Cliff

Chapter 19 -- The Accusation

Sally knocked on the panel next to Professor Lockridge's open office door. He looked up, somewhat startled, and invited her in, commenting on her absence the past week and hoping nothing was seriously wrong. He asked if he could help her in any way. Very quietly, with great determination showing if not felt, Sally began. "I've been doing some research into Bob's death. It wasn't an accident, you know." "Yes, I was rather afraid it wasn't. What have you found out. Why did he do it?" "He didn't. Someone else did. I think I'd better tell you about it." "Well, please, not now. I'm busy right now. I didn't expect to be working over this weekend, and I would surely like to be somewhere else. Can we do this some time when I'm not quite so pressed?" "I'll make this as brief as possible. I'm sure you will become interested as we go on." Sally certainly hoped she sounded more determined than she felt. But it was now or never. She thought about Bob and started in. "Professor Lockridge, you knew First Victim, when you were both working on your doctorate, at Cal Tech." "First Victim, First Victim, let me see. I may have known someone by that name. I really don't remember. " After all her plans and mental rehearsals it just came out, in a rush, "Professor Lockridge, you were great friends with First Victim. You even went skiing together. You went skiing with him in 19xx at Little Punpkin Ski Resort in California. He died there. Am I helping your memory any?" "I don't remember any of this. I have many friends and colleagues from my university days. What of it? Who is he?" "You stole his work. You did that after he died. You might at least remember his name. Did you, by any chance, help him die?"

"You're accusing me now of murder! No, I had nothing to do with First Victim's death. He died in an avalanche. It was an accident. It was investigated at the time."

"So, you were there when he died. I didn't know that. That explains the dissertation. You took it from his belongings after he died, and used it for your own."

"His work was unpublished. There were a lot of people working on that subject at that time. I was only one of many. My work went in parallel to his, but it wasn't a copy."

"Not this time, Professor Lockridge. I talked to someone about plagiarism. I have it on good authority that what you did was plagiarism, not a paraphrase, or a coincidental similarity. Plagiarism. Copying his work and calling it your own. I can demonstrate that his draft precedes yours, that it has been carefully suppressed since First Victim's death, and not published in any form by anyone. I have a witness to all that. Now I know how you got it. I wondered."

"You can't know that, since it isn't true."

"I'm a researcher too, Professor Lockridge. I know exactly when, to the day, this draft disappeared into the filing system. It was to be reviewed unofficially prior to submission to the department. That was less than 48 hours before First Victim died. It has been under lock and key since then. I have witnesses. All I need to show is when you started on the research for your own version of this. When did you select your subject? Who was your adviser? Would you like to bet I can't find out these things? Professor Lockridge, you even copied the name of the paper! How obvious does it have to be?"

"So what do you intend to do now? Ruin my career? Or try to?"

There was another very long pause. Then, changing the subject, Professor Lockridge said, "So what do you intend to do now? Ruin my career? Or try to?"

"No, I don't want to ruin your career or disgrace you. You murdered Bob Smith. I want to put you in prison for the rest of your life for murder."

Professor Lockridge seemed almost relieved, "Murdered Bob Smith! That's insane! Where did you ever get that idea? Bob Smith got lost in a fog and fell over the cliff. It was tragic, but it wasn't murder. And I certainly had nothing to do with it."

"Oh yes you did. And I know why! It's a story about a computer. The computer originally belonged to First Victim. It was sold in an estate sale after First Victim died. I know who bought it. The person who bought it eventually sold it to Bob Smith. I bet you didn't know that, did you? I bet you didn't know that computer had a copy of First Victim's draft dissertation on it, either, did you? Bob found that file on the computer, didn't he. He compared it with your dissertation and it matched. Bob thought a lot of your work, he read your dissertation, and remembered enough of it to recognize it in the computer file. What did he do then, ask you about it? Poor Bob. Poor trusting Bob. He never knew First Victim. He had no idea why the file was on his computer. He thought it was yours. He asked you about it, didn't he?"

"Yes, and I told him exactly what I'm telling you. First Victim and I were working together, on similar subjects. The work may have been similar, but it wasn't a copy."

"But you knew that Bob wasn't satisfied with that answer. So you waited for him and hit him with a rock. He didn't go walking along the edge of the cliff in the fog that night. You dragged his body to the cliff and pushed him over."

"Then you went back and frantically searched his rooms for anything that might incriminate you, anything that might lead back to that computer file. Then you took the computer, and all of Bob's notes, and probably threw them into the bay. That's why there wasn't any evidence of any work at all when we looked at his things the next day. You cleaned out his office, too, didn't you? You even took back all the library books he had out on loan. You must have felt like you really got away with something when you found a copy of your dissertation in his library book stack. You were right about Bob. He did have his suspicions. He even acted on them. That's how we caught up with you. We looked at the go-back shelf in the library and saw Bob's books, all lined up to disappear. I wonder if we could find the computer in the bay? How far out would you bother to go?"

"You say, 'We'. Who else knows about this? You and who else?"

That's when Sally made a mistake. She hesitated before responding. She didn't want to name other people right now. She didn't want them to get into trouble in case she was doing something wrong. So she hesitated, then lied, "Lots of people. I didn't work alone. Lots of people know all about you."

Professor Lockridge's attitude and tone of voice changed, and he quietly said, "You go right ahead and produce that paper, young lady, and I'll show you how solid a PhD dissertation can be. I was working on that project long before First Victim was, or anyone else for that matter. If you can prove anything at all, it will be that he copied me. I can produce notes, and signed formal submissions of subject."

seconds, her staring quietly at him, standing straight and tall as her mother had told her to, and he keeping the superior look enhanced by the beard and spectacles. He blinked first. Then he moved his face a little bit and said, "No, you didn't."

Her lips moved a little, too. "OK, I didn't. But now I know what will happen when I do, don't I?"

"You may think you do. I assure you, you don't. I have no more time for you. Go and make your false accusation, and produce your paper, and see how far it gets you. You will no longer have an academic future, that I can assure you."

Sally turned and left. As she was walking down the sidewalk towards her bike she felt sharp prick high on her left buttock. It was like a sting.

The reaction wasn't immediate. She had time to take one more step and turn around to see where the sting had come from, before passing out and falling on the sidewalk.