The horror spread back into sadness and confusion. My heart ached for him.
He blinked it all away, but it would return momentarily. Like all uninvited guests, grief always stayed too long.
“Thank you for your time, Delaney.” Boris stood and smoothed the front of his unwrinkled dress shirt and tie. “Please ring me if you think of anything else that might be … important tae all of this.”
“I will.” I took the business card that he’d pulled from his breast pocket. It was simple, with his name, “University of Edinburgh,” and a phone number. “Dr. Clacher, is there any chance … I mean, you mentioned Dr. Glenn earlier. Do you think he might have come back and is killing … killed…”
“Oh, goodness, no!” Boris said. “No, he might have been a killer, but he would never have killed my daughter. Never.”
I felt a million protests dancing in my head and my mouth, and even in my chest.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He bid Rosie, Hector, and Hamlet a polite goodbye and left the shop just as a young couple entered. They were happy to the point of distraction, thankfully, and Rosie and I spent the next twenty minutes helping them.
But after they left I was no longer distracted.
“Rosie, I’ve got to go talk to someone,” I said. “That okay?”
“Lass, no one involved in this mess, I hope.”
“No. Just Artair,” I said.
“Aye? Weel, then, always a guid visit. Hector and I have things under control here.”
THIRTY
I ran into Artair as we were both walking into the university library. He’d smiled when he saw me, sobered as he held the door, and whispered, “Are ye here because of the murder?”
“I am,” I’d said.
“Let’s get tae work.”
I’d been in the subbasements before, so the path to the set of microfiche machines was familiar. The machines down here weren’t as often used as some throughout the library and offered us some privacy as we searched.
“When Dr. Glenn’s true colors came out … weel, it was a sad and tragic time,” Artair said when I told him what I was there to look for.
“Do you remember anything about him specifically, before things turned tragic?”
Artair brought his eyebrows together. “He was always curious about the newest medical discoveries, as were many in the medical school, of course, but he even more so. He found me one day and asked me tae be on top of any sort of news. This was at least a decade and a half ago, lass. The Internet was going strong, but not like it is now. There were items of interest that didn’t become readily available immediately like they do now. I have contacts throughout the world in all sorts of areas of interest. Dr. Glenn was enthusiastic tae know what he could learn before everyone else.”
“Did you find things for him?”
“Aye, but nothing extraordinary. I believe there was some stem cell research and some promising leukemia treatments that he was grateful tae know, but if he learned of anything before anyone else, there was only a brief difference in time.”
“Enough that he might have been able to speak intelligently about topics that were brought up, I bet.”
“That’s what I thought about when things turned so terrible.”
“That had to be rough.”
“It was.” Artair shook his head. “I even thought long and hard if I’d somehow contributed tae his wicked ways, but I couldn’t see how, other than he might have been found oot sooner if I hadn’t given him a few bits of information.”
“No, Artair, he was evil. His wicked ways were going to happen no matter what.”
He thought a moment. “I do remember something else. Have a seat and I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks,” I said as he disappeared through a doorway into a microfiche storage room.
I sat and turned to face the machine. It was powered up and ready when a few moments later Artair returned with a box full of film.
“There was an event that received a lot of coverage many years ago. It was a celebration, though I can’t remember what they were celebrating. The medical school held a dance, a formal ball so they could invite dignitaries, I think. Mostly, what I remember is the fallout that occurred. A fight,” he said.
“Fisticuffs or yelling?” I asked, watching him find a strip and thread the machine.
“Both, again, if I’m remembering correctly. I’ve found the university newspaper’s coverage, I think. Both doctors, Glenn and Eban, were involved. Maybe Clacher too. Let’s see if I can pinpoint it.”
I rolled my chair out of his way as he moved another one over and sat. We both loved research, but searching through microfilm wasn’t a favorite method for either of us. I waited patiently as Artair scrolled.
“Here we are. Ah, aye, it was something from their drug discovery program. Ultimately, the program was about clinical evaluation that would eventually bring drugs tae consumers. It’s a process, of course, but the process, almost accidentally, led to a drug that was being used for one thing tae be helpful in something else.” He stopped on an article, and I read over his shoulder.
It wasn’t about the celebration, but about the initial discovery. A drug, its name shortened to “Bedhead” for the article’s purposes and because, in addition to its intended effect of clearing up eczema, the program at the university found that it also helped patients sleep more soundly, without the side effects that most sleeping pills had.
“This would be on the market by now,” I said. “I don’t need sleeping pills, but I know people who do. This sounds like a good option for them to look into.”
“Aye, it did then,” Artair said.
“I heard a ‘but’ in your tone.”
“Correct. It didn’t turn out tae be all that it was advertised tae be. Give me another moment and I’ll find the other article.”
The next article he found spread out over three different pages of the university paper. There
