Quokka Question

TWENTY-ONE

Georgia had put me back to work collating stuff for the symposium attendees, and when I got to the room, Erin was already there, wandering from desk to desk, listlessly collecting a page from each neat pile. Apart from us, the room was empty.

"G'day," I said.

"Oh, hi, Carol."

"Kylie."

"Sorry. Kylie."

For a change, she wasn't crying, but sniffs punctuated the silence every few moments. After a particularly loud sniff, Erin said to me, "Have the cops interviewed you yet?"

"About Dr. Braithwaite? Why would they want to? I don't know anything."

Erin's eyes immediately filled with tears. "You're lucky," she wailed. "I've been interviewed twice, and they don't believe me when I'm telling God's honest truth."

"That's rough," I said.

Erin grabbed my arm-she was turning into a bit of a clutcher. "You said I was being set up," she said, "and you were right. I told the detectives that Georgia Tapp was lying when she said she'd never spoken to me about Dr. Braithwaite, but they just said it was my word against hers."

"I'm sure they'll find out the truth in the end," I said soothingly.

"That's what Jack said this morning." Erin had given up any pretense of calling him Professor Yarrow. She released my arm to blow her nose on a tattered Kleenex. "Jack said he'd have a word with Georgia, and find out what was going on."

"So he believes you. That's good."

Whoops! She'd re-clutched my arm, and her eyes were brimming with tears again. "He wants to," she cried, "he really does, but the scientist in him forces him to say he doesn't know what to believe."

"Let's go over it again," I said, "right from the very beginning, when you were working with Oscar Braithwaite in Australia…"

As instructed, before I left UCLA in the afternoon, I reported to Georgia. She was tapping away on her keyboard, and looked up with a rosy face when I knocked.

"Kylie! Come in." Obviously Yarrow had told her to be friendly and welcoming, because she bestowed a bright smile on me. "Professor Yarrow told me to expect you. You're here to report on Erin?"

I gave her back my warmest smile. "Crikey, you work hard," I said admiringly. "All that work organizing people for the Global Marsupial Symposium as well as keeping up with your own job-I don't know how you do it."

Georgia looked gratified. "Working for an eminent professor is demanding," she agreed. "But it's so rewarding." She gestured toward the papers beside her computer. "Truly, I feel I'm part of scientific history, setting down the words of the extraordinary keynote address Professor Yarrow will deliver to the symposium on Friday."

"The one on quokkas that Dr. Braithwaite was going to do?"

A shadow crossed her well-fed face. "Tragic death, of course, but almost like fate had stepped in to save Professor Yarrow from an unwarranted attack upon his reputation." She lay a hand flat on the pile of papers. "These contain the professor's groundbreaking and entirely original research. He's calling it 'The Quokka Question.'"

My eyes were riveted on the pages under her hand. This had to be the only existing version of Oscar's work, stolen by Yarrow. No doubt he'd rewritten some of it, but the basic elements would be the same. If I could only get my hands on those pages…but then I had nothing to compare them with. Erin had told me she'd destroyed all copies Oscar had before she'd left for the States.

"And how is little Erin Fogarty?" Georgia inquired. "Professor Yarrow is so worried about her emotional state."

"Bearing up surprisingly well under the circumstances." I'd decided no matter what state Erin was in, I'd give a positive report. I was working on the principle that Yarrow would not be inclined to fake a suicide, if that was his intention, while Erin appeared to be coping with the situation.

"Indeed?" said Georgia, rather surprised. "I gathered she was, as the saying goes, falling to pieces."

"She's rallied," I said. "I think Professor Yarrow taking an interest in her welfare has made her feel much better."

"It's so typical of the man," said Georgia, starry-eyed. I watched her stacking the pages I coveted and placing them in a folder. She closed the file on the computer, and turned it off. "Academic meeting," she said. "The professor likes me by his side, taking notes on important points."

She put the quokka folder in the bottom drawer of her desk, then locked with a key she took from the top drawer of her desk. This wasn't, I was pleased to observe, my idea of security.

Georgia picked up her notebook, pen, and purse; she ushered me out of her office and locked the door with a key she returned to her purse. Obviously, if I wanted a look at Yarrow's keynote address, it would have to be when the office door was open, perhaps sometime tomorrow.

I'd left plenty of time to get back to Kendall & Creeling for Pen's meeting with Ariana. For once, the traffic was flowing well, so I had twenty minutes to spare when I pulled into our parking area.

Fran was just about to clamber into her SUV. Naturally, it was one of those bulky, looming vehicles-would Fran have anything else?- so it was a struggle for someone as short as she was to make the driver's seat.

"Want a leg up?" I said.

Fran was preoccupied and didn't hear me. "Something's wrong with Melodie," she said.

"What sort of wrong?"

Fran gave me a puzzled scowl. "She's being nice to me."

" 'Strewth, that is a worry."

"She actually said she was glad I was to play Lucy/Lucas. Can you believe it?"

I shook my head. "Amazing."

"Of course I asked Melodie why she'd had a change of heart. She said she'd had a psychic flash about the casting." Fran made a derisive sound. "Like, I believe that."

I shook my head again. "Strange things happen."

With an effort, Fran got herself into the SUV's driver's seat. She put down the window and leaned out to say, "Speaking of strange things, Quip told me what you two were talking about this morning."

"Oh?" I said, wondering what story he'd come up with.

She tossed off a scornful laugh. "Kylie, as if you could play Ethel/Ethelbert!"

"Quip told you I was aiming to audition for the part?"

"I had to drag it out of him, but yes."

"Hell's bells," I said, "you've got to aim high in life, you know, Fran. Fortunately, Quip let me down gently, pointing out this was way too high. He's a bonzer bloke."

Fran turned the ignition, and her behemoth roared to life. "Quip's all mine," she yelled above the noise. "Don't you ever forget it."

My smile faded as I ambled across the courtyard to the front door. In a few minutes I'd face Ariana, and I wasn't sure how I'd cope. She'd be chilly toward me; that was certain. I'd forced her to tell me something so deeply personal that each word must have hurt. Then I berated myself. What right did I have to whinge? Ariana was the one with tragedy in her life, not me. Perhaps she feared there'd be pity in my eyes. I was sure she would hate that as much as I would.

I opened the front door with unaccustomed reluctance, not knowing how I should behave when I went to Ariana's office. Perhaps I should wait until Pen arrived for the meeting. It would be much easier with someone else there, and we could all concentrate on the case.

Melodie, in place at the reception desk, leaped up when she saw me. Rushing over, she exclaimed, "Kylie, you'll never guess what's happened!" She looked around with elaborate care. "It's confidential. Are we alone?"

"Unless someone's crouched behind your desk, I reckon we are."

"Fran must never know," she whispered.

"Better not to tell me then. Fran's the sort who could get blood out of a stone, so extracting a secret from this little Aussie would be child's play for her."

Clearly disappointed, Melodie said, "But it's about LUL?

"OK, then, I'm all ears. Fran's already got the main part, so she won't care about anything else."

"But that's it!" said Melodie, flashing wide green eyes at me. "She only thinks she's got the main part."

"How come?"

"Quip's real psychic, the same as me." Melodie looked mysterious. "I can't reveal the details, but like, Quip's had a vision from a crossover."

"A pedestrian walkway?"

Melodie frowned at my less-than-serious attitude. "Very funny, Kylie. A crossover is someone who's crossed over."

"Seems logical."

"Have you got it yet?" She was growing impatient. "Dead and gone. Speaking from the other side."

"I reckon I've got it. Pushing up daisies. Kicked the bucket. Carked it. Done a perish."

Melodie sighed. "Sometimes you're just so hard to get through to, Kylie."

"Sorry. Must come from being an Aussie."

"That must be it," she agreed. "Anyhow, as I was saying, Quip had this mystic moment, when he realized the major, pivotal character in LUL is Ethel/Ethelbert-the one who expresses the essence of the deep universal themes that permeate the play."

"Fair dinkum?"

"Of course it's true," she snapped. "Why would I be telling you otherwise?"

"So who'll be playing Ethel/Ethelbert? Ashlee, maybe?" "Ashlee? No way." Melodie tapped herself on the chest. "Me." "Blimey, I can see why you don't want Fran to know. She's convinced she's snaffled the main part."

Melodie treated me to a view of her perfect dental equipment.

"Good, isn't it?" she said.

I chickened out and went to my own office. I told myself it was to check my e-mail, but I knew it was to avoid seeing Ariana by myself. E-mail checked and still no message back from Diana Niptucker, I was steeling myself to face Ariana when I heard the booming voice of Pen Braithwaite echoing down the hall. Saved by the bell.

I met her outside Ariana's black, brass-studded door. Impulsively, I gave Pen a hug, standing on tiptoes to achieve it. "Pen, how are you?"

"Coping, Kylie, coping." She seemed to have regained some of her former vitality, but her face was pale and her expression drawn. "I'll feel better when the bastard who killed Oscar is behind bars. I'm hoping you're making progress."

"Working at it. Do you know a Diana Niptucker? There was a something about her in Oscar's envelope."

"Di? I've known her for years. Small, dumpy woman, with a mind sharp as a razor. Oscar admired her iconoclastic take on things." Pen added approvingly, "She stirs up controversy wherever she goes. The Aussie megafauna mafia hate Di with a passion."

"I've e-mailed her, but she hasn't got back to me."

"Out in the field, probably. Di gets obsessed, and doesn't bother much with eating, sleeping, and the like. She spends most of her life scrabbling round in rocks looking for fossils." Pen snorted with a shadow of her usual flamboyance. "Nitpicking stuff. I'd never do it. Give me warm bodies and hot sex any day."

Lonnie, folder under one arm, had appeared while she was speaking. "My philosophy exactly," he said with lascivious grin, "warm bodies and hot sex." His smile faded as he looked up into Pen's face. Giving her hand an awkward pat, he mumbled, "Sorry. Things are tough, I know."

She nodded mutely. Lonnie shuffled his feet. To break the uncomfortable silence, I said, "You're joining our meeting, Lonnie?"

"Yeah, I've got a few things to report on Pen's stalker."

We crowded into Ariana's office. I was careful not to meet Ariana's eyes, having the conviction if she looked into mine, she'd see the utter misery there.

Once we were all settled-Ariana behind her desk, Pen and I seated on the other side, Lonnie perched on the edge of his chair between us- Ariana gave a summary of the police investigation so far.

"I talked to Ted Lark this afternoon. As we were LAPD colleagues in the past, he was willing to discuss the case with me."

Pen didn't seem impressed. "Detective Lark and his offsider have interviewed me twice. Don't have a lot of time for Lark. Right away, I made it plain who was responsible for Oscar's murder, but he wouldn't even admit it was a homicide. I set him straight on the plagiarism, I pointed out how much Jack Yarrow had to lose. I practically did his bloody job for him, but all your precious detective friend would say was that he was investigating every aspect of the case."

"That's all he can say at this point," said Ariana mildly.

"And I asked Lark a heap of questions," said Pen in a tone of extreme exasperation, "but did he answer them? No! He wouldn't even give me the time of Oscar's death."

"It was between seven and ten on Saturday night," said Ariana. "A canvass of staff and students hasn't turned up anyone who saw Oscar near the building at or near that time frame, and there were no witnesses to the fall."

"On Saturday evening, that part of the campus is like a graveyard," said Pen. She grimaced, realizing what she'd said.

"It's preliminary only," said Ariana, "but the coroner's office confirms Oscar died of blunt-force trauma, sustained when he hit the ground. There was evidence, however, of a blow to the back of his skull that probably occurred just a few minutes before death."

"So he could've been unconscious when he fell?" Pen looked almost relieved. "I've been visualizing what must have gone through Oscar's mind in those last seconds. It's a slight comfort to think he didn't know he was about to die."

Ariana continued, reviewing the crime scene investigation, saying there'd been nothing of note on the roof of the building, nor in the area where Oscar's body had landed. As for Oscar himself, there was no evidence he'd defended himself against an attacker. Nor were their any unusual fibers or other materials on his clothes or body.

"The perfect crime," said Pen bitterly.

"That's unlikely," said Ariana. "If it were perfect, there'd be no questions asked at all. As it is, Erin Fogarty raises quite a few."

I spoke for the first time since entering the room. "I spent a lot of time with Erin today, and I've got some new information."

"Can I get my stalker stuff done first?" said Lonnie. "I've got to get back to set up a surveillance for Bob."

He flipped open the folder he'd been holding. "It's all here, but I can give it to you in a couple of sentences."

"Since the call to my show on Saturday, I've haven't had a thing from the guy," said Pen.

"If he goes to ground, that'll make him close to impossible to find," said Lonnie. "What we've got now is zero, since Pen destroyed his written notes, and he hasn't been obliging enough to turn up on the surveillance camera I set up at the apartment. I sent Harriet to quiz any florists Pen recalled, but no one had any reason to remember who arranged for the flowers to be delivered, and cash transactions leave no paper trail."

"What about the calls to my program?" said Pen. "Aren't there voiceprints, or something like that?" She glared at Ariana, as though it were Ariana's fault. "Blasted Lark wasn't the slightest interested in my stalker. I even gave him Wally Easton's name. Lark said he'd investigate, but I doubt he'll bother. He told me it didn't appear to him to have anything to do with Oscar's death."

"I've listened to the calls," said Lonnie. "Voiceprints would probably implicate Easton, if it's his voice, but what does it prove? Only that he made unpleasant telephone calls to you, and your program provokes that type of response from some people. He never mentions your brother. There's no evidence to link him to any crime."

As Pen subsided, muttering something about police corruption, Lonnie got up. He patted Pen's shoulder, muttered, "See you later," and left the room.

After the door had closed behind him, Ariana said firmly, "There's no corruption, Pen. I've known Ted Lark for years. He's a thorough, reliable investigator. I would trust him to follow the evidence wherever it leads him. But that's the point. Is there evidence pointing to a suspect? All the suspicion in the world means nothing without hard facts."

"What about Erin Fogarty?" Pen demanded. "Isn't there evidence to implicate her in luring Oscar to his death?"

"Her cell phone certainly was used to send the text message to Oscar's phone, setting up the rendezvous at the building site."

"Yarrow told her to do it," snarled Pen. "The bastard. Once it was set up, Yarrow kept the appointment with Oscar-and murdered him."

"When Erin Fogarty was interviewed," said Ariana, "she repeated everything she'd already told Kylie. She laid all the blame on Georgia Tapp, and defended Jack Yarrow, saying she was sure he knew nothing about the scheme. Erin became hysterical when Lark confronted her with the text message sent from her cell phone to Oscar's. She swore the only thing she did was to tell Oscar on Friday afternoon to watch out for a message she'd send about meeting him the next day. That's all. According to Erin, it must have been Georgia Tapp who messaged Oscar."

Her skepticism obvious, Pen said, "So how does Erin account for her phone being used to send it?"

"She maintains Georgia Tapp must have borrowed her phone without telling her. She says she couldn't find her cell on Friday, and thought she'd mislaid it somewhere, but then discovered the phone sitting on her desk in the biology department when she came in Monday morning."

"And Lark believes this preposterous story?"

"He's reserving judgment. Not surprisingly, when Georgia Tapp was interviewed, she announced the phone story was a total fantasy, the product of a sick mind, as was the whole fanciful account of how Erin had been co-opted to set Oscar up."

"And Yarrow? He's the milk-white innocent too?" Pen said.

Ariana's smile was sardonic. "Yarrow says he knows nothing about the whole sorry affair, but he's shocked that Erin should accuse his assistant, Georgia, who's taken a motherly interest in the young woman's welfare. Yarrow also volunteered how in recent weeks he's become extremely concerned about Erin's mental stability. He'd mentioned to his wife how Erin had formed an unhealthy attachment to him, even persuading herself that there was a sexual relationship between them. This, Yarrow assured Ted Lark, did not exist, but was entirely a product of a deranged mind."

I said, "I think that at every opportunity Yarrow is planting the idea that Erin is unbalanced so that when she apparently kills herself, no one will be all that surprised."

"So Erin Fogarty's the sacrificial lamb?" said Ariana.

"I reckon so." I recounted this morning's conversation with Jack Yarrow and Winona, and how Wally Easton had silently observed.

Pen was thoughtful. "Oscar was always on about Jack Yarrow, but I believe the really poisonous one is Winona Worsack. One look at her career and you'll realize she's a ruthless, cold bitch. Nothing and no one gets in her way. She'd definitely take any threat to Yarrow's academic standing as a personal affront."

"The Lady Macbeth type?" I said.

"Exactly."

"Erin thinks Yarrow's wife hates her because Yarrow and Erin are in love," I said.

This got a contemptuous snort from Pen. "Everyone in the faculty-knows Yarrow goes through female graduates like a hot knife through butter. Erin Fogarty's just another besotted idiot. Winona wouldn't bother hating her."

"She's been very useful to the Yarrows," I said. "I encouraged Erin to tell me every little detail, starting from when she was out in the field studying quokkas with Oscar in Western Australia. She not only stole every copy of Oscar's research notes for Yarrow, before she left for the States, she destroyed the hard drive on Oscar's computer so there was no electronic version either."

Pen looked morose. "Oscar wouldn't hear anything against Erin Fogarty. He continued to have feelings for her, even though she betrayed him in the worst possible way."

"She did it for love," I said. "Jack Yarrow actually flew to Australia and met up with her in person. He persuaded Erin that Oscar was the one who had stolen his research."

"She's a credulous fool."

I had to agree with Pen. "She didn't even question the extra incentive Georgia Tapp gave her to use on Oscar if he balked at the idea of a secret meeting."

"Which was?" said Ariana.

"Erin was to say she'd overheard something about Dr. Penny and a stalker and that she thought she could find out more before tomorrow night. From what she says, Oscar would have met her anyway, but that was the final clincher."

"Jesus!" said Pen, dabbing at her eyes, "That was what Oscar meant when he told me he had a lead on my stalker. And I laughed at him…"

To switch to another subject before she broke down, I said, "My theory is that the meeting between Erin and Oscar on Friday in the parking structure was deliberately set up at that location so there was an excellent chance she'd be seen with him."

It worked: rage flooded Pen's face. "Jack Yarrow believes he's thought of everything, that it's working out just the way he planned." She leaned over, seized my shoulder and actually shook me. "Kylie, the ball's in your court. Bring the bastard down!"

After I'd seen Pen off, I came back inside full of purpose. I'd go to Ariana and say something about last night. I wasn't sure what it would be, but I'd play it by ear and hope for the best.

I had a moment's amusement at these two cliches, beloved by my mum, but then I squared my shoulders and walked quickly to Ariana's door before I could change my mind.

She opened it as I put my hand on the latch. "Kylie, I was just coming to see you."

"Your office or mine?"

She smiled faintly. "Yours, I think."

We walked in silence down the hall. Once there, I didn't take shelter behind my desk, but sat down opposite her at the low coffee table.

"Ariana, about last night-"

"I shouldn't have been so hard on you, Kylie, at the end."

She was calm and contained as always, but the stress showed in her voice. I gazed at her face, her dear face, and said, "Please forgive me, Ariana. It was I who was hard on you. You knew I'd never give up until you told me."

"Will you give up now?"

"Give up what? My share of Kendall & Creeling? Or give up you? I haven't got you, Ariana, so there's nothing to give up."

She looked away from me. "If things could be different…"

A dreadful feeling of loss flooded through me. "But they're not. I understand that."

She brought her blue laser eyes back to me. "So where do we go from here?"

I fought to keep my voice steady. "As friends? Colleagues."

"Can you do that?"

"I can do that," I said.