Sounds of Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

was her lab," Pamela
said, almost laughing.
    "Her lab?" he asked.
    "I mean, she shared it, but it was through
her efforts and fame that we even had the lab," she said. "So, yes,
Detective, in a way, it was her lab."
    "But, did you see her there, yourself, a
lot?"
    "No," Pamela answered, "our schedules didn't
cross much. I believe she tended to work at night. I usually do
most of my lab work during the day."
    Shoop readjusted his position. He obviously
was striving to become more comfortable. He pulled his large
handkerchief from his pocket again and blew his nose, then rolled
the cloth up tight and returned it to his pocket. Pamela sensed she
was in for a much longer grilling.
    "Now, Ms. Barnes," he continued, "You say,
Dr. Clark considered the lab her lab. Did anyone to your knowledge
resent this?"
    Pamela laughed out loud at this. "Detective,"
she said, shaking her head, "You have to understand academics. They
resent everything--particularly their colleagues who are more
successful. Charlotte is—was--absolutely the most successful
faculty member in this department, in, I would venture to say, the
college, maybe even the University. She’d been interviewed on Oprah and the Today show. Her research was
well-funded; some famous pharmaceutical companies were backing her
research on drug addiction. She was the authority on teenage drug
addiction--addiction of any sort. She made this department what it
is. So, yes, there was resentment, but what you have to understand,
is that there was also gratitude, because without Charlotte Clark,
we wouldn’t have this amazing laboratory, and Charlotte was nothing
if she wasn’t generous in allowing--no--encouraging her colleagues
to make use of it. She even discussed outfitting the lab with each
of us before it was built. She asked us what sort of features we
each wanted in the lab for our own research before it was funded. I
couldn’t do the type of research I do in the way I do it if it
weren’t for Charlotte."
    "Yes," he said. "A wonderful benefactress.
But someone killed her, Ms. Barnes. And it appears--at least from a
cursory observation--that nothing was stolen, so why would anyone
go into the lab, kill Charlotte Clark, and not take one piece of
all that expensive equipment?"
    "I don't know," answered Pamela. "I just
don't know."
    "Is it possible," he prompted, "that someone
wanted her dead?"
    "I ... I ...suppose," stammered Pamela.
    "Can you think of anyone who might want that,
Ms. Barnes?" he asked, snorting up another sniffle.
    "I can think of many people who were annoyed
with her or resented her, but ---wanted her dead----no," she said,
"I simply don't believe that anyone..."
    "Anyone in your department at least," he
filled in.
    "Why would it have to be someone in our
department?" she asked. "I mean, maybe she went into the lab, left
the door open, and someone came in and killed her."
    "Some stranger who didn't know her or have
any relationship with her, just happens in, strangles her to death,
and leaves without taking anything," he said, his shaggy eye brows
punctuating his point.
    "It does sound unlikely," said Pamela,
weakly.
    “Tell me, Ms. Barnes,” he mused suddenly,
“would Charlotte Clark—or any faculty member, for that matter—be
likely to work in this expensive lab alone late at night—with the
door wide open? Given your security concerns, is that likely? Or
would it be more likely that she would lock herself in?”
    “Hmm,” said Pamela, “It’s hard to say.
Charlotte is no shrinking violet, but she is very protective of the
lab. I’d say she’d keep it locked when she was working late.”
    “And yet,” he noted, “when your assistant
discovered her body, he says the lab door was open and the lights
were on. If Dr. Clark was working in a locked lab, as you imagine
she was, the killer would have had to have a key to gain entrance,
no?”
    “I guess,” responded Pamela, “I just can’t
imagine Charlotte working alone in the lab that late with