WOLF: A Jessica James Mystery

Chapter 3

Gasping for air, Jessica burst out of her advisor’s fetid bathroom and into his dirty office. Tears blurred her vision and something sharp attacked her left thigh. She’d run into the edge of the desk. Grabbing her bruised thigh, she bent over to keep from passing out. Queasy and panting, she melted onto the office floor behind the professor’s desk. She let the warm tears run down her cheeks.

Jack’s face was white as parchment as he wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of one hand. He led Amber out of the bathroom with the other. He crouched down next to Jessica, pulling his girlfriend down after him. “What the hell? Schmutzig’s dead?”

“We should call the police,” Amber said, reeling in the gigantic purse she’d left in the corner with the half-eaten chocolate bar. She fished around inside it with both hands then pulled out a cell phone.

“What are you doing? We can’t call the cops.” Jessica snatched the phone. “How are we going to explain why we’re in here?”

Jessica heard footfalls on the stairs. Oh crap! Not again. The security guard was coming back. Peeking around the desk, she shuddered when she saw a large shadow through the opaque glass of the office door. She clasped both hands over her mouth again, trying to remember the calming breathing techniques she’d learned in yoga. Make your out-breath longer than your in-breath. It wasn’t working. She was suffocating. She huddled closer to her friends. What if they had to spend the night squatting behind this desk only a few feet away from her advisor’s rotting corpse?

Oh crap! Not againWhat if they had to spend the night squatting behind this desk only a few feet away from her advisor’s rotting corpse?More noise from the hall kicked her into full panic mode and she scurried under the desk. If she could have chewed off her paw to escape, she would have.

“Professor Schmutzig, you there?”

Jessica recognized the strong Russian accent. It was the janitor, Dmitry Durchenko. His voice reminded her of Chekov from Star Trek.

Star TrekKeys jangled, then a click in the doorknob, but the door didn’t open. The shadow on the other side of the opaque glass vanished and footfalls receded down the hall. More jangling and another door opened. Dmitry must be in the janitor’s closet. She thought he’d left almost an hour ago. Why was he back?

Why was he back?The phone on Schmutzig’s desk rang, startling her. She reared back out from under the desk and fell on top of Amber, who yelped and scrambled even further into the corner. Jack reached up and lifted the handset off the receiver, then dropped it again.

Jessica mouthed, “What are you doing?” The sound of footsteps was getting closer again, approaching the office door. More clattering, another knock on the door, and then in the same thick accent, “Professor. It’s me, Dmitry.” The janitor’s large silhouette was smashed up against the glass. Hands on either side of a darkened face, the shadow turned into a giant bear’s, then disappeared again.

.” Amber’s nightgown was moving on the floor. Must be the whiskey kicking in. Maybe it was the Wolf’s ghost come back to haunt them from his bathtub grave. The janitor pushed something under the door. She held her breath for a full three minutes of eerie silence.

Finally, Jessica heard footsteps descending the stairs. She listened, muscles taut, ready to bolt. When the office phone started ringing again, she stood at attention behind the desk and stared down at it. Who was calling Wolf in the middle of the night? This time Jessica picked up the receiver and put it back down.

Who was calling Wolf in the middle of the nightThe footsteps stopped, followed by another long silence. Jessica froze in place, holding her breath again. After another few seconds, the clomping on the hardwood stairs started again, then the footfalls faded until she heard the front door squeak open and then slam shut. She fell back against the radiator in relief, and blew at her bangs. “Whew.”

Jack crawled across the office floor, over to the window, and peeked up over the ledge. “Dmitry’s crossing the lawn toward the street. He’s getting into his minivan.” His nervous laughter came out high-pitched. “That was close, dude. I think I wet myself.”

“Let’s skedaddle NOW,” Jessica whisper-yelled. As she tossed Amber her nightgown, the envelope Dmitry had slid under the door went flying too. She picked up the envelope and turned on her cell phone light to find her way out through the disaster area. That’s when she saw it: her master’s thesis in its brand new blue binder sitting on top of a pile of papers.

“What the…” Jessica stood staring at the binder. That liar! She’d given Wolf her thesis more than two months ago, but he hadn’t read it. He’d assured her he would get to it over the summer, but he didn’t even take it with him. Why had Wolf left her thesis behind?

That liar! Why had Wolf left her thesis behind?Of course, considering that he was dead in the bathtub, maybe he’d never left at all.

Last week when she’d asked him for feedback on her thesis, all he’d said was, “In that yoga outfit, you’d tempt even Francis of Assisi.” And all she’d said was, “Have you been drinking your lunch again, professor?” She knew full well Wolf was a teetotaler.

She picked up the binder and grasped the cover of her thesis between her thumb and forefinger. She opened it as if it might bite her. Tucked inside was a letter addressed to her, typed on university stationery. As she read it, her mouth dropped open. Sputtering, she glanced up at Jack.

“What is it?” he asked, scooting to her side.

“What’s the matter?” Amber echoed. The three of them huddled around the binder while she slowly read the letter out loud.

Dear Miss James,

I have read your thesis, and I regret to inform you that I find it lacking. Given that you have not been able to write a thesis that meets my standards, I am sorry that I will not be able to continue as your advisor. I suggest that you leave the PhD program. Hopefully another life will suit you better than the life of a scholar.

Sincerely,

Baldrick Wolfgang Schmutzig

Distinguished Professor of Philosophy

“What the hell?” Jack grabbed the binder. “It’s dated three months from now!”

She felt the blood drain from her face. She felt like she might barf. She doubled over, holding onto her knees for support. It was June, so why was the letter postdated September 15th?

It was June, so why was the letter postdated September 15th?