spangle the walls and ceiling. Taking his seat in the back of the room, he stretched his legs all the way out and folded his hands across his chest, watching the other students crowd in. The morning’s radiance had inflamed them all, and tomorrow was the first Varsity baseball game, with the Spring Dance in the evening; there was chattering, shouting, grinning, and laughter.
Three girls stood off to the side and whispered excitedly. He wondered if they were dorm girls, if they could possibly be talking about Dorothy. She couldn’t have been found yet. Why would anyone enter her room? They would think she wanted to sleep late. He was counting on her not being found for several hours; he held his breath until the girls’ whispering erupted into laughter.
No, it was unlikely that she would be found before one o’clock or so. ‘Dorothy Kingship wasn’t at breakfast and she wasn’t at lunch either’ – then they would knock on her door and get no answer. They’d most likely have to get the house mother or someone with a key. Or it might not even happen then. Many of the dorm girls slept through breakfast, and some of them ate lunch out occasionally. Dorrie hadn’t had any close friends who would miss her right away. No, if his luck held, they might not find her until Ellen’s phone call came.
The night before, after saying goodbye to Dorothy on the telephone, he had returned to the dorm. In the mailbox on the corner he had posted the envelope addressed to Ellen Kingship, the envelope containing Dorothy’s suicide note. The first mail collection of the morning was at six; Caldwell was only a hundred miles away and so the letter would be delivered this afternoon. If Dorothy were found in the morning, Ellen, notified by her father, might leave Caldwell for Blue River before the letter arrived, which would mean that an investigation of some sort would almost certainly be launched, because the suicide note would not be found until Ellen returned to Caldwell. It was the only risk, but it was a small one and unavoidable; it had been impossible for him to sneak into the Girls’ Dormitory to plant the note in Dorothy’s room, and impractical to secrete it in the pocket of her coat or in one of her books prior to giving her the pills, in which case there would have been the far greater risk of Dorothy finding the note and throwing it away or, still worse, putting two and two together.
He had decided upon noon as the safety mark. If Dorothy were found after twelve, Ellen would have received the note by the time the school authorities contacted Leo Kingship and Kingship in turn contacted her. If his luck really held, Dorothy would not he discovered until late afternoon, a frantic phone call from Ellen leading to the discovery. Then everything would be neat and in its proper order.
There would be an autopsy, of course. It would reveal the presence of a great deal of arsenic and a two-month embryo – the way and the why of her suicide. That and the note would more than satisfy the police. Oh, they would make a perfunctory check of the local drugstores, but it would net them only a fat zero. They might even consider the Pharmacy supply room. They would ask the students, ‘Did you see this girl in the supply room or anywhere in the Pharmacy Building?’ – displaying a photograph of the deceased. Which would produce another zero. It would be a mystery, but hardly an important one; even if they couldn’t be sure of the source of the arsenic, her death would still be an indisputable suicide.
Would they look for the man in the case, the lover? He considered that unlikely. For all they knew she was as promiscuous as a bunny. That was hardly their concern. But what about Kingship? Would outraged morality inaugurate a private inquiry? ‘Find the man who ruined my daughter!’ Although, from the description of her father that Dorothy had painted, Kingship would be more likely to think ‘Aha, she was ruined all along. Like
Three girls stood off to the side and whispered excitedly. He wondered if they were dorm girls, if they could possibly be talking about Dorothy. She couldn’t have been found yet. Why would anyone enter her room? They would think she wanted to sleep late. He was counting on her not being found for several hours; he held his breath until the girls’ whispering erupted into laughter.
No, it was unlikely that she would be found before one o’clock or so. ‘Dorothy Kingship wasn’t at breakfast and she wasn’t at lunch either’ – then they would knock on her door and get no answer. They’d most likely have to get the house mother or someone with a key. Or it might not even happen then. Many of the dorm girls slept through breakfast, and some of them ate lunch out occasionally. Dorrie hadn’t had any close friends who would miss her right away. No, if his luck held, they might not find her until Ellen’s phone call came.
The night before, after saying goodbye to Dorothy on the telephone, he had returned to the dorm. In the mailbox on the corner he had posted the envelope addressed to Ellen Kingship, the envelope containing Dorothy’s suicide note. The first mail collection of the morning was at six; Caldwell was only a hundred miles away and so the letter would be delivered this afternoon. If Dorothy were found in the morning, Ellen, notified by her father, might leave Caldwell for Blue River before the letter arrived, which would mean that an investigation of some sort would almost certainly be launched, because the suicide note would not be found until Ellen returned to Caldwell. It was the only risk, but it was a small one and unavoidable; it had been impossible for him to sneak into the Girls’ Dormitory to plant the note in Dorothy’s room, and impractical to secrete it in the pocket of her coat or in one of her books prior to giving her the pills, in which case there would have been the far greater risk of Dorothy finding the note and throwing it away or, still worse, putting two and two together.
He had decided upon noon as the safety mark. If Dorothy were found after twelve, Ellen would have received the note by the time the school authorities contacted Leo Kingship and Kingship in turn contacted her. If his luck really held, Dorothy would not he discovered until late afternoon, a frantic phone call from Ellen leading to the discovery. Then everything would be neat and in its proper order.
There would be an autopsy, of course. It would reveal the presence of a great deal of arsenic and a two-month embryo – the way and the why of her suicide. That and the note would more than satisfy the police. Oh, they would make a perfunctory check of the local drugstores, but it would net them only a fat zero. They might even consider the Pharmacy supply room. They would ask the students, ‘Did you see this girl in the supply room or anywhere in the Pharmacy Building?’ – displaying a photograph of the deceased. Which would produce another zero. It would be a mystery, but hardly an important one; even if they couldn’t be sure of the source of the arsenic, her death would still be an indisputable suicide.
Would they look for the man in the case, the lover? He considered that unlikely. For all they knew she was as promiscuous as a bunny. That was hardly their concern. But what about Kingship? Would outraged morality inaugurate a private inquiry? ‘Find the man who ruined my daughter!’ Although, from the description of her father that Dorothy had painted, Kingship would be more likely to think ‘Aha, she was ruined all along. Like
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