Murder as a Second Language (16 page)

“I don't think so,” I said.

Gregory nudged me aside and introduced himself. “What happened involved an attempted burglary, not an act of terrorism. Police suspect that the victim, Mrs. Ludmila Grabowski, encountered the burglar and was shoved so violently that she took a fatal fall. This has nothing to do with international anything.”

Keiko stepped forward. “I am the program director, and I am personally acquainted with all of our students. They are good people who wish to find better jobs, communicate with their children's teachers and doctors, pay taxes, and be members of this community. Please respect their privacy.” She twinkled at them.

Sonya appeared at Gregory's side like an apparition. I realized that it was possible that one of the phone calls I'd blithely transferred to Gregory might have been hers. I had been well beyond asking for any caller's identity. She showed all of her teeth to the reporters. “I'm a member of the Faberville Literacy Council board. Our president, Frances North, could not be here because of work-related responsibilities. She will be issuing a formal statement later in the day.” Her smile faded. “On behalf of the board, I'd like to extend our deepest condolences to Bartek Grabowski for the loss of his beloved grandmother. She was a part of our little community and an enthusiastic participant. She will be missed. Contributions in her honor can be made on our Web site.”

Gregory was displeased to be shuttled aside. Easing in front of Sonya, he said, “Thank you very much for coming. At this time, we are all distressed by this tragic accident, but we hope you can come back at a happier time so we can share our program with you and your viewers. Good-bye.”

We all trooped inside. Sonya followed Keiko into her office. I looked at Gregory. “So, Ludmila was killed by a burglar? Have the police determined what the burglar was after? The copy machine is hardly state-of-the-art, but there are a lot of computers. That doesn't explain why the burglar and Ludmila were in the copy room.”

He snorted. “I had to say something. Do you want the villagers to descend on the castle with torches, intent on ridding Farberville of foreign terrorists? We have students from Iran, Egypt, Korea, and China, as well as the Latinos and Europeans. Have you met the Buddhist monk with the shaved head? What about the women in saris? Do you believe the rednecks know the difference between ‘hijab' and ‘jihad'? If you want, go ahead and shoot me.”

“You're right,” I said. “Congratulations on not choking when Sonya said Ludmila will be missed.” He shrugged as he went into his office. I resumed my seat and gazed glumly at the telephone. I wished it would succumb to the fate of Salvador Dalí's melting pocket watches. In retaliation for my mean-spirited thoughts, it rang. As I picked up the receiver, the students who'd been in the parking lot came in, talking and gesticulating. They stopped in front of my desk and began to pepper me with questions about the TV van and reporters. The caller said something, but I couldn't hear enough to understand him. I covered my right ear with my hand and said, “You'll have to speak up. It's noisy here.” He said something that sounded like “Leslie.” I tried to shoo away the students without success. “Leslie is teaching,” I replied. “Can you call back?”

“Waterford!” he shouted.

“Okay,” I said and then hung up. Leslie might be collecting Waterford crystal, although I hadn't seen any pieces in her house. I wrote the word on a piece of paper, adding the time. I looked up and smiled. “What seems to be the problem?”

*   *   *

Half an hour later I had done my best to satisfy everyone's curiosity, handed Leslie the note about her crystal, and watched Sonya leave. I was most decidedly hungry, and I wasn't inclined to search the desk drawers for a granola bar. I went into Keiko's office. “The Fair Labor Standards Act gives me the right to a lunch break. I'm taking it now.”

“Excellent idea, Mrs. Marroy. May I join you? We can go to bar across the street. They have good chili dogs.”

“And leave Gregory in charge?”

She covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled. “Maybe his burglar will come back and Gregory will pounce on him like a tiger.” She punched a button on the telephone. “Anyone who calls will have to leave a message. Let's go, Mrs. Marroy.”

Only a few students were in the lounge, and no one seemed disconcerted when we went outside. We walked across the parking lot and made our way into what touted itself as a sports bar. Posters advertised upcoming pay-for-view boxing events. The prime decor consisted of TV sets, neon beer logos, and football paraphernalia on the walls. Two pool tables were in use. Keiko led me to a booth in a far corner.

“I am so happy to have lunch with you, Mrs. Marroy.”

“Please call me Claire.” I was very sincere. It occurred to me that I should have come up with a name that she couldn't mangle.

We picked up menus. When a waiter appeared, Keiko ordered a cheeseburger, fries, onion rings, and a chocolate milk shake. I opted for chicken salad. After the waiter wandered away, I leaned forward. “Will you promise not to get upset if we talk about Ludmila?” I asked, having made sure the napkin dispenser was filled.

“I promise. If I sniffle, you can kick me under the table, Claire-san.”

“After the board meeting Monday night, I left. What happened then?”

She sat for a moment, frowning. “A former student came by to tell me about his new job and his twin boys. Mr. Whitbream was annoyed because he had to wait until Ngozi left before he could ask me about Toby. I told him Toby was doing okay. He acted like he didn't believe me and demanded to know how many hours Toby worked. I told him I didn't know, since I normally leave at five. I was there Monday night because of the board meeting. Other nights a volunteer sits at the reception desk in case someone has a problem. On Mondays and Wednesdays we close at eight, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays at nine.”

“Who locks up?” I asked.

“Gregory, if he's there, or the volunteer. Leslie has a key. Most of the time Toby arrives before everyone is gone. He has a key so he can lock the door when he leaves.”

“So closing time on Monday was eight,” I said. “Who was there when you left?”

Keiko massaged her neck. “You sound like that detective, Claire-san. Questions and more questions. Gregory was still in his office. Mr. Sangine was in the classroom with a couple of students who were showing him their checkbooks. Ludmila sat at a table, her cane clutched in her fist and her face frozen. Miao and Jiang were in the lounge area, arguing. I tried to listen while I gathered up the newspapers, but they were speaking Chinese. When I went into the parking lot, I saw a group of students walking toward the bus stop. I am told this happens every night.”

I hadn't seen a hint of a tear or heard a crack in her voice. I pressed onward. “Were you the first person to arrive at the Literacy Council Tuesday morning?”

“I always come at seven forty-five. Some students meet with their tutors before they go to work. I unlocked the door, turned on lights, and made coffee. Mr. Rapetti often stops at the bakery on his way, and on that morning he brought me a cinnamon roll. It was so wonderful that I kissed him! I hope he doesn't tell Mrs. Rapetti.”

I was going to have to phrase my questions carefully in order not to be inundated with too much information. “Was the door to the copy room closed?”

She wrinkled her nose. “It must have been. I walked by it when I went to make coffee.”

“Then who discovered Ludmila's body?”

“A Chinese girl named Luo Shiwen. Everybody heard her scream. She was standing just outside the door, pointing at the blood. Mr. Rapetti entered the room and saw a foot sticking out from under boxes. He moved a box, saw that it was Ludmila, and told all of us to stay outside. I called the police, but I was very upset.” She gave me a wry smile. “Maybe you already knew that.”

“I suspected that was the case,” I said. “Did Mr. Rapetti see anything else?”

Keiko shook her head. “He was in there for not as long as a minute, and he was too shocked to have noticed a clue. I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack. He is quite old. One of the students took him to the back classroom and made him a cup of tea. I am concerned because he has not come in today.”

I thought for a moment. “Tell me about Luo.”

“She is from Beijing and a student at the college, studying some sort of chemistry. She and Miao share an apartment. She told me they met at an International Students Association meeting on campus and liked each other. Luo is older, almost twenty-five. Her English is not good, but better than Miao's.” Keiko paused. “Luo usually meets with her tutor late in the afternoon. She told me she has classes all day. Maybe her schedule is different now, since summer school has started.”

“Do you know why she opened the door and looked in the copy room?”

“When we found the body, everything got crazy. Mr. Rapetti turned gray and almost collapsed. Two of the Korean girls started sobbing. I went to my office to call nine-one-one. I was too busy to talk to anybody after that.”

The waiter appeared with our food. Keiko was undaunted by the quantity of her order and dove into her cheeseburger as if she'd emerged from the tower after a month of bread and water. I picked at the chicken salad and declined her offer of onion rings. Grease dribbled down her chin. In less than ten minutes, Keiko had consumed eight million calories and was looking at the dessert menu. I estimated her dress size to be a two, or maybe a four. I was awed by her metabolism.

I ordered coffee, and she ordered a brownie sundae. “You mentioned that Luo and Miao shared an apartment. Have you heard from Miao?”

“You know her grandfather died? Yes, she sent a note with Luo that she was returning to China. Jiang is angry because she did not tell him. She told me that they met in college, and he followed her here. He wants to get married, but she wants to wait until they finish school. I think he is studying engineering. Is that important?”

“No, I think it's romantic. I'm still curious why Luo would go into the copy room. Did she come in this morning?”

Keiko was distracted by the arrival of her dessert. After wolfing down a goodly portion of it, she said, “I did not see her, but I was in my office. I wish I'd stayed there during the press conference. It was Gregory's idea, but we don't need that kind of publicity.”

“The story was out there,” I said, “and needed to be addressed. I have to say that I was surprised when you spoke to Gregory in that tone of voice.”

“He won't fire me because he knows he can't replace me. I am paid slightly more than minimum wage, and no overtime. Gregory is an annoying little dictator who can't be bothered with petty things like utility bills. He doesn't know the names of the students—except for Ludmila. He never observes a class or a tutoring session. He has no idea where to find paper towels or toilet paper. When he's there, he prowls around with a smirk on his face.”

“Oh,” I said, leaning back against the bench. I'd made assumptions about her based on a stereotype. She was no anime teenager or repressed geisha. I took a drink of coffee. “I thought the press conference went well. Did Gregory call Sonya?”

“I didn't.” She licked her spoon and waved at the waiter. “There may be a hundred messages by now. I will listen to them. If you want to leave, I will find a student to sit at the desk. Yelena is always offering.” She handed a credit card to the waiter. “This is on the Literacy Council. I know you will solve this mystery quickly so we can continue to offer our program. Maybe the publicity will bring in a few donations.”

I accompanied her across the street and into the building. I was eager to abandon my assignment so that I could talk to Luo Shiwen. Keiko looked inside Leslie's classroom and shook her head. I asked her to find Luo's file and followed her into her office. She wrote down an address on a slip of paper and handed it to me.

“Do you think Gregory's still here?” I asked.

Keiko batted her thick eyelashes. “Do you care?”

I didn't.

 

9

Luo and Miao lived in an apartment complex on the campus bus route. The two-story buildings, painted gray with blue trim, were crammed together along winding paved roads. Most of the balconies were crowded with aluminum chairs, grills, beer coolers, and hanging plants. Towels flapped on railings, and wind chimes jangled. It was afternoon, and I was surprised at the number of students lying beside the pool or lazing on their balconies. It was a busy place.

I cleverly deduced that I needed to find Building IX, since Luo and Miao lived in number 917. After several futile turns, I finally spotted the pertinent Roman numerals and parked. Their apartment was on the second floor. Luo was more likely to be out than in, and I prepared myself for disappointment as I rang the bell.

Locks clicked, and the door opened. Luo was as tall as I. Her face was broad, her features flat. She lacked Miao's delicacy. “Who are you?” she demanded, proving she also lacked Miao's timidity.

“I'm from the Literacy Council. I came by to make sure you're okay. Keiko said you were upset when you discovered Ludmila's body.” When she blinked, I stepped forward. “May I come in?”

“Yes.” She locked the door behind me.

I went into a small but nicely furnished living room. The few bits of pottery and artwork were Chinese. A plaster Buddha smiled down from a high shelf. I sat down and waited until Luo perched on the edge of a chair. “Have you recovered from the shock?” I asked.

“I fine now,” she said haltingly. “I never see you at Literacy Council before.”

A lovely opening, I thought. “That's right, Luo. I only come there in the mornings. Keiko told me that you meet with your tutor in the afternoons. Why were you there Tuesday morning?”