Stork Raving Mad(67)

“Which isn’t all that long, right?” Randall said. “That’s what I was figuring. So anyway, while your mother was showing her plans to Michael earlier today, I slipped down to the library with my camera and my tape measure. Figured I’d take a few measurements, a few photos. Get what I needed to do some sketches and estimates. Only when I went into the library, she was there.”

“She? You mean Dr. Wright?”

“The dead lady, whatever her name was.”

“But she wasn’t dead then, was she?”

“How should I know?” he said, with an exaggerated shrug. “She had her head down on the desk. I walked in, looked around, saw her, and said, ‘Excuse me, ma’am, but do you mind if I take a few measurements of the room?’ ”

“And did she answer?”

Randall shook his head.

“I figured she must be fast asleep, so I said, ‘Sorry to disturb you’—real soft like—and headed back for the door. I was almost out of the room when that other jerk showed up. Blanco.”

I noticed that with Blanco gone, he didn’t pretend to mispronounce the name.

“Dr. Blanco was in the library?” I asked. I winced at the eager sound of my own voice. Even though I’d mellowed toward him, I hadn’t grown so fond that I would object to having him turn out to be a suspect.

“No, he was banging on one of the French doors to the sunroom and yelling, ‘Jean! Jean! I need to talk to you!’ I stood there, because I figured if he woke her up, maybe I could do my measuring after all. But she didn’t move, and after he’d banged and shouted a couple of times, he said, ‘We need to talk. Call my cell phone.’ And then he went away. And I figured maybe I should too.”

He paused. I waited. On the radio, the last few bars of a twangy, upbeat song gave way to the opening chords of Patsy Cline’s “Crazy,” and I realized he’d said all he was going to say.

“You should tell the chief,” I said.

“I wasn’t going to,” he said, “because I knew anyone who’d been near the library would look suspicious. But then I realized that if anyone did see me going to the library, it would look even more suspicious if I didn’t tell. And then I thought about that jerk Blanco.”

“What about him?”

“He was trying to get in to talk to her, but he went away without succeeding,” he said. “I can vouch for that. And a little while ago I overheard a couple of students talking. Sounded as if they were pretty relieved that the Wright woman was dead, and one of them said the only thing that would make it better would be if the chief arrested Blanco. They were joking about telling the chief they’d seen him sneaking into the library. At least I hope they were joking.”

I winced. The chief was going to have a hard enough time sorting this one out without having to deal with a bunch of the students deliberately giving false evidence.

“They’d better be joking,” I said. “Would you recognize them if you saw them?”

“ ’Fraid not,” he said. “They were coming in from the barn, all muffled up in coats and such. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I can’t let them frame the guy. Even if he’s a jerk, that doesn’t make him a murderer. Hell, even before I heard them, I was starting to feel bad about not telling the chief.”

“Tell him what you saw, then,” I said. “And what you heard. He needs to know. And it’s safer for you, too. What if they find your fingerprints in the library?”

“As much work as we’ve done for you over the past few years, I wouldn’t be surprised to find my fingerprints anywhere in the house,” he said.

“What if you accidentally touched something that wasn’t here last time you were?” I said. “Tell the chief.”

“Yeah, I guess I should,” he said. “Much as I’d like to see the jerk in trouble, I want it to be for something he deserves, like screwing up this whole heating plant thing for the past month. Not something he didn’t do.”

He turned away and did something with his tools for a few moments, then strode to the door and opened it.

“Thanks,” he said. “Going to see the chief now. Hobart!”

In a second or two his cousin ambled back in holding a plate with a half-eaten slice of apple pie.

“You keep on with that,” Randall said, pointing to the crib. “I’ll be back in a while.”

Hobart nodded amiably, still chewing, and returned to the crib. Randall strode out.

I followed him out into the hall. I peeled off at the bathroom, though, for another pit stop. As I was reaching for the doorknob, the door flew open and Kathy stepped out.