“All right. You did good. You all did good. Now stay apart. I don’t think we should be seen together for awhile,” I said.
“Awe, Professor,” Ralphy said in a sad voice. “Does this mean you’re breaking up with me?”
I could hear Jason laughing on the phone. I smiled.
I was curious to find out about our follower. I waited a few minutes until they got some feedback from the patrol car, then I called Security again,
We are a small private school and Hastings is a small town so the police and campus security work together frequently, and well. The Campus Security guards look menacing but they’re good guys whose main job is checking to see if the doors are locked at night. But their director, Carl Mandissa, is a real cop. He worked Chicago PD before heading the force here.
“Find out anything, Carl?” I asked.
“My car is still going north on 27. I called Hastings Police and they’ve got two cars in town, looking for a small, silver four door.”
“What about your surveillance cameras in the lot? Anything good on them, Carl?”
“I haven’t checked yet. I’ll send someone to bring me the tapes and I’ll let you know,” he said.
I repeated the description that Ralphy gave me of Veronica’s tailer and clicked off my cell. I left the empty classroom as class was just getting out. Veronica was in front of 206, her books still clutched to her chest, twisting and tapping her feet.
“There you are, Professor!” she said. “What happened?”
“We didn’t get him, he got away,” I replied.
She moved close to me, pulled me down and whispered in my ear, “Am I in danger?”
“No, but to be on the safe side, how about you change your appearance—different clothes, a different look? Just for a few days, anyway,” I said.
“Are you sure I’m not in danger?”
“I would never put you in danger, Veronica. It’s just a precaution,” I said, as we walked across the quad to Griffon Hall for her next class.
Why Veronica? What does she have that our thief wants? Could this just be some lovesick kid following a pretty girl? I don’t think so. Would a lovesick kid have a getaway car poised like that?
Back at my office I found a message on my desk, “Call Leo Conti. Important.”
I dialed Leo. “Yeah?” he said.
“It’s Palma. I’m returning your call.”
“It’s about those fingerprints.”
“The ones on the books and CDs?” I asked.
“Yes. None were on our, or the federal, database. There was one set of prints that were on most of the items but we can’t find out whose they were. So it was one guy, who pulled all the books and CDs but we don’t know who. Is that any help?”
“I guess. Not much, but something to think about,” I said. “Thanks, Leo, I appreciate your help.” I hung up thinking that we were no closer to getting our bowl back when the phone rang again. It was Myrna March.
“I talked with Charles last night, at dinner.”
“How was it? Did you have fun?” I asked.
“Yes, I did have fun which makes this so hard to do. I feel like Mata Hari.” She paused. “Anyway, I asked if he or Madame use our library. He said he’s never been there and he doubts if Madame Petrovsky has ever been there either. He was very nice and I felt like a crumb asking him those questions.”
“They probably have nothing to do with the bowl. I just wanted to see how he would answer the question.”
Curiouser and curiouser.
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Louie Flann lives in Naples, Florida with his wife where he is completing his second mystery novel. He has a married son and loves to travel, dine and care for his electric car.
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