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“Just things.”
“I could do them with you.”
“No!”
“Would you like to have dinner with me? I’ll take you someplace nice.”
“No.”
“It’s the least you could do. I’ve spent a lot of time on this. And I’ve put in a certain amount of effort.”
“How about you have dinner with my grandmother?”
“I don’t think so. I think I deserve dinner with you.”
“Why me?” I asked. “Why do these things happen to me?”
“I guess you’re lucky,” he said. “I’ll come back at six o’clock. Do you like seafood?”
“No.”
“Would you like a kitten? My cat just had kittens.”
“Thank you, but no. I have a hamster.”
I watched him leave, and I let myself into my apartment. Good God, I thought. I had a date. Just shoot me.
At five-thirty I dragged myself over to my closet and tried to muster up some enthusiasm for dressing for dinner. I didn’t want to wear anything sexy or, for that matter, mildly attractive. I settled on black slacks, a simple white shirt, the red jacket, and flats. I was debating if this date was worth makeup when Gobbles called on my cellphone.
“We’ve been watching Pooka,” Gobbles said. “He just went to Zeta and freaked. We weren’t even close to him, and we could hear him going apeshit. He was demanding to know who had violated his private space. That was his exact word. Violated.”
“Were the police still there?”
“No. From what I hear they cleaned the place out and have crime scene tape across the cellar door. Pooka was completely gonzo. He was waving his arms and ranting. He kept asking who was responsible. It’s possible that your name was mentioned. Like I said, we were at a distance and couldn’t hear everything, but you should be extra careful. He’s really nuts.”
“Thanks. I’ll put my bulletproof vest on.”
“Do you really have one?”
“No.”
“Too bad,” Gobbles said.
I hung up and decided the night was worth one swipe of mascara and some lip gloss.
A little before six someone rapped on my door. Kenny is early, I thought. And my guess is he was always early. He had premature ejaculator written all over him. I opened the door and Pooka burst in.
“You!” he said. “You brought the police to my workroom. How dare you? You ruined everything. It was all in place. Justice was going to be served. And you destroyed it. Now I have to start over. It won’t be as spectacular, but I’ll succeed. And you’ll pay. You’re on the list. You’re at the top. I would kill you now but that would be too easy for you. I want you to live with fear. I want you to know a horrible death is in your future.”
“They were just fireworks.”
“Not just fireworks. Those fireworks were an elegant delivery system. They would have brought joy and then horror. You’ve delayed the inevitable, but my mission will go forward. This institution must be destroyed. It will be a symbol of the evil it represents. No one will set foot on this soil for a century. It will be the Chernobyl of academia.”
“Is this about tenure?” I asked. “I could put in a good word for you.”
“Really?” He shook his head. “No. I won’t be swayed. Tenure is the work of the devil.” His hand went to the amulet. “We won’t be tricked into passivity by empty promises.”
“We? Let me take a wild guess here. Does the amulet talk to you?”
