you’re talking about the situation with Mitchell Fender, it’s old news. I had a talk with Mitch about it before Alan Sidebottom arrived. The whole incident was put to rest. Mitchell gave me his word that he would not stir up any old business that might create divisiveness in the department,” Helen said. “And Mitch knows I mean business.”
“Uh-huh. Well, thank you for your time, Dr. Mann. If you do think of anything else, please give me a call,” Will said, leaving his card.
Chapter 7
Ravi Kapoor was the first one to arrive at the Observatory that evening. He parked his car in the deserted parking area, and crunched his way across the gravel courtyard, looking upwards at the moonless, black sky, stuffed full of gleaming constellations. The sound of his footsteps was amplified in the surrounding silence.
The shadowy, cavernous spaces inside the Observatory aroused in Ravi a sense of awe and wonder from his childhood, just as if it were his very first visit to the planetarium. Never had a place moved him so deeply. Never had architecture registered on him as something sacred, the way the building soared upwards toward the heavens and seemed to touch the sky. Here was
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