A Kiss Before Dying Read Online Free PDF Page B

in the semester,’ the clerk commented, returning from the rear of the store with the manual in his hand. It was a large thin book with a distinctive greenpaper cover. ‘Lose yours?’
    ‘No. It was stolen.’
    ‘Oh. Anything else?’
    ‘Yes. I’d like some envelopes, please.’
    ‘What size?’
    ‘Regular envelopes. For letters.’
    The clerk put a pack of white envelopes on the book. ‘That’s a dollar-fifty and twenty-five. Plus tax – a dollar seventy-nine.’
       
    The College of Pharmacy was housed in one of Stoddard’s old buildings, three storeys of ivy-masked brick. Its front had broad stone steps that led up to the main entrance. At either side of the building were steps leading down to a long corridor which cut straight through the basement, where the supply room was located. There was a Yale lock on the supply-room door. Keys to this lock were in the possession of the usual university functionaries, the entire faculty of the College of Pharmacy, and those advanced students who had received permission to work without supervision. This was the regular arrangement followed in all departments of the university which used enough equipment to necessitate the maintenance of a supply room. It was an arrangement familiar to almost everyone on campus.  
       
    He came in at the main entrance and crossed the hall to the lounge. Two bridge games were in session and some other students sat around, reading and talking. A few of them glanced up when he entered. He went directly to the long clothes rack in the corner and put his books on the shelf above it. Removing his corduroy jacket, he hung it on one of the hooks. He took the pack of envelopes from among his books, removed three of them and folded them into his hip pocket. He put the rest of the envelopes back with the books, took the lab manual, and left the room.
    He went downstairs to the basement corridor. There was a men’s room to the right of the stairwell. He entered it and, after looking under the doors to make sure the booths were empty, dropped the manual on the floor. He stepped on it a few times and then kicked it all the way across the tiled floor. When he picked it up it had lost its blatant newness. He put it on the ledge of a sink. Watching himself in the mirror, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves halfway up his arms. He unfastened his collar and lowered the knot of his tie. Tucking the manual under his arm, he stepped out into the corridor.
    The door to the supply room was midway between the central stairwell and one end of the corridor. On the wall a few feet beyond it was a bulletin board. He walked down to the board and stood before it, looking at the notices tacked there. He stood with his back turned slightly towards the end of the corridor, so that from the corner of his eye he could see the stairwell. He held the manual under his left arm. His right arm was at his side, fingers by his key-chain.
    A girl came out of the supply room, closing the door behind her. She carried one of the green manuals and a beaker half full of a milky fluid. He watched her as she went down the corridor and turned to climb the stairs.
    Some people entered from the door behind him. They walked past, talking. Three men. They went straight down the corridor and out the door at the other end. He kept looking at the bulletin board.
    At five o’clock bells rang, and for a few minutes there was a great deal of activity in the hallway. It subsided quickly though, and he was alone again. One of the notices on the board was an illustrated folder about summer sessions at the University of Zurich. He began to read it.
    A bald-headed man emerged from the stairwell. He had no manual, but it was apparent from the angle at which he approached and the movement of his hand towards his key-chain that he was coming to the supply room. There was, however, the look of an instructor … Putting his back towards the approaching man, he turned a page of the