Sounds of Murder (25 page)

Rex continued to remain silent. She couldn't
tell if he was going to speak or do anything. She waited.

"How?'" he finally muttered, trance-like.

"I don't really think how is the important
question, Rex," she responded, "I think the more important question
is why."

Rex slowly began to sense his surroundings.
He glanced at Pamela, then at the door, and then around the room.
Ever so slowly, he took a few steps towards her, raised his hand,
reached behind him, and gently and quietly, closed her office door.
Pamela was braced for this; she suspected he would not respond with
remorse.

"Why?" he repeated her words in a husky
whisper, as he moved carefully closer to her desk. "Why? I'll tell
you, Miss Busybody. Because your buddy Charlotte Clark couldn't
mind her own damn business, just like you. There was no reason for
her to demand that we include our dissertations in our tenure
portfolios. She just did that to ruin me. I knew it as soon as she
made that requirement. It was evident that she wanted that Delmondo
chick tenured over me--she's always been her pet. And when word got
out that the Dean was only allowing two candidates to have
tenure--I knew she was out to get me."

"But, Rex," said Pamela, her eyes never
leaving his for a moment, "you were in an excellent position for
tenure. Your publication record is stellar and actually far
superior to Laura's."

He chuckled. "Well, not exactly. Let’s just
say that Phineas is a major part of my publication record," he
noted mockingly.

"You mean you haven’t contributed much to
your articles with Phin?" she guessed.

"I am," he mused, continuing his slow
progress forward, "shall we say--the front man. A position Phin
used to appreciate, but hasn’t seemed to value as much as he
should--lately."

“The two of you must have been fighting
because he doesn’t feel it’s fair for you to keep on being rewarded
for his work. In other words, you shouldn’t have ever gotten first
author billing on any of your articles, right?”

“That little chump has the gall to think I
should remove my name from consideration for tenure,” he
sneered.

So that was it, she thought, Phineas wasn’t
asking about the possibility of removing his name from
consideration for tenure, he was asking about the possibility of
removing Rex’s name.

She said, "And I suppose Charlotte somehow
figured out that the two of you were arguing about this, and she
managed to put two and two together and determined that your
credentials were—shall we say—less than sterling.”

"Your precious Charlotte," he scowled, "just
had to go and start digging around in places where she didn't
belong, thanks to that damn subscription database."

"Just what did she discover?" asked Pamela,
cautiously.

He shrugged, his eyes still in line with
Pamela's. Suddenly, it all became clear—the Culver dissertation,
the secret notebook.

"You--you plagiarized your dissertation,
didn’t you?" she exclaimed.

"Whatever," he scoffed, "It didn't matter.
She would’ve made something up if she hadn't found what I’d pulled
from Culver’s dissertation. She wanted her precious Laura to get
tenure. She always had to get her own way. When she came into my
office Tuesday afternoon and told me exactly what she was going to
do, what she suspected, and how she was going to track it down,
jeez, it was like she was asking me to kill her." He spoke as if he
believed Charlotte’s murder was justified.

"And you were happy to oblige," responded
Pamela.

"Of course," he smiled, getting closer to the
desk and side-stepping his way around it towards Pamela, saying,
"I'm always happy to oblige a lady." With that, he reached out
towards her and grabbed her neck. Pamela pushed him back hard with
both hands while at the same time screaming at the top of her
lungs.

"You bitch!" he snarled, but he didn't let
go. He struggled to gain a tighter hold as she pushed back hard and
screamed again.

"Shut up!" he growled, shoving her backwards
against her wall. Pamela frantically tried to extricate her neck
from his grasp. Their struggle knocked over her desk chair. Pamela
was becoming tired.

"Stop it!" he threatened. “I should’ve run
you into a ditch Friday night and finished you off then!” He
slammed her against the wall, pushing on her neck and upper body as
hard as he could.

She was now unable to get her hands between
his hands and her neck. Her cries were stopped by the pressure his
large hands were placing on her throat.

When she believed she couldn’t last one more
second without air, she heard footsteps in the hallway, people
calling her name, and the sound of her office door rattling.

Chapter 24

His hands pushed hard on her throat and his
upper body pressed her into the wall. The back of her head was
smashed up against a framed copy of her doctoral diploma. A lot of
good this certificate did her now in fighting for her life, she
thought.

Rex's cheek was a whisker away from hers as
he growled into her ear, "You stupid bitch! Why couldn't you leave
well enough alone?"

She was struggling for air and desperately
trying to push him away. Sounds of people outside the door,
yelling, and the door rattling wavered at the corner of her
consciousness.

Rex seemed oblivious to the sounds in the
hall. He was totally focused on squeezing the life out of her.

All of a sudden, the door exploded and
slammed against the far wall—reverberating wildly. Shoop burst into
the room, followed by several officers with guns drawn. Joan, Kent,
and Willard were clumped in a group, peeking in from the
hallway.

Rex grimaced as Shoop directed the officers
to pull him away from Pamela, which they did, shoving him
forcefully against the far wall. Joan ran into the room and put her
arms around Pamela’s shoulders and guided her to the sofa. Pamela
was limp, shaking, her hands touching her throat, feeling for
damage. Kent and Willard watched from the doorway.

"My God, Dr. Barnes! Are you all right?"
called out Kent.

"Don't make her talk," said Joan, holding up
a hand to Kent, "Her throat might be injured."

"Shall I call I doctor?" asked Kent.

"No," said Pamela, in a dry, choked voice,
"I'm all right. Just scared."

"Cuff him," said Shoop to the officers, and
the two men turned Rex around and pulled his arms behind him,
quickly snapping handcuffs on his wrists.

"Kent," directed Joan, "why don't you go get
Dr. Barnes a glass of water."

"A pitcher--in my refrigerator," Pamela spoke
hoarsely, pointing her finger at her coffee cup on her desk. Kent
grabbed the cup, went to the small icebox, and poured her a drink
of water. She swallowed the liquid hungrily. It felt wonderful in
her throat and cooling.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you, all."

Detective Shoop spoke to her, looking
somewhat sheepish.

"Dr. Barnes," he said, "Sorry it took us so
long to get inside your office. We were all ready to go, hiding out
in Dr. Bentley’s office, but the bastard managed to lock your door.
We should have planned better. That was too close."

"Detective Shoop," replied Pamela, now calmer
and somewhat amused by the lanky man, "I’m just grateful you and
your men were here as my---my back-up, as you say. Anyway, we at
least have proof that Dr. Tyson murdered Dr. Clark now."

“You have nothing!” cried Rex.

“Actually, Rex,” she said, turning to where
he stood handcuffed, “I do,” and she drew the tiny hand-held
tape-recorder from her pocket. “I have your entire confession right
here.”

"Dr. Barnes, I guess we're going to have to
put you on the payroll,” noted Shoop. All right, everyone, let's
all get out of here and give Dr. Barnes a chance to catch her
breath. The officers will take care of---the suspect. I had my
doubts about you, Tyson right from the git go. Anyway, men, get him
out of here."

The police officers quickly dragged Rex out
of Pamela’s office.

“My dear,” whispered Joan to Pamela, “This
has been a day to remember. You catch the killer and I get locked
in my office with three hunky police men.” She gave her a quick hug
and then led Willard and Kent out of the office and down the
hallway.
Pamela found herself alone with Shoop. She was seated on the sofa,
wondering if the man would manage to extricate her from her
comfortable position, so he could lounge on her couch again.
However, Shoop remained standing.

"So, Dr. Barnes," he said, peering down at
her, ”You solved the murder, it appears.” He stared at her
intently.

She heard small footsteps running down the
hall. Angela appeared in the doorway breathless.

"Mom!" she cried, running to her mother on
the couch and hugging her tightly, "Are you okay? Kent said someone
tried to kill you."

"I'm fine, sweetheart," she replied, enjoying
every second of a very infrequent hug from her daughter. "This is
Detective Shoop, who’s investigating the case. Detective, my
daughter Angela."

The big detective bowed courteously to the
young woman. Angela, oblivious, turned to her mother.

"Mom," she begged, "This is terrible. You
should go home."

"I’m afraid, dear," shrugged Pamela, "that
the detective needs to question me about what happened."

"Can't you wait until tomorrow?" Angela
demanded of the detective. Pamela was delighted to see her daughter
defend her so strongly. This was the most affection she had shown
her in ages and Pamela was enjoying every moment of it.

"Hmmm," he sighed, realizing that it was
probably hopeless to accomplish much at the moment. "Dr. Barnes, if
you’d be so kind as to come down to headquarters tomorrow and give
us your statement, I guess we can let you go home. You’ve been
through quite a bit today, and it does appear that you’re no longer
in any immediate danger."

"That would be wonderful," she smiled sweetly
at him. He tucked his notebook back in his pocket and shook hands
with both women and then departed quickly.

"Mom," repeated Angela, giving her mother a
quick hug, "I can't believe all this. You’re like a hero--or
something." A hug too! Will wonders never cease?

"Actually," noted Pamela, "Jane Marie, Joan,
Willard, and Kent were here too. They followed the police in when
Rex was trying to kill me."

"You mean Kent saved your life?"

"Sort of. He certainly did help." She noted
how impressed her daughter was with this new accolade draped over
the shoulders of the obviously remarkable Kent.

"Wow!"

"Tell you what," she hugged her daughter
warmly, "Let's get out of here."

The two—mother and daughter--headed out.
Pamela stopped briefly in the main office to grab her mail and to
let Jane Marie know she was leaving.

As she entered Jane Marie’s small alcove, she
discovered a mob of people gathered--Kent, Willard, Phineas, Joan,
Laura, Bob, Arliss, and several other graduate students—almost the
entire department. Actually, they were all standing around Jane
Marie's desk, as Jane Marie described what had happened between Rex
and Pamela. When Pamela entered, they all parted way for her, all
expressing concern. Obviously, Jane Marie was the source to go to
for the latest scoop on this departmental excitement. Angela stood
back from the group of faculty and watched while her mother became
the center of attention.

Joan gave Pamela an especially long squeeze.
Arliss hugged her too.

"’Same 'ol, same 'ol,’ my foot," Pamela
whispered to Arliss, returning the hug. Arliss gave her a look of
confusion, and Pamela nodded slyly in the direction of Bob Goodman,
at which Arliss blushed deeply, “You can certainly keep a
secret.”

The others shook her hand, patted her on the
back or hugged her. She felt a tremendous amount of love from her
colleagues.

At that moment, Mitchell's door opened and
the department head called to her.

"Dr. Barnes," he cried, "Thank God, you’re
all right! If you don't mind, I’d really like to speak with you
about all of this--just for a moment." He awaited her response,
which he assumed would be for her to enter his office.

"Um, Mitchell," she hesitated, "my daughter
Angela is with me. I promised her I’d take her home.... "

"I'll be glad to take Angie home, Dr.
Barnes," spoke up Kent, who was chatting quietly with Angela
towards the back of the well-wishers.

"Wonderful!" announced Mitchell, and grabbed
Pamela's elbow and escorted her into his office. Pamela looked back
at her daughter, who waved a friendly good-bye as she headed out
with Kent at her side.

“Jane Marie,” begged Pamela, “would you
please call my husband and tell him I’ll be a bit late and
why?”

“Sure, Dr. Barnes.” She gave Pamela a
heartfelt look of sympathy.

The pack of faculty members dissipated with
Pamela's disappearance into Mitchell's inner sanctum.

Mitchell gestured for Pamela to sit and took
his royal place at his large desk.

"My God!" he said, shaking his head, "I can't
believe all of this has happened. Your life was threatened. And
Rex. He’s such a cheerful, good-natured guy. Lord, he has a wife
and two small children. It never crossed my mind that he was
capable of such a thing."

"Me neither," she answered, "But it's over
now. It's really over, Mitchell. The killer’s been caught and we
don't have to be frightened anymore."

"Yes," he said, sighing. "What a devastating
thing for you--for us—for the department."

"I know," she replied, "To lose two faculty
members in such a terrible way."

They were both silent for a moment.

"Pamela," he then said, carefully, "Jane
Marie told me how worried you and she have been about certain
things that have happened recently—in addition, of course, to
Charlotte’s murder. Given what you’ve just gone through, I think
you have a right to know something. It’s something I’ve already
told Jane Marie. But, I’d just ask that you keep what I’m going to
tell you private."