Chapter 7

Later that night the police came and asked me a few questions about the accident. Curiously they did not mention anything about the car; I kept it to myself. I just wanted my life to be normal again, and bringing up strange comments like that would only do the opposite. If someone was watching us he/she was doing an excellent job, and the police was no match for that. I needed to figure this out on my own, perhaps with the help from friends I could trust.

Darkness fell upon the lake. I drew back the curtains and turned on the TV just in time for some breaking news. When I finished reading the headline my heart skipped a beat before racing out of control. There had been a murder on 21st Street, the wealthy neighborhood near the University campus. Professor Siders was drowned in his own bathtub, alone. Signs of struggle suggested someone else was in the house, and presumably that same person killed Professor Siders. A puzzling lipstick message was left on the bathroom mirror: There won't be any visits to Professor Siders. Instinctively I reached into my pocket and immediately felt the sticky-note Siders gave me earlier that day. I must find that address.

Having absolutely nothing else to do for the rest of the night, I turned off the TV and got dressed. The simple clock radio on my bedside table read 8:58 PM. Overnight patients were located in the quiet Twin Ports Wing with little traffic from the hospital.