Tuesday The Rabbi Saw Red

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Anything?"

Detective Sergeant Schroeder of Homicide was slim and boyish, and his dark crewcut showed no touch of gray for all his fifty years, he looked half that age, until you were close enough to see the wrinkling around the eyes and the well-defined musculature of the face, he stood in the doorway of the dean's office and watched the two men from the Bomb Squad carefully sweep up fragments from the floor.One of the men looked up. "Low grade bomb." He straightened and pointed to the safe. "She was planted under there."

"You think maybe they wanted to bust it open?"

"They'd never do it that way. Looks as though it sprung the door though, they might need a can opener to get it open now."

"How come the window in this office is still intact where the other one shattered?" the sergeant asked.

"Well, Sarge, the force of the explosion wasn't strong enough to blow out this window, especially since the safe took most of the blast. But the jarring was severe enough to rattle any that happened to be loose."

"The janitor said the window in the outer office was badly cracked." the precinct lieutenant offered.

"Well, that would do it all right." said the bomb expert.

Sergeant Schroeder went down the corridor to Hendryx's office where police photographers were taking pictures of the room from various angles, he stopped to look at the empty frame in the door. "Lucky that glass shattered,” he said, "or it could’ve been Monday before he was found."

"That's right." the lieutenant agreed. "I sent a couple of men to look through the building, and naturally they wouldn't bother with offices that were locked. But with the glass shattered, my man could get in and he saw these feet sticking out from under the desk like they are now. It's plain what happened, the prof was sitting behind his desk, reading maybe, the bomb goes off, and this plaster cast— must weigh a good fifty, sixty pounds— topples off the shelf and comes crashing down on his head. It crushes the skull and he slides off the chair under the desk."

"What was he doing here?" asked the sergeant. "I thought you said everybody clears out Friday afternoons."

"The janitor says he lives— lived— right across the street, so he popped back and forth from his apartment to his office from time to time."

They were joined by a young man who introduced himself as Dr. Lagrange.

"You the medical examiner? Where's Doc Slocumbe?"

"He was tied up."

"I’ve never worked with you. I don't think." said Schroeder doubtfully.

The doctor smiled. "I don't see how you could have. I'm new."

"Okay, Doc, the boys are about through, he's all yours."

They returned to the dean's office, the Bomb Squad had finished and left; the photographers had done the room earlier. Schroeder sat down at the dean's desk and asked to see the janitor.

Pat Laferty was a small man of sixty, clean and neat in a business suit with a gray shirt and black plastic bow tie, he smiled ingratiatingly at the man behind the desk.

"What time do you close up here, Pat?" asked the sergeant.

"Well, that depends. If there's nothing doing, no special meeting or anything, around five."

"Fridays too?"

"Fridays a little earlier, maybe around four."

"And before you close, you go around to see that everyone is out of the building?"

"Well, not exactly. I take a look-see to make sure lights are out, no faucets running, that can waste a lot of water, you know."

"Now today, what time did you lock up?"

"Well, I didn't, the dean was having a meeting with some students at half-past two, so I decided to wait until it broke up."

"So anybody could have come in up to four o'clock?"

"Oh, sure."

"You mean anyone can walk right into this building?"

"Until I lock up— but what good would it do them? All the offices are locked, the classrooms aren't but what's there to take? Chalk?"

"Guess you're right," said Schroeder. "Now, you say this Professor Hendryx lives right across the street?"

"That's right." said Laferty. "That building right across the street, he's got the first floor apartment, the one with the curtains. You can see it from here."

Schroeder swung his chair around. "Seems to be the only one with curtains, the place looks empty. How come?"

Laferty explained the arrangement with Professor Hendryx. "It was good for both parties: it gave him a handy place to live nearby; and for the school, it was like having a watchman in the building. You know, kids see an empty building and first thing you know, they're breaking in and messing things up."

"All right, we got your address?"

"I gave it to the lieutenant."

A policeman put his head in the door. "That lady dean is here now. Sarge."