The class giggled and began to pack their belongings away; a hum of mumbles about their dissertation plans drowned out the lecturer as they shuffled towards the exit.
‘Aren’t you forgetting something, professor?’ A pale girl in the front row stood up. She wore fishnets upon her arms, her hair was pink and her clothes were black as night. A silver spike poked through her bottom lip and, as she spoke, Darnell spotted a stud in her tongue. The class stood to attention and gawped with intrigue at the unusual girl in the front row who was holding them up. ‘What about the fact that Lincoln was gay?’
Darnell gasped at her blasphemous statement. He shook his head; Lincoln was a happily married man with children. Stating anything to the contrary was surely slander on the legend? To Darnell’s horror he saw not only her fellow students nodding, but also her lecturer, who was furiously agreeing like a bobble-head figure.
‘Interesting viewpoint, Poppy. What makes you come to that conclusion?’ King probed. Vanessa turned to Darnell to find him shaking his fist and biting his bottom lip. He’d turned a frightening shade of red.
‘Well several sources have all claimed that Lincoln “preferred the company of men”, of course that could’ve been a turn of phrase for the time. I guess homosexuality wasn’t exactly running wild back in those days, not publicly anyway,’ Poppy explained, stroking her chin. ‘But let’s take his first visit to this very town. He spent months sleeping in the same bed as a male shopkeeper. And many have questioned his friendship with Joshua Fry. Let’s face it, the dude liked men.’
‘Good point. We’ll cover more of that in our Lincoln sexuality unit.’ King wrapped up the session and closed his notepad. ‘See you all next week, folks! And remember to have your essays submitted by Friday!’
The screen behind him went dark, and the class erupted from their seats and rushed out of the theatre. Darnell and Vanessa waited for the place to clear before making their way down the steps to Professor King, who was packing his satchel. As they reached the bottom, they hovered past Poppy, packing her bags and staring at Darnell with a look of dismay. She swung her black string bag over her shoulder and escaped the theatre.
In front of the lecture stand, Professor King stood smiling, awaiting the arrival of his guests. He shook their hands as they drew closer and invited them to perch on the front row seats.
‘What’s with her?’ Darnell quizzed, nodding his head towards the Goth, who disappeared behind the swinging doors.
‘Oh Poppy. She’s one of my favourite students. Utterly unimpressed with everything and everyone, but so incredibly bright.’ Darnell silently mouthed an ‘oh’ before sneering.
‘I don’t think it’s very appropriate to be discussing the sexuality of our late president. It was pure slander what that girl came out with.’
‘With all due respect, detective, this is a university class and it’s our job to observe and to question. Lincoln’s sexuality has been one of much debate for centuries. There’s no holds barred in my class I’m afraid, Detective Jackson.’
‘I think we’re getting a little side-tracked here. We’re here because there’s been some vandalism to some of the Lincoln Memorial sites across the country.’ Vanessa paused and looked towards her colleague for reassurance. He encouragingly nodded and waved his hand, shooing her concerns away. ‘Whoever is doing this has extensive knowledge of the Lincoln story. We believe whoever this is attended this university. They’re trying to send us a message and we wanted to know if there’s anyone in your class who could be involved in something like this?’
The lecturer perched on a stool which rested beside an overhead projector. He stroked his chin and considered the detective’s question before squinting towards his visitors.
‘There must be hundreds of academic institutions which teach Lincoln studies, if the individual is even at university anymore, or if they ever attended at all. Why do you believe it was someone from this institution?’
Vanessa took out of her bag a photocopy of Michael Yarn’s student card, highlighting the address of the building which they now proudly stood within.
‘Yarn had his wallet stolen on campus, two days before this identity card was used to sign into two separate research centres in Kentucky and Indiana, where we found vandalism. This person is clearly trying to pinpoint a message to us about Lincoln.’
King read over the student’s credentials before handing the identity card back to the detectives. ‘Well even I could tell you that this kid doesn’t study history. He dropped my European class last year to take up law. Listen, it would help me a lot if you could explain what I’m supposed to be looking for. I have three hundred students, am I supposed to just point my finger at someone who looks like they can get their hands on some spray-paint?’
The detectives looked at each other, wondering how much they wanted to reveal. They knew that if weren’t more open with those whom they sought out support from, they faced no hope of ever finding the culprit, or bringing back Lincoln’s body.
‘The individual in question appears to be trying to make a point to us. The clues appear to be pointing towards a background that Lincoln might not have been the man we believed him to be. Potentially trying to suggest he was in favour of slavery, rather than trying to abolish it?’
‘Have there been any students who have debated this that we could take a look into? Anyone who seems to have a chip on their shoulder?’ Darnell quizzed. He looked
