Page 45 of Circle of Death
“You’re right. I do.”
CHAPTER 54
VERY EARLY THE next morning, Maddy is walking north on Morningside Avenue, closing in on the City College campus. Sunlight is just starting to peek between the buildings, painting bright stripes on the sidewalk.
Maddy is alone. She managed to get out of the house before anybody else woke up, and before Lamont could insist on escorting her. The last thing she wants today is to be shadowed by the Shadow.
She’s already missed the last two days of school, and at the moment classes don’t feel that important. Going in today is just a means to an end. She just wants to see Deva, and school is where they always meet. She needs to tell her about Moe, and about the World’s Fair killer. But mostly, she needs to talk about the other night.
A lot has happened since that kiss on the porch, but Maddy’s mind is still in a swirl about it. She’s not clear about what it meant, or what she wants it to mean. She knows that she truly loves Deva. Her best friend. Probably heronlyfriend. But that’s a scary thought. Right now, it feels dangerous to be close to anybody.
A few minutes later, Maddy walks into the amphitheater-style classroom for the Principles of Forensics lecture. She’s the first one there by a mile. No problem. She sits by herself, eyes closed, enjoying the silence.
Maddy thinks back to the first day of class. She was sitting in the aisle seat when a pretty girl with long black hair walked up and introduced herself.“Hi. I’m Deva Keane. Do you mind switching places?”Maddy shifted one seat over.“Tiny bladder,”Deva whispered.“Sometimes I need a quick exit.”They’ve occupied those same seats ever since.
Gradually, other students start filtering in to the classroom, filling the long, banked rows that rise from the front. At exactly one minute before the hour, the instructor walks to the lectern and sets down his binder. He clicks on the mic with a gentle pop.
But no Deva. Strange. She’s never missed a class—not once. As Maddy pulls out her notebook, her temples start to throb. She fumbles with her pen. Almost drops it.
“Quiet, please!” calls the instructor, a reedy man with a nasal voice. He leans forward with both hands on the lectern, his nose an inch from the slender mic. The murmur in the class fades. Maddy keeps one eye on the door, expecting Deva to burst through at any minute, hair flying.
“Who can tell us the Golden Rule of crime scene preservation?” asks the instructor. He rakes his gaze across the long rows of groggy students. No answer. He slaps his hand down hard on the lectern right under the mic, making a sound like a gunshot.
Maddy jumps in her seat. Everybody’s awake now.
“Don’t touch anything,” a man calls out from the back.
“Thank you,” says the instructor. “That is correct. Leave everything as it is until it can be catalogued, marked, and photographed.”
“What about bodies?” asks a woman near the front of the room.
“Especiallybodies,” says the instructor.
“What if you’re not sure they’re dead?”
“Fair question,” says the instructor. “Put on your gloves and check for a pulse. If you see signs of life, look for injuries or wounds. Call for medical and render any necessary treatment in the meantime. If the subject is deceased, leave them in peace and wait for the ME. Make a note of how and where you touched the body.”
The instructor taps a button on the lectern. The large screen in front of the room lights up. “Okay. What’s wrong with this picture?” The photo on the screen is grim. It shows a man’s body lying at the bottom of a staircase. His neck is bent at an unnatural angle and blood from a gash in his head forms a dark, irregular puddle on the floor. Three male investigators are leaning over the splayed figure.
“The tall guy isn’t wearing gloves!” comes a shout from the back.
“True,” says the instructor. “What else? Look closer.”
“The shoe!” somebody shouts.
Maddy leans forward. Sure enough. The tip of one of the investigator’s wingtips is resting on the outer margin of the pooling blood, a few inches from the victim’s cracked skull. The instructor zooms in on the infraction.
Suddenly, Maddy feels a sheen of perspiration on her forehead. Her chest tightens and her belly heaves. She lurches out of her seat and runs down the aisle to the door, saliva pooling in her mouth. She shoves the door open and lunges at a trash can on the other side of the hall. It feels like it’s a mile away.
She gets there just in time to vomit her guts out.
CHAPTER 55
MADDY STRAIGHTENS UP slowly, wiping her lips as she gasps for air. She feels dizzy and weak. Her mind is spinning. She staggers outside and sits down on the curb at the edge of the parking lot.
Her heart is racing. What’s going on? God knows she’s seen dead bodies. She passed them on the street every day when she was growing up. Why should the image of a corpse on a classroom screen set her off? Why today?
She grinds her fists against her temples, irritated and anxious. She needs to talk to Deva. Right now! Where the hell is she? Why did she pick this morning to ditch school? Was she out late last night? Did something happen at home?
