platter.
At some point during her seventeen years at Cushing College, Charlotte Cadell had managed to carve out the Physics and Astronomy library at Sanborn House as her undisputed territory. This meant that no one – not even Heads of Department – quibbled with her about anything to do with how the library was run. Over the course of her stewardship the library evolved into something of Charlotte’s personal principality – rules governing the library were proposed and enacted by her, alone.
Although no one could remember quite how this de facto arrangement came to be, it was widely respected. Occasionally misled by Charlotte’s demure demeanor, and by the idea that they outranked her, a few department members along the way had made the mistake of being high-handed with her, or of questioning her authority. Charlotte knew when and how to be quietly ferocious, and these missteps were rarely repeated.
Having finished arranging the tea table Charlotte sat down at her desk and tucked her skirt tautly under her thighs. In her forties, she displayed the dull remnants of what was once natural beauty. She was one of those attractive women who made little or no effort toward her appearance. On occasion she wore a bit of lipstick, but no more than that. Her butterscotch-color hair was graying, and her once lovely figure had thickened at the waistline. Charlotte Cadell’s delicate features and fine bone structure told the story of classic, faded beauty, like the portrait of a beautiful woman, slightly blurred and discolored by sunlight.
Will observed her for some moments before approaching.
“Miss Cadell? May I have a word?” Will showed her his identification.
“How can I help?” she said.
“Is there somewhere more private we can sit and talk?”
“Of course; let’s go up top,” Charlotte smiled graciously.
Will followed her up a spiral staircase at the far end of the library. They emerged onto a balcony rimmed with floor-to-ceiling, glass-fronted bookcases and a smattering of reading chairs. Sunlight streamed onto the patterned carpet through a large arched window.
“We are investigating the death of Alan Sidebottom. Since you are in charge of the library, I thought you might be in a unique position to observe departmental goings-on,” Will said. “Any information at all would be helpful.”
“You mean, gossip I might have overheard?” she smiled coyly, raising her eyebrows at Will.
Will returned her cool gaze and did not answer.
“I can tell you that Dr. Fender disliked Alan Sidebottom intensely, for plagiarizing his work,” Charlotte said. “It’s common knowledge. But Mitchell Fender is a good and decent man, and would never hurt anyone. So I think that’s probably a non-lead.”
Will nodded encouragement and took notes.
“A bunch of us got together the evening after Professor Sidebottom died. Everyone was so upset. Dr. Dubin was his usual, kind self, making sure everybody else was doing okay, you know? I thought Dr. Cake was kind of quiet. It was amazing, the things people said–– in vino veritas, you know. I was awfully interested––along with everybody else––to find out that Dr. Mann knew Alan a long time ago, and had an affair with him. I don’t think she meant to blurt that out. I think she had had too much to drink, and it just slipped out. And I remember that Dr. Gaylord seemed on edge that night. I can’t think why that would be. Poor Dr. Fender had too much to drink, too, and behaved rather foolishly . . . I don’t know what more I can tell you.”
Will finished writing and set his notepad and pen on his lap.
“That’s a very pretty ring, Miss Cadell,” he said. “My mother had one very much like it. If I remember right, the stones spell out a message
At some point during her seventeen years at Cushing College, Charlotte Cadell had managed to carve out the Physics and Astronomy library at Sanborn House as her undisputed territory. This meant that no one – not even Heads of Department – quibbled with her about anything to do with how the library was run. Over the course of her stewardship the library evolved into something of Charlotte’s personal principality – rules governing the library were proposed and enacted by her, alone.
Although no one could remember quite how this de facto arrangement came to be, it was widely respected. Occasionally misled by Charlotte’s demure demeanor, and by the idea that they outranked her, a few department members along the way had made the mistake of being high-handed with her, or of questioning her authority. Charlotte knew when and how to be quietly ferocious, and these missteps were rarely repeated.
Having finished arranging the tea table Charlotte sat down at her desk and tucked her skirt tautly under her thighs. In her forties, she displayed the dull remnants of what was once natural beauty. She was one of those attractive women who made little or no effort toward her appearance. On occasion she wore a bit of lipstick, but no more than that. Her butterscotch-color hair was graying, and her once lovely figure had thickened at the waistline. Charlotte Cadell’s delicate features and fine bone structure told the story of classic, faded beauty, like the portrait of a beautiful woman, slightly blurred and discolored by sunlight.
Will observed her for some moments before approaching.
“Miss Cadell? May I have a word?” Will showed her his identification.
“How can I help?” she said.
“Is there somewhere more private we can sit and talk?”
“Of course; let’s go up top,” Charlotte smiled graciously.
Will followed her up a spiral staircase at the far end of the library. They emerged onto a balcony rimmed with floor-to-ceiling, glass-fronted bookcases and a smattering of reading chairs. Sunlight streamed onto the patterned carpet through a large arched window.
“We are investigating the death of Alan Sidebottom. Since you are in charge of the library, I thought you might be in a unique position to observe departmental goings-on,” Will said. “Any information at all would be helpful.”
“You mean, gossip I might have overheard?” she smiled coyly, raising her eyebrows at Will.
Will returned her cool gaze and did not answer.
“I can tell you that Dr. Fender disliked Alan Sidebottom intensely, for plagiarizing his work,” Charlotte said. “It’s common knowledge. But Mitchell Fender is a good and decent man, and would never hurt anyone. So I think that’s probably a non-lead.”
Will nodded encouragement and took notes.
“A bunch of us got together the evening after Professor Sidebottom died. Everyone was so upset. Dr. Dubin was his usual, kind self, making sure everybody else was doing okay, you know? I thought Dr. Cake was kind of quiet. It was amazing, the things people said–– in vino veritas, you know. I was awfully interested––along with everybody else––to find out that Dr. Mann knew Alan a long time ago, and had an affair with him. I don’t think she meant to blurt that out. I think she had had too much to drink, and it just slipped out. And I remember that Dr. Gaylord seemed on edge that night. I can’t think why that would be. Poor Dr. Fender had too much to drink, too, and behaved rather foolishly . . . I don’t know what more I can tell you.”
Will finished writing and set his notepad and pen on his lap.
“That’s a very pretty ring, Miss Cadell,” he said. “My mother had one very much like it. If I remember right, the stones spell out a message
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