“Chester coming home for the summer?” Larry, the psychology professor asked as he tried to convince the rest of us that Mrs. Peacock did it, in the kitchen, with the knife.
“Sorry, not Mrs. Peacock,” I said with unmitigated glee as I showed him my card. Larry’s shoulders drooped.
“And, to answer your question, yes, he’ll be here tomorrow. Passed all his exams. Claims he was bored the entire time.”
“I wish my students were like that.” This from Rod, head of the history department. “They act like the world is coming to an end when I give them a multiple choice test. I mean, the f*****g answers are all there. Just pick one!”
“Quit your bellyaching and make your play,” I goaded. Rod moved three spaces and made it to the dining room.
“I think Colonel Mustard did it, in the dining room, wit
