don’t leap to your feet and rush out the door like a lunatic. Listen. I said sit down.”
Kate sat.
“Good,” Harriet said. “I understand you’re meeting Toni tonight, and she’ll tell you her findings and plans. I gather she had a somewhat raunchy time with the fraternity boys and picked up some interesting clues, but nothing decisive. I, on the other hand, have real news. Don’t interrupt.” Once again Kate subsided.
“The two women on your list lived in quite different circumstances. The first had a small, one-room apartment, hardly room to swing a cat—though Ihave always been shocked at the idea that anyone would want to swing a cat—all right, all right, and the other lived in a large apartment shared with three other women. Only two of the four were home, including the name on your list. She looked decidedly unwilling to let me into the apartment, or even inside the door, but I did a pretty good act, though I say it myself, of an authoritative person from the university housing office—”
“You mean it was a university apartment?” Kate asked. “I didn’t know they gave large apartments to students.”
“They don’t. It turned out that one of the young women was the granddaughter of a retired professor, more or less illegally occupying his apartment with three roommates to help with the rent. I had a suspicion the university wasn’t too happy about this, given the shortage of large apartments, and that made my threats of what might happen if they didn’t let me in more convincing. I’d taken the precaution of visiting the housing office first, passing myself off as the dithering aunt of a student, and found out that the apartment house in question was university property. Now don’t rush me, Kate, we can’t do anything right now, so contain yourself. Whatever that means.
“After I got in, I asked to be shown the whole apartment and to be given a detailed account of who was living there, their university status, the number of people in each room—that sort of thing. And here’s the clincher. One of the rooms was locked, andthey said they couldn’t possibly let me into it because its occupant, presumably a young woman, was ill with the flu and several other feverish and quite contagious ailments. I said I would risk the ailments; please unlock the door. They stubbornly refused, and I made large noises about reporting this to the authorities when the occupant of the room coughed and then began singing, softly but unmistakably, in a baritone voice. What’s more, he, or up to that moment the possibility of a very hoarse, deep-voiced woman, was singing ‘Loch Lomond.’ ”
“It was Reed!” Kate screamed, jumping to her feet. “You and he were always going on about that song, how you could never tell whom the singer was talking to, his true love or his friend, and why they were taking different roads.”
“I do remember, my dear. We discussed it one whole evening shortly after we all met, at the first mention of single malt Scotch as I recall. We kept sipping and wondering why one was taking the high road and one the low road, and whether the roads were metaphorical or geographical—”
“Harriet, please.”
“Well, my dear, they tried to lead me away from the door, but I spoke up and he sang it again. I’m sure he heard me. So that is probably where he is.”
“I’d already gathered that,” Kate said, beside herself. “Why are we just sitting here? Are you trying to drive me mad? Is this some sort of sadistic practice you and Toni are developing for unknown reasons?”
“When I left the apartment sometime later, not hurrying in my inspection so that they would think I hadn’t noticed much—in fact, I had suggested by a certain knowing, disapproving look that I understood that one of the young women had her lover with her in that room—where was I? Oh, yes, I finally made my slow way out of the place, doing my best to calm any suspicions they might have of my
Kate sat.
“Good,” Harriet said. “I understand you’re meeting Toni tonight, and she’ll tell you her findings and plans. I gather she had a somewhat raunchy time with the fraternity boys and picked up some interesting clues, but nothing decisive. I, on the other hand, have real news. Don’t interrupt.” Once again Kate subsided.
“The two women on your list lived in quite different circumstances. The first had a small, one-room apartment, hardly room to swing a cat—though Ihave always been shocked at the idea that anyone would want to swing a cat—all right, all right, and the other lived in a large apartment shared with three other women. Only two of the four were home, including the name on your list. She looked decidedly unwilling to let me into the apartment, or even inside the door, but I did a pretty good act, though I say it myself, of an authoritative person from the university housing office—”
“You mean it was a university apartment?” Kate asked. “I didn’t know they gave large apartments to students.”
“They don’t. It turned out that one of the young women was the granddaughter of a retired professor, more or less illegally occupying his apartment with three roommates to help with the rent. I had a suspicion the university wasn’t too happy about this, given the shortage of large apartments, and that made my threats of what might happen if they didn’t let me in more convincing. I’d taken the precaution of visiting the housing office first, passing myself off as the dithering aunt of a student, and found out that the apartment house in question was university property. Now don’t rush me, Kate, we can’t do anything right now, so contain yourself. Whatever that means.
“After I got in, I asked to be shown the whole apartment and to be given a detailed account of who was living there, their university status, the number of people in each room—that sort of thing. And here’s the clincher. One of the rooms was locked, andthey said they couldn’t possibly let me into it because its occupant, presumably a young woman, was ill with the flu and several other feverish and quite contagious ailments. I said I would risk the ailments; please unlock the door. They stubbornly refused, and I made large noises about reporting this to the authorities when the occupant of the room coughed and then began singing, softly but unmistakably, in a baritone voice. What’s more, he, or up to that moment the possibility of a very hoarse, deep-voiced woman, was singing ‘Loch Lomond.’ ”
“It was Reed!” Kate screamed, jumping to her feet. “You and he were always going on about that song, how you could never tell whom the singer was talking to, his true love or his friend, and why they were taking different roads.”
“I do remember, my dear. We discussed it one whole evening shortly after we all met, at the first mention of single malt Scotch as I recall. We kept sipping and wondering why one was taking the high road and one the low road, and whether the roads were metaphorical or geographical—”
“Harriet, please.”
“Well, my dear, they tried to lead me away from the door, but I spoke up and he sang it again. I’m sure he heard me. So that is probably where he is.”
“I’d already gathered that,” Kate said, beside herself. “Why are we just sitting here? Are you trying to drive me mad? Is this some sort of sadistic practice you and Toni are developing for unknown reasons?”
“When I left the apartment sometime later, not hurrying in my inspection so that they would think I hadn’t noticed much—in fact, I had suggested by a certain knowing, disapproving look that I understood that one of the young women had her lover with her in that room—where was I? Oh, yes, I finally made my slow way out of the place, doing my best to calm any suspicions they might have of my
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