Page 25 of M for Murder

If it hadn’t been for Kylan, getting Lawrie wouldn’t have seemed such a daunting task. Justine was reasonably popular with both students and professors alike, she knew she was capable of holding an interesting and intelligent conversation – except of course with Lawrie, in front of whom she had trouble stringing together a single sentence – and, although she wasn’t as pretty as Kylan or Emma, she hadn’t ever had any problems attracting boyfriends.

Fairly attractive and an interesting conversationalist weren’t going to be enough to rid Kylan Parker from Lawrie’s life. If she wanted him, and Justine knew she did, she was going to have to come up with a master plan. She was going to have to try harder.

Not able to keep track of the conversation going on at the table next to her, Justine made small talk with Luke for five minutes before deciding to take a wander down the corridor outside Lawrie’s classroom. Just to see if the other cop had finished whatever business he had been there to discuss.

It passed through her mind for just a brief second that maybe Lawrie was being questioned about Scott Jagger’s death. She immediately dismissed the thought, unable to believe that Lawrie was capable of evil deeds, with the exception of cheating on his wife, of course, and realising that, as with Mandy Tyson, it was probably all just routine questioning. Besides, if the cops were really suspicious, they would have questioned him down at the police precinct, not in his classroom at the college.

Not wanting to make it obvious to those around her, Justine adopted the plan of passing the door and heading over to the lockers that were situated on the opposite wall. She noticed that the classroom door was open and allowed herself a quick peek inside. The room appeared empty and her heart sank as she realised she had missed them. Cursing Luke Williams under her breath, she continued on her way to the lockers.

Shifting her books under her arm, she adjusted her sleeve and checked the time on her wristwatch. Her next class started in just under half an hour. She could hang around and wait for twenty minutes, see if Lawrie returned to the room to prepare for his afternoon class. It was a long shot though and she might attract suspicion if she lingered around outside the classroom for too long. She could just imagine the kind of comments she would get if any of her fellow students found out about her infatuation, especially from the in-crowd.

Oh look, Mr Parker’s gone and found himself a stray puppy dog. How sweet.

Justine blushed furiously at the thought.

She was debating what to do when the sound of a door slamming behind her made her jump. She swung around to see Lawrie leaving the room. Her heart skipped a beat; she hadn’t missed him after all. Not wanting him to see her standing there, she quickly turned back to face the lockers.

Like he really can’t tell you from the back view, Justine.

She counted to ten before peeking over her shoulder. It seemed that she’d gotten lucky and he apparently hadn’t seen her – or at least if he had he’d decided not to say anything. Justine caught a glimpse of his back as he turned at the end of the corridor and disappeared. A little too eagerly, she left the safety of the lockers and turned to follow him.

Trying to keep a discreet distance, she followed him out of the halls and across the campus grounds, past the football pitch and into the library.

Juniper College had a great library, the best in the city, and although Justine wasn’t the most voracious reader, she had to admit that when doing research for her classes she had always had luck in finding exactly what she needed. The building was on the older part of the campus and dated back over two hundred years to when it had originally been a church. The belfry still remained, though the bell was no longer in use, and inside the place was large and airy with a high-beamed ceiling and heaps of character. Although it had been greatly modernised over the past century, much of the old-fashioned aura had been retained. The distinctive patterned windows, delicately stained in hues of red, blue, green and yellow were still in place and the hundreds of bookshelves and large reading tables in the centre of the room were all carved from traditional oak.

Justine loitered behind a row of bookshelves and watched as Lawrie headed straight to the crime section, gathered a collection of books and made his way over to an empty table. She remained hidden behind the shelves, though moved a row closer to the desk he had chosen. It didn’t take her long though to realise there was no need to hide. She could have taken her clothes off and lain naked across the table and Lawrie wouldn’t have noticed, he was so engrossed in his reading. Not willing to take any chances, she chose to remain hidden and spent fifteen minutes watching him reading and making notes.

It didn’t bother her that her feet were aching or that the book she held upside down, in an attempt to blend in, was about the birth of the shipping industry. She was close to Lawrie and could see his furrowed brow, could watch him when on occasion he ran the tip of his tongue over the top corner of his lip, and could hear the soft sounds of his breathing.

Eventually he glanced up at the clock. She heard him mutter ‘Shit’ under his breath and watched, disappointed, as he quickly got to his feet. It was probable that, like her, he had lost track of time and had work to prepare for his afternoon class.

Miss Grimwood, the matronly library assistant, who was possibly older than the building itself, and who had on more than one occasion strictly reprimanded Justine for returning books late, came to his aid.

In a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth voice, she patted Lawrie on the arm and told him not to worry about replacing the books. ‘You just run along to your class, Mr Parker. Leave the books on the table and I’ll return them to the shelf for you.’

Justine gaped, wondering if she’d heard the old hag right. Lawrie’s charm clearly worked on women of all ages. She watched as he thanked Miss Grimwood and asked her if she could keep the books to one side for him to collect later, before hurrying out of the library.

Her own afternoon class was in the building next door, so Justine still had a few minutes to kill. Seeing old Grimwood disappear behind a bookshelf, she hastily returned her own book and stepped hesitantly over to the desk where Lawrie had been sitting, intrigued to see exactly what kind of reading material he got his kicks from.

There were three books on the desktop, all heavy hardback and all non-fiction. The top book was a scientific dictionary of forensic evidence; the second an encyclopaedia of America’s most horrific serial killers.

‘Nice subjects, Mr P,’ she muttered under her breath, lifting the encyclopaedia to reveal the sleeve of the third book.

The title that met her eyes caused her to let out a small gasp. She read the words over and over.

How to Commit the Perfect Murder.

A hand touched her shoulder making her jump. Justine yelped and swung around to face Miss Grimwood. The older woman’s beady eyes glared at her over the top of wire rimmed spectacles.

‘Are you using these books, Miss Orton?’ she questioned, her tone crisp with authority and more than a little patronising.

Justine backed away from the desk, aware that the half smile she had on her face was probably making her look stupid.

‘No, I’m done.’

Her face flushing scarlet, she turned and walked quickly from the library, uncertain about the books she had seen, yet all the more eager to get to know the true Lawrence Parker.

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