Grey Dawn Read Online Free Page A

her noon section had been cancelled; the head tutor for English 241 had decided to give the students an extra week to work on their papers. Strictly speaking, she should have gone to the section room anyway; students always had questions. But she had posted office hours, and, really, murder took precedence over the Romantic poets. And so, with a determined toss of her almost-red curls, Dulcie set out for the university police headquarters.
    She was in luck. As she entered the modern brick building off Garden Street, she recognized a particularly bulky detective.
    â€˜Detective Rogovoy!’ She waved across the open lobby. ‘It’s Dulcie. Dulcie Schwartz!’
    She tried not to read anything into the look he gave his colleague. He was probably finishing up something; that was all. And he did take a few steps in her direction before beckoning her over with a big, paw-like hand.
    â€˜Ms Schwartz.’ His voice, always low, sounded particularly grumbly today. ‘Like I wouldn’t remember you. To what do I owe this pleasure?’
    â€˜I may have information.’ She looked around the room. Cops in uniform were bustling about, and a few students seemed to be waiting at the front desk. ‘About the murder. May we speak in private?’
    The look on the big detective’s face was answer enough, and Dulcie let herself be guided past the desk into a small, windowless room.
    â€˜You have news about a murder?’ Rogovoy faced her, his hands on the table between them.
    â€˜Yes, about the woman who was killed last night.’ She waited; he didn’t move. ‘Don’t you want to take some notes?’
    â€˜First of all, I’d like to hear what you heard.’ The detective leaned forward, and Dulcie had to remind herself that despite his size and ogre-like appearance, Rogovoy was one of the good guys.
    â€˜People were talking about it at our departmental meeting this morning.’ She was proud of herself for not bringing Trista into it. ‘That a woman was killed. Her throat torn open.’ She swallowed. This was harder than she’d anticipated. ‘I heard it looked like an animal attack.’
    Rogovoy sighed and put one of those big hands up to his face. It must be hard for him, too.
    â€˜Man, this place is like a fishbowl.’ He emerged from behind the hand, looking even more tired. ‘Or something. Look, Ms Schwartz, I want to hear what you have to say, but let me set you straight. One, this is a police matter. Not some scandal to be gossiped about at your departmental meeting.’ The way he pronounced the last two words sounded like he didn’t have the greatest respect for the academic process of the university he served. ‘And, two, don’t believe everything you hear. ’Cause odds are, it’s wrong. Like now.’
    â€˜A woman wasn’t murdered?’ Suddenly the day looked brighter. Maybe Trista had been being metaphorical. But, no, Rogovoy was holding up his hand to stop her.
    â€˜Please, let me finish.’ He paused, and Dulcie did her best to not say anything while she waited. ‘There was an attack last night. The victim is in the hospital, seriously wounded but alive. And, no, it was not some kind of “animal attack.” We think it was a domestic. So, unless you have intimate knowledge of a friend’s relationship gone bad, I’m not really sure what you can share with me.’
    â€˜Oh.’ That took the wind out of Dulcie’s sails. But, she realized, maybe that was for the better. For all their ongoing discussions of reading – and hearing – correctly, Trista had gotten this one wrong. And Dulcie had stayed up too late, absorbed in that scary passage. And Martin Thorpe? Lloyd must have it right: her adviser had probably fallen asleep in his office, then set off the alarm, scaring himself silly. He’d been too flustered to recognize her on the street afterward, and this morning