Fatal Scores by Mark de Castrique

Author:Mark de Castrique
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2020-12-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

“Well, what do you think?” I asked Nakayla the question as we pulled out of university parking lot P17.

“I don’t think he sent that package or else he wouldn’t have so readily agreed to give us his prints.”

“He could have worn gloves and feels confident that nothing will show up.”

“Maybe,” Nakayla agreed. “But to be on the safe side, I think we have to assume he didn’t.”

“Ormandy’s not going to like that. Guess we’ll just have to eat more breakfasts at the Albemarle Inn.”

“The sacrifices you make for our clients,” Nakayla said. “It’s awe-inspiring.”

“What do you make of the relationship between Ormandy and Madison Kirkpatrick?”

Nakayla hesitated. I didn’t wait for her reply. “I mean, what are the odds they would know each other?”

“Pretty good, actually. If she was a student, even a year or two older, they could have met. The university’s not that large. She was the one who recommended Ormandy, and Ted said she likes the symphony.”

“But Luke said Clarkson recommended Ormandy.”

“And there’s no reason they can’t be both right. Clarkson was in the department for Ormandy’s freshman year. Madison was the girlfriend.”

“So, Madison would also know Clarkson,” I said. “This is like one of those overlapping Venn diagrams. John knows Suzy but doesn’t know Ellen. Ellen knows Suzy and Suzy’s boyfriend, Fred. Fred knows John who knows—”

“Who knows Kevin Bacon,” Nakayla said laughingly. “Six degrees of separation. We’re talking even fewer if the universe is restricted to the music department.”

“Yeah. You know what’s bugging me?”

“That a death threat carries more weight if it intersects with a murder?”

Her statement caught me up short. I hadn’t seen any connection between the letter to Ormandy and the death of Ken Stokes. I still didn’t see one, but maybe that’s what was really gnawing at me. Some link I was missing. Maybe Nakayla was on to something. “How so?”

“Well, we have Ormandy arriving over an hour late for dinner with Ted Kirkpatrick. That means he doesn’t have an alibi for the window of time when Ken died.”

“That’s what I was about to say.”

“And don’t you think it’s odd that Ormandy would wait so long to notify Ted of the delay? He said he got a late start out of Cincinnati. It’s a five-and-a-half-hour-drive. He should have known from the onset that he’d be late and not waited until an hour before the scheduled dinner to tell his host.”

I hadn’t thought about that point. “He’s not the most considerate person on the planet.”

“No, he’s not. Still, I’d like to know his location during that time. And…” She left the thought hanging as if hesitant to complete it.

“And what?”

“And I’d like to know if Madison really was playing bridge that night.”

I braked for the stoplight at Merrimon Avenue and turned to face my partner. “You cunning little fox. You think Ormandy was scoring more than his music?”

“I wouldn’t put it quite so crudely. More like playing around.”

“Then our most likely suspect is Ted Kirkpatrick himself. That makes no sense.” I saw only one way forward.

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