Dead Soldiers (26 page)

“Were you a friend of Matthew’s?“ she asked.

“I teach at the college,“ Burns said, which was the truth if it wasn’t an answer to the question.

It satisfied Mrs. Hart, however, and she told him that he would be welcome.

He locked his office and went downstairs to his car, making sure to put the Pepsi can in a recycle barrel on the way.

Burns might cross Dean Partridge.

He might even cross the president.

But he knew better than to cross Rose.

T
he Harts’ house, while not a mansion, was very nice indeed, much newer than
Burns’s
own home. The landscaping looked as if it might have been done by a professional, and the lawn was neatly trimmed. Burns was sure the place was well-insured.

He parked at the curb and glanced across the street at the vacant lots. There were trees there, and some brush. A sniper could easily have concealed himself and gotten away without being seen. Burns didn’t think anyone was there now, however.

Mrs. Hart came to the door in answer to
Burns’s
ring. He was painfully conscious that he wasn’t dressed for a condolence call. In his shorts and T-shirt, he looked as if he’d just finished mowing a lawn, but Mrs. Hart didn’t seem to notice.

She was a small woman with a lined face and gray hair, and she wore a black dress that looked new. Burns thought she must have bought it for the funeral. He introduced himself, and she invited him in and led him to a small living room, where she sat rigidly in a wooden rocker and he sat on a couch with cushions that offered very little support.

“Did you teach with Matthew?“ she asked.

“I came to the college after he retired,“ Burns said. “But I heard a lot about him from the other instructors.“

He didn’t mention that most of what he’d heard was bad. There was no need to go into that.

“He was well thought of by everyone,“ Mrs. Hart said, as if she were oblivious to her husband’s reputation. “I know they all hated for him to retire.“

Burns didn’t disillusion her. He let her reminisce about her husband’s teaching career for awhile, and then led the subject around to the one he was interested in.

“You have to wonder why anyone would want to hurt him,“ Burns said. “And to leave that silly toy soldier lying by him.“

Mrs. Hart frowned. “How did you know about the soldier? The police asked me not to mention that to anyone.“

“I think Mary Mason told me. Aren’t you the one who told her?“

Mrs. Hart sat with her hands folded in her lap. She didn’t rock in the chair. She hardly moved.

“I must have been. A lot of people don’t like Mary, but she’s always been very nice to me.“

No wonder
, Burns thought uncharitably.
She fooled around with your husband, so she covered that playing up to you
.

“She was one of the first to come by after Matthew . . . died,“ Mrs. Hart continued. “We’ve known her for years. I buy all my Merry Mary products from her, and she called as soon as she heard the news. I was distraught at the time, as you can imagine.“

Burns nodded to show that he could.

“When she came by I was vulnerable,“ Mrs. Hart said, “I may have blurted out some things I shouldn’t have. I don’t often let my guard down, but Mary was very comforting.“

Burns thought that Mason was many things to many people. Capable of anything.

“I have things under control now,“ Mrs. Hart said, and Burns wondered if she really did. The rigid posture, the tightly held emotions, the dry tone of her voice seemed to him to be indicative of repression rather than control. But maybe that was the same thing. He wasn’t sure. After all, he taught English, not psychology.

 
“You must have had a lot of visitors,“ Burns said.

“Oh, yes. Everyone loved Matthew. Quite a few of his colleagues have been by to see me, and I appreciate it.“

She smiled a very small smile to let Burns know that he, too, was appreciated.

Burns asked if any of the college’s board members had been by to see her.

“Of course. They realize what a valuable contribution Matthew made to the college, and they wanted to let me know that.“

“The Balls must have come by,“ Burns said. “Neal Bruce. Robert
Yowell
. Steven Stilwell.“

“The Balls were very thoughtful. They brought a nice casserole.“

Burns wondered where they’d bought it, but he didn’t say so. He was sure Karen Ball hadn’t actually cooked it herself.

“Neal was our banker for years,“ Mrs. Hart said. “He doesn’t do much now, of course, but he came by. The others didn’t, but they might not have known Matthew well.“

“He’ll always be remembered at the college,“ Burns said, and after a few more minutes of superficial talk, he managed to leave more or less gracefully. He felt sorry for Mrs. Hart, and there was nothing he could do to make her loss any less painful. But maybe he could help catch her husband’s killer.

B
urns’s
next stop was Dean Partridge’s house. When Burns arrived, Billy was nowhere in sight. That didn’t mean anything, however, as Burns well knew that the goat was quite depraved and capable of waiting in concealment for anyone who was so foolish as to let his guard down.

Burns looked around warily before he got out of the car to be sure that Billy wasn’t lurking behind a bush or hiding behind the corner of the house. There was no sign of him, and no movement, so Burns figured the coast was clear. He got out of the car and went up to the front door.

“Been mowing the lawn?“ Dr. Partridge said when she came to the door and got a look at
Burns’s
outfit.

“Practicing for the big game,“ Burns said.

“I’m sure the students are shaking in their boots,“ Partridge said, leading him into the den. “Sit down and tell me what’s so urgent that you have to meet me at home.“

Burns sat on the couch and looked around at the cabinet where the toy soldiers should have been, the toy soldiers that were the cause of all the trouble.

“You said something when we were talking about the people that came through this room,“ Burns told her. “I’ve been wondering about it today.“

“I said quite a few things. Would you like something to drink before we go over them again?“

Burns said he didn’t think so, and Dr. Partridge asked what specific thing she’d said that Burns was wondering about.

“You told me that Steven Stilwell was above suspicion. You said he was an honest man and that you were sure of it, but you didn’t tell me why. I’d like to know.“

“Why?“

“I think Mary Mason lied to us about him. I don’t think she actually saw him alone in the room.“

“I told you that she was capable of anything.“

“And I believe it,“ Burns agreed, without going into his reasons. “But that doesn’t explain why you think Stilwell is innocent.“

“But you just said yourself that Mary was lying about him. Why would she do that, by the way?“

“That’s confidential information,“ Burns said. He’d tell Napier, but he didn’t see that Dr. Partridge needed to know. “And the fact that she was lying doesn’t have anything to do with why I’m asking about him. So what’s the deal?“

“I’m sure most of the faculty members are aware that I’m a very sentimental person.“

It was all Burns could do not to laugh. Most of the faculty considered Dean Partridge a real
hardcase
.

“So you’re sentimental about Stilwell?“ he said.

“That’s right. The man is a treasure, always giving his time to the college, always helping out when he can. And do you know why?“

Burns had his suspicions, but he said that he had no idea.

“Because he’s had a tragic life. He’s really very lonely. It’s a sad story, and I feel sorry for the man.“

Burns thought that he might have guessed part of the story. Stilwell had been married at one time, but Burns had noticed that there were no photos of his family in his office.

“I know his son didn’t do well here at the college,“ Burns said.

“He had a bad semester. Steven told me all about it.“

Burns knew about the bad semester. He’d checked the grades that evening in his office. Hart’s class hadn’t been the only one that young Taylor Stilwell had failed that semester. He’d also failed Mal Tomlin’s class, Don Elliott’s class, and
Abner
Swan’s class. An interesting series of names, and those had been the only classes he was taking.

“Tell me what happened,“ Burns said.

“I don’t see why this is important. Steven has had some bad things happen in his life, and he couldn’t possibly have killed anyone.“

“I’m not so sure about that.“

“Well, you should be. To accuse him of such a thing is simply outrageous.“

“No, it’s not. Everyone’s a suspect. You know that.“

Partridge had to think about that for a while. Burns waited patiently until she’d made up her mind.

“You’re right, of course,“ she said. “I shouldn’t let sentiment interfere with logical thought. But I’d like to know why you suspect him.“

“Because he knew something he shouldn’t have known,“ Burns said, and let it go at that.

“I’d like for you to be more specific.“

Burns sighed. “Mary Mason knew that there was a soldier found by Matthew Hart’s body. She knew because Mrs. Hart told her. But Mrs. Hart says she didn’t tell anyone else, and it wasn’t in the papers. Mrs. Hart couldn’t have told Stilwell, because he didn’t go by to offer his sympathies.“

“That’s very thin evidence.“

“I know. But Neal Bruce and the Balls went by to see Mrs. Hart, and they didn’t know about the soldiers. Stilwell did. I think he knew because he put it there.“

“But he would have to have a reason. What R. M. would call a motive.“

Burns thought about those four failing grades. And the fact that he could find no other records of Taylor Stilwell’s having enrolled at HGC. He knew that wasn’t reason enough for murder, but maybe there was more to the story.

“I thought maybe you could help me with that,“ he said.

“Not really,“ Partridge said. “What happened to Steven is a sad story, but that’s all it is.“

“I’d like to hear it anyway,“ Burns said, and so Partridge told him.

A
ccording to Dr. Partridge, Steven Stilwell, dealer in antiques and strong supporter of Hartley Gorman College, was a product of the 1960s, which of course didn’t end until well into the 1970s. Born in 1953, he had entered college during the Vietnam era and found a home in the anti-war movement, a movement with which Dr. Partridge had a great deal of sympathy, having been involved herself.

“So you can see that Steven would never kill anyone,“ she said. “He was a pacifist.“

Burns remembered his earlier theory that Hart’s killer might only have been trying to scare him. Tomlin and Elliott hadn’t been killed, though in Elliott’s case it had been a near thing.

“Sometimes pacifists do funny things,“ Burns said, without being more specific about past events at HGC. He was sure Partridge would remember without his saying anything further. She had been involved in those events as much as he had. More, really. Murder had been only a part of the resulting mess, and things hadn’t turned out well for all concerned in spite of
Burns’s
helping Napier pin things down again.

“Anyone might go wrong, I suppose,“ she said. “But not Steven. His son was killed, you know.“

Burns hadn’t known, and he told her so.

“Steven doesn’t talk about it much. I think he talked to me only because my own past had certain elements in common with his own. He told me that when it happened, he couldn’t believe it. He went deeply into denial. It took years for it to sink in. He wasn’t so closely involved with the college at the time. That came later, and I think he works so much with us now because his business doesn’t keep him fully occupied. He needs other activities to keep his mind off his troubles. His wife left him after their son was killed, and that didn’t help matters, I’m sure.“

“Did his wife blame him for Taylor’s death?“

“I believe so. Steven and his son were very close. Taylor was named for Steven’s best friend, who had moved to Italy to become some sort of antiques broker. In fact, he was in business there for a while, but then there was a huge scandal, something to do with the graffiti at Pompeii. Whatever he did, it was a serious offense, and he was tossed into an Italian prison. That was long ago, and I don’t believe he’s been released yet.“

Burns was tempted to tell her, as he sometimes did his freshman writing students, that what she had said was interesting but off the subject. It had nothing to do with the topic under discussion. But he didn’t think Dr. Partridge wanted any lessons in organization at the moment.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she said, “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but I wanted you to know at least one of the reasons Steven and his son were so close. The son took the place of the person who was gone, and they were great friends. But Steven set very high standards for his son, and he was quite disappointed when he didn’t make the grade here at HGC.“