Someone picked up the phone in the middle of the fourth ring and a woman’s voice said hello.
“Hello,” I said. “I’m trying to reach Helen Carmichael from the UVa history department?”
“Speaking,” she said, her clipped tone suggesting that she wasn’t entirely thrilled to be bothered at home.
“My name’s Meg Langslow,” I said. I paused for a few moments to see if she reacted. Nothing, so I continued. “I called your department a couple of weeks ago about some documents I’d found.”
“What kind of documents?” she said, sounding warmer. Evidently saying “documents” to an historian was like saying “craft fair” to me. Or “homicide” to Dad.
“Twenty-three boxes of stuff that belonged to the former owner of our house,” I said. “Assorted letters, photographs, and papers belonging to people living in the town of Caerphilly between the Civil War and World War One.”
“Oh, right,” she said. “I remember seeing a message about that. Not my period—I’m working mostly on the Colonial era. But I saw a note about your call on the bulletin board, and when no one snatched it away after a week or so, I passed your information along to a colleague at another college who might be interested.”
“Lindsay Tyler?”
“That’s right. Did she ever get in touch with you?”
“Yes,” I said. “Do you mind my asking how you know her?”
“From graduate school,” she said. “Look, is there some problem? I know she can be—well, not the easiest person to get along with, but …”
Her voice trailed off. I waited to see what she’d say next, but she was doing the same thing.
“She called me all right,” I said finally. “Only she pretended to be you.”
“She what?”
“Identified herself as Helen Carmichael of the UVa history department, and set up an appointment to come by and pick up the papers.”
“That’s … incredible,” the real Helen Carmichael said.
“I gather the impersonation wasn’t your idea, then. Any idea why she did it?”
“No!” she exclaimed. “Unless—well, she’s not exactly happy about her exile in Pineville. Her word, not mine. I tried reminding her once how few Ph.D.’s get hired anywhere in their field, that just being employed is a badge of honor, and she snapped my head off. That was maybe five years ago, when she first moved there, but I doubt if she’s learned to love the place. Maybe she thought she’d have a better chance of getting the material if you thought she was from a betterknown university.”
“Or maybe she did some research and found out UVa was my alma mater,” I suggested.
“Very likely,” Helen said. “Or maybe she thinks she’s so notorious in Caerphilly that you wouldn’t have anything to do with her.”
“Was she?” I asked. “Notorious, that is.”
She snorted.
“What happened, anyway?” I had Michael’s version, but Helen Carmichael might know more about Lindsay’s point of view.
“Typical Lindsay stunt,” she said. “I don’t remember the details—not that she didn’t tell me about them ad nauseum. All I remember is that she uncovered some data that tarnished someone’s halo a bit—an ancestor of one of the snootier local families.”
“Probably the Pruitts,” I said.
“Could be. As I said, I don’t remember details. Anyway, her find was completely overshadowed by the battle that followed. Never occurred to her that the local bigwigs would mind her trashing their ancestors. Or that they might have some clout over at the college. They sent her packing.”
“And she still holds a grudge?”
A pause.
“She’s a bit unbalanced on the subject,” Helen said finally. “I think she’d do anything to cause trouble for Caerphilly.”
“The town, or the college?”
“Either. Both. Look, why are you asking all this, anyway? Did something happen when she came to collect the papers?”
“She never showed up to collect the papers,” I said. “Someone killed her first.”
“Oh God,” Helen muttered. “They were right.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Who was right?” I asked.
“When we were in grad school, a couple of the students put out a gag yearbook,” she said. “Tasteless, but funny. They named Lindsay most likely to be a justifiable homicide. Of course, that was fifteen years ago, but she hadn’t changed much.”
I waited for a bit to see if the news of Lindsay’s murder would shake loose any more information, but I was disappointed.