International and out-of-state students could ask to leave their belongings behind for the summer in one of the storage spaces on campus, although these could be quite contested. There was no storage space at Briar, and Ledge House’s basement storage was crammed full already, so they must be heading to August Hall, which was Hideo’s dorm. That was a much more modern facility;it even had an elevator to take you up its three floors, although Minerva preferred the old houses and mansions that had been converted into student housing. Amazing what the Great Depression had done to real estate. The college had acquired a bunch of properties and land shortly after that time, doubling its size, back when properties were somewhat affordable on the North Shore.
Hideo and the student maneuvered the TV into a car, then Hideo turned toward her.
“You’ve checked out everyone at Ledge House?” he asked.
“I have a couple of stragglers,” she said, looking down at the pink forms resting on her clipboard. “A couple more students here, too.”
“I’ve got to drive this over to August Hall and then I’ll check out a bunch of folks at Plymouth Hall. Will you be home around five?”
“Where else?” Minerva said. She didn’t own a car. The walk to Temperance Landing was a good forty minutes. When classes were in session, she could ask another resident director for a ride or wait for the minuscule van that passed as a shuttle, ferrying students to the train depot at Temperance Landing, from where they could catch the train to Boston. Or it would drop them at the Stop & Shop, the multiplex, and a host of other spots. In the summer, however, the shuttle did not operate.
“Good, I need to show you something.”
“Sure. Drop by.”
Minerva went inside the house and up the stairs. Even as she knocked on the door, she hoped Conrad Carter would tell her he hadn’t obtained the proper paperwork. He had filed it late and the housing office said students who wished to remain on campus could do so only under extenuating circumstances. Conrad Carter had family in Dover and Minerva suspected he wanted to stay at the dorm because he was too lazy to haul his things into a storage unit.
Conrad opened the door and squinted at her. He was wearing a sweatshirt and pants and looked like he had rolled out of bed a few minutes ago.
“I’m coming to inspect your suite and check your paperwork for the summer stay,” she said.
“Ah, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Give me ten minutes.”
“Our appointment is for two-thirty,” she reminded him.
“Wait, okay?” he said. It was an order, not a request.
Minerva guessed he was going to hide his bong. Late in the autumn, Conrad Carter had been the usual trouble, which meant he’d argued with his roommate. Most of the student quarters in this dorm were doubles, with two beds in each room. There were, however, a few precious suite-style rooms, which looked like mini apartments. Two single rooms divided by a small living room area, plus a private bathroom. These suites were reserved for seniors or grad students.
Conrad Carter had been assigned to a suite; he had one room and Thomas Murphy had the other one. They were a bad fit from the beginning. Conrad played his music too loudly and dirtied the bathroom. Thomas had lodged a complaint, but when a student washed their bowl of noodles in a bathroom sink and clogged it, the usual procedure was to simply have a chat with them. Which Minerva did. Conrad Carter kept playing his music and annoying his roommate. She caught him smoking pot and wrote him up, which meant nothing, because you needed far worse infractions to merit anything close to a punishment and Conrad knew it.
Thomas did not return after winter break, and Conrad seemed to have considered this a chance to increase his annoying behavior. Even though he lived in a dry dorm—there were underclassmen on the first and second floors—Minerva wrote him up for throwing three parties with plenty of beer. What was worse, he had freshmen and sophomores with him. Drinking with eighteen- and nineteen-year-old students was definitely an infraction.
Conrad, however, had skated through without any issues—his dad was friendly with a couple of school trustees. In March, Conrad had elbowed away one of Minerva’s resident assistants who had been doing the rounds of the building and suspected he was carrying liquor in a shopping bag. Minerva tried opening adisciplinary inquiry, which did not proceed because Conrad said he hadn’t elbowed anyone, it had been an accident, and the resident assistant had been too scared to ask him to open the bag, so no actual alcohol had been confiscated.
But Minerva didn’t think it was an accident. Conrad was an asshole, plain and simple, and after she lodged her inquiry, he seemed especially eager to annoy her. He hadn’t always been like that; she’d liked him in the beginning, and before Halloween, when they’d walked back to campus…but no matter, they were hardly on friendly terms now, and she had a job to do.
Minerva began looking around the living room and going through the pink checkout sheet. Although technically Conrad wasn’t leaving, she had to make sure the suite was in decent shape, have him sign off on any damage, then also have him sign a new sheet for the upcoming year. The living room and bathroom were messy, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Minerva poked her head into the room that had belonged to Thomas Murphy. There were two boxes next to the window. She’d seen them months before. Instead of coming back to campus, Thomas had emailed the registrar’s office and told them he was dropping out, which meant Minerva had been alone when she’d inspected the room. There was no damage, so she’d simply informed her boss that Tom had left two boxes, assuming he’d pick them up later.
Minerva opened the flaps of one box and peered down at its contents. Books.
“You can go into my room now,” Conrad said as he stood in the living room and sipped a can of Red Bull.
She quickly closed the flaps of the box and turned around to look at him.
“Tom didn’t return for his stuff. You hadn’t mentioned that,” she told him.
“I didn’t know I had to. I figured he’d come and get it if he needed it.”
“In the fall you’ll get a new roommate, and the room must be empty.”
“You want me to chuck it out?”
“No. It’s fine. I’ll talk to housing services, they’ll send someone. You have the R5 form?”
“You know I do.”
