Death Notice – ‘Committed to Excellence’

By Al Rolland and Barbara Rolland

Paul Lang, director of campus security, is restless. His wife has moved to California to help her folks open a new clothing shopa divorce perhaps? His daughter, Shelley, is ready to graduate and has decisions to make and growing up to do. His best friend, the university basketball coach, plans to retirehe will be missed! The university has a new bossa woman! It looks like a difficult year ahead.
Just as life seems to be settling down, however, the usually quiet campus office is turned upside down with the sudden death of Dr. Evans, their leading research director. It was murdera broken neck! And it came just as the campus was to be visited by a supervisory team for evaluation.
They are all still reeling from the murder when a second occurs. Again, a broken neck, but no sign of why. The campus community receives a warning message, and the pressure becomes intolerable. The answer comes as the honors day ceremony is played out and the hallowed halls of the university are once again open to all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514422410

Al Rolland

As university professors, Barbara and Al Rolland have a keen interest in academics and in the campus life that surrounds them. Their writing includes both the academic life and the personal life of teachers and students.

Book preview

Chapter One

S tartled, Paul Lang sat up abruptly as the discreet buzz of the telephone cut across the silence. He glanced out his office window as he reached for the phone, wondering how long he had been lost in the sea of reports that flooded his desk. Apparently, quite a while—the blackness outside was complete, allowing only occasional glimpses of flickering light. Was it raining a gain?

Campus Security office, Paul Lang speaking. The woman’s voice on the other end was soft, but determined. His mother again! He should have known! He leaned back in his chair and listened, a smile on his lips, trying to read the dial on his watch at the same time. Nine o’clock already!

No, Mom, don’t worry about me. I’ll just grab a sandwich when I get home. Tell Shelley I’m sorry I missed dinner, will you? I’m just about through here, though—another fifteen minutes should do it.

The voice on the other end tumbled on without pause. Paul sighed and picked up a pencil, glad that she was unable to see him. These calls were never short! Let’s see—where was he? His attention divided between the detailing of the day’s events and the column of figures in front of him, he frowned and settled back to work. Really? That’s too bad. Maybe Shelley can help you with it. But at the next words, work was suddenly forgotten and he dropped his pencil to concentrate completely on the conversation, jerking upright in his chair. She did what? What time was that?

He was on his feet now, listening intently, sweeping the papers on his desk into the open center drawer, holding the phone in one hand while fumbling with his briefcase fastenings with the other. When the voice on the other end of the line stopped, he heard his own voice, harsh, angry, too loud.

I don’t care what she said! Shelley knows full well and good that regardless of what her mother says, that car is not hers to drive without clearing it with me first! If Shelley calls in the next few minutes or so, tell her she’s to come home immediately! I’ll be there as fast as I can.

The rain was still cold, March rain, and apparently it had been falling for some time, judging by the puddles. He’d be soaked by the time he reached the parking lot! He started to run, splashing through the water, trying to duck the worst of it. Ahead of him, Gregg Science Hall seemed to be deserted—was it locked, or could he cut through there? His old station wagon was parked in the faculty lot just on the other side. Evening classes were supposed to end at 8:50, and usually these buildings emptied out pretty fast. If only the janitors hadn’t locked up! Then, seeing one of the side doors open to disgorge a group of obviously elated students, he abruptly changed course and headed for the entrance. He was in luck! Might just as well cut through—no point in getting his shoes any wetter than they were!

The hallway was wide and quiet. They had begun a new policy of turning out every-other-light to save electricity, they said—and with all of the classrooms dark and office lights out, the building seemed deserted! Two-thirds of the way down the hall, though, he could see a shaft of light around the door to the biology teachers’ complex. Someone must still be working. Some of these people doing research projects seemed to spend most of their lives in those labs! Either that, or someone had just left the light on.

As he passed the door, he pushed it open a few inches and glanced in. There was no one in the outer office, but just inside one of the private offices he could see someone in a white lab coat sitting at a computer. She had her back to the door, and while he couldn’t see her face, he was surprised at the brilliance of the colors on the monitor. She was so engrossed in her work that she seemed completely unaware of his presence. He shook his head, deciding to leave it that way, and leaving the door just ajar, he went on.

Reaching the end of the labyrinth at last, he abandoned the empty halls for the chilly comfort of his oown car. Not much point in even turning on the heater, though—he’d be home before it could throw oout any heat! Glumly he headed for home and what he knew would be an equally unpleasant scene.

It was after ten when he finally heard the car pull into the driveway. Paul turned off the TV and w ondered for the hundredth time what he was going to say or do. He had turned on the news, just in case—what if she had had an accident or something? She wasn’t the world’s greatest driver! With the sound of the garage door going up however, he forgot his fear and rediscovered his anger as his seventeen-year-old daughter bounced in the kitchen door and threw her books on the table. Her shoulder-length sandy-colored hair glistened with the rain, and her wet jeans and jacket clung to her.

Dad?

Shelley, is that you? It’s about time! Where in the world have you been? You know you’re not supposed to be taking the car out like that on a school night!

Shelley opened the pantry door, carefully ignoring her father while prying open the canister of cookies on the shelf. When she turned to face him, she had her face composed, her eyes wary. What in the world are you so upset about, anyway, Dad? What’s so awful about my taking the car to go to the library and study? I know it’s a school night, but it’s raining and cold—what am I supposed to do, walk to the library? Besides, Mom told me I could use it if I wanted to.

Paul’s mouth tightened. There it was again! He wondered if Caroline had been on the phone again, or if Shelley was just using that line, knowing that he couldn’t do much about it. He tried to keep his voice even.

Shelley, I thought I had explained to you that you were not to take the car without my express permission. You’ve only had your driver’s license for two weeks, and until you’ve had a little more experience, I’d rather you didn’t go off by yourself, especially, at night and especially in such messy weather, without me knowing about it. In spite of his efforts, he was aware that his jaw was set and that he seemed to be making a major issue out of something that Shelley obviously didn’t consider to be such a big deal, but he couldn’t stop himself. He had to stick to it.

Her eyes flashing defiantly, Shelley picked up her books to go to her room, then stopped and stood facing her father. Her voice was flat and cold. I know you don’t trust me, Dad, and you don’t think I really know how to drive. But Mom knows me better than you do. She says there is no reason I can’t use this car when I need it. You got yours and this was hers.

Paul hesitated a moment. He didn’t like what he was about to say, but it seemed he had no choice. Shelley, I’ve tried very hard not to say anything that would influence you against your mother. I don’t want you to have to take sides. But you’ve got to understand something. When your mother went to California to see her family and then decided to stay there, she deliberately gave up everything here. She wanted a new life for herself without having to worry about house and family responsibilities. Well, she’s got her job now and she’s doing what she wants to do. But she can’t keep on controlling your life and mine this way. I’m responsible for you now, and your mother has no business telling you that you can drive that car when she knows I asked you not to. He forced himself to pause and relax his voice a little.

I know it’s hard, Shelley, and I’m sorry. But there’s really not much we can do about it. You and I have got to get along. It seems like all we’ve been doing lately is arguing. Let’s call a truce, shall we? He put his hand on her shoulder and tried to make her meet his eyes.

She bent her head, and Paul thought he could make out tears in her eyes. Then, straightening, she shook his hand off and faced him again. No, Dad, this—her words were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. I’ll get it. She wheeled around and picked up the receiver. Hello? Paul stood motionless, waiting. Just a minute—he’s right here. She handed the receiver to Paul. It’s for you, Dad. I’m going to my room—I’ve still got a math assignment to get done tonight." She turned her back and walked stiffly away, heading for the stairway that led to the second floor bedrooms and her private sanctuary.

Paul watched her go, feeling vaguely that he had just lost something important, that the scene was by no means over. Then, reluctantly, he turned back to the phone.

Hello. Paul Lang speaking.

Mr. Lang? It was a girl, obviously upset. Mr. Lang? This is Arlene Lattimer. I’m over at Gregg Science Hall. Her voice was wavering, and Paul could hear the approaching tears. Mr. Lang, can you come over here right away? I came back to get my books, and when I saw the lights in her office were turned out but the computer was still on, I opened the door. And Mr. Lang, she’s on the floor and I think maybe she’s dead!

Paul tightened, all thoughts of the previous scene forgotten. He reached for the uniform belt he had thrown over the back of the chair, and fastening it around him with one hand, tried to keep the girl on the phone from giving way. Who’s dead, Arlene?

It’s Doctor Evans—you know, the biology teacher. She’s lying on the floor and her face is… She stopped, fighting for control.

Okay. You just hang on—I’ll be right there. Where are you now?

I’m at the pay phone just outside the front entrance of the science hall. But it’s dark here, and everyone else is gone! Please hurry!

All right—I’m leaving right now. I’ll be there as fast as I can make it. And Arlene, I’m going to call in one of the night men on duty—probably Gary Lewis—and ask him to get over there to stay with you until I reach you. Don’t go away.

He heard the click as the receiver on the other end was replaced.

Dropping his own phone back on the cradle, he ran to the hall closet for his jacket, almost knocking over Shelley, who stood listening to the conversation. I’ll be back as soon as I can, Shelley—it’s an emergency. Get your studying done and then get to bed, will you? I’ll call you at the regular time in the morning.

Out in the car, he activated his pager. It seemed to take forever to get an answer from the night man. Finally, though, it came. Gary Lewis was on duty, just leaving the library. He promised to head immediately for the science hall and meet him there.

With almost no traffic, Paul made good time in spite of the slush that greased the streets. It had snowed just two days before, but with the sun getting higher in the March sky, it was melting the white stuff and leaving the roads a bit slick but not icy. He pulled the wheel sharply and angled into the small faculty parking lot he had left just an hour before. Unsnapping his seat belt, he turned off the lights and pocketed the key, slamming the door behind him as he took off on a run for the front entrance.

Lewis was already there and had opened the door and turned on the lights for him as he trotted up, puffing a bit from the exertion. In back of him, Paul could see the shivering figure of a blond girl clad in a pink parka and dark pants, huddled against the rough brick wall of the entryway. She looked about the same size and age as Shelley’s sister Michele, and she was clutching her books to her as though they could warm her. Her eyes were wide and frightened, and the too-curly hair looked ridiculously little-girl and out of place at the moment. Paul caught Lewis’ eye and nodded, then spoke gently to the girl. Arlene? I’m Paul Lang. Can you show us where she is?

It’s room 103, the office right next to the big lab. There, on the corner.

Room 103 was the office that Paul had looked into, passing by it earlier.

Somehow, he had known that even before he left home. The lights were on, just as they were when he had looked in, but the hallway door stood wide open now. The girl looked up at Paul. I was too scared to go in and close the door or anything—I just ran out.

Inside, the lighted screen in the inner office still blared out its multicolored picture. In front of it lay the body of a woman, perhaps forty years old, wearing the white lab jacket he had seen