Ouch. Fortunately, he was there, all right. I broke the news gently.
“Oh good heavens,” Edward Collard said. “One of our students? You’re sure? Drowned? Oh good heavens. Maggie Warren? Yes, I know who she is. Oh, her poor parents. Yes, of course. I’ll meet you at my office in five minutes. Oh good heavens.”
The “oh good heavens” sounded like an older man, but this guy was mid forties, if that. As soon as I saw him, the image from five years ago clicked in — tall, thin, pale, sharp featured, nervous. The hairline had receded maybe another inch since the last time I’d seen him, but the hair rounding off the back of his head was still thick and black and glossy. He unlocked the door to his private office, pointed Bolt and me to matching yellow leather armchairs facing his desk, sat down at his computer, and called up Maggie Warren’s file.
“Poor Maggie,” he said. “A nice girl. She’s faced some challenges but handled them well. Chemistry major, 3.5 average last year. Failed an Intro to Poli Sci midterm this semester, but Dr. Skotten is a demanding professor. So, Officers. How can I help? You needn’t notify the family; I’ll do that.”
“Fine,” I said. “Our concern is figuring out the circumstances of her death. We found her body below Petite Falls. Any thoughts on how it happened?”
“Oh good heavens.” He patted his forehead fretfully, as if still expecting to find hair there. “Those stepping-stones — such a temptation, such a hazard. She must have been taking a solitary stroll when she spotted them. Filled with the giddy spirit of youthful exuberance, she decided to cross. But she lost her balance — that can happen, even to young people as physically fit as our Culbert students.”
“Maybe it happened like that,” I acknowledged. “But some things seem odd. For example, she was blindfolded with a blue silk scarf. Does that suggest anything to you?”
I can’t definitely say he blanched — with a guy that pale, it’s hard to tell when the pastiness level escalates. “Why, the giddy spirit of youthful exuberance,” he said. “That must be why she freely chose to increase the challenge by blindfolding herself. A tragic choice, but not surprising, given the sense of adventure typical of Culbert students. A similarly adventuresome spirit leads sixty-two percent of them to go on our fine study abroad programs. Do you know about our programs? I have some brochures—”
“We also found a Pi Alpha Kappa pledge pin on her sweater,” I said, “and a hundred and ninety-eight blue M&M’s. Any special significance to the color blue?”
This time, he blanched for sure. He turned a paler shade of white, or a whiter shade of pale, however the song goes. “Now that you mention it, blue is Pi Alpha’s signature color. The pledges wear blue scarves during Hell Week — as it happens, last week. And on Hell Night — as it happens, last night — each pledge turns in two hundred blue M&M’s. That’s one of the harmless rituals now typical at Culbert. Here. I’ll show you.” He took a paper from a folder on his desk. “I created these forms after that incident in 1998. It was my first year, and, oh good heavens, I nearly lost my job, though I hadn’t yet had time to repair the damage done by my predecessor. He turned a blind eye to the worst initiation practices, to — oh good heavens, to decadence, to, well, exploitation. Some fraternities — well, the young women were willing enough, and not exactly nice to begin with, but... I now require all fraternities and sororities to turn in lists of Hell Week activities, and I allow nothing that is not completely innocent and safe. See for yourself.”
The list did look completely innocent and safe. And completely dull.
•You must wear your pledge scarf around your neck every day, all day!
•You may not wash your hair — all week!
•You must collect 200 blue M&M’s — that’s right, 200! We’ll count!
•Join us at Elaine’s Salon at 2:00 for a hairstyling and manicure — our treat!
•Have dinner with us at Sushi Gardens at 6:00 — our treat!
•Go on our Super Pi Alpha Scavenger Hunt!
•When you’ve found your Scavenger Hunt treasure, bring it and all your M&M’s to the Pi Alpha House for snacks, secrets, and fun!
“And these are their only Hell Week activities?” I said. “They wouldn’t sneak something in on the sly, like a blindfolded trust walk across the stepping-stones?”
He shook his head. “They wouldn’t dare. Any fraternity or sorority engaging in unauthorized activities loses party privileges for a full year. I’ve made that my policy, and I’ve stood by it. Thank God, I haven’t actually had to enforce it.”
That sounded good. I turned to Bolt. “Some challenges,” I said, thinking of the tough times the dean had been through with these fraternities and sororities.
Bolt nodded briskly. “Excellent reminder, sir. Dean Collard, you said Miss Warren faced ‘some challenges’ but handled them well. Would you elaborate?”
Damn. I’d forgotten the dean said that. Evidently, he’d forgotten, too. “It’s nothing, Officer,” he said, blushing, bringing his pasty complexion to near pink. “Maggie just had trouble keeping up with tuition payments.”
“She’s from a poor family?” I asked.
“No.” He shook his head in a decisive snap. “Both her parents are employed — her father’s a teacher, her mother’s a nurse — and they own a three-bedroom house and two cars. True, Maggie has three siblings, but according to our financial aid formula, the parents’ income is sufficient for that. And Maggie waitressed for two years before college.” He tapped more computer keys. “My records show she applied for a work-study job this September, but we had to say no. Those jobs are reserved for students with financial need, and she showed no such need. Her own savings are gone, of course, but her parents may have something stashed away, and they could always sell their second car, or take out a second mortgage, or find second jobs.”
I won’t describe the exact circumstances, Mother, but just recently, Ellen had snuggled up and said maybe Kevin would like a sibling. Now, I was extra glad I’d pretended to be asleep. “So you didn’t offer Maggie any help?” I asked.
“Of course I did,” he said indignantly. “I gave her a list of fast-food restaurants seeking employees. Soon after that, I heard she’d pledged Pi Alpha Kappa. I was delighted. The Pi Alpha girls are exceptional, all honors students, and they give more to charity than any other group on campus. And they never get into trouble — no loud parties, no alcohol-related incidents.”
Well, those girls did sound awfully nice — unless they’d blindfolded Maggie, bullied her onto the stepping-stones, and run off in a panic when she fell. When we left, the dean was doing some deep-breathing exercises, summoning up courage to call Maggie’s family.
As we walked across campus, my stomach started to rumble. No wonder — three o’clock, and I hadn’t had lunch. We could grab something at a restaurant, but it seemed silly to bother with lunch so close to dinnertime. Besides, Ellen and I had spent a grim hour going over bills this weekend, and we’d agreed I’d brown-bag it for the rest of the month.
“Doesn’t really make sense,” I remarked to Bolt, figuring he too was thinking about lunch by now. “It’s awful late, and those expenses add up.”
His head jerked back, and that familiar now-I-see-it look popped into his eyes. “You’re right, sir!” he said. “Sophomore year is awfully late to pledge a sorority — most students join as freshmen. And dues, extra charges for living in a sorority house — those expenses do add up. It doesn’t make sense for a girl so concerned about finances to suddenly decide to pledge. Thank you for articulating that so clearly.”