A Knife in the Back by Bill Crider

fired?”
    â€œAccording to Wynona, Bostic was just trying to talk the board into not renewing the contract. That’s not the same thing as having someone fired. I’m sure Fieldstone’s contract has several years yet to run. He could find another job long before it expired, if he wanted to.”
    â€œWhat if he didn’t want to? What if he wanted to hang on here at Hughes until he was ready to retire?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Jack said.
    â€œDid Fieldstone ever stop by your office to admire your homemade knife?”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, he did come by one day. He was on his way to a meeting.”
    Fieldstone didn’t make it a habit to spend much time with the faculty. He always said that he believed in leaving them alone to do their jobs, though he would occasionally visit their offices when he was passing through the building.
    â€œDid he mention the knife?”
    â€œYes,” Jack said. “Or maybe I mentioned it. Somebody did. I told him about making it.”
    â€œWhat about Mae Wilkins?”
    â€œYou’re kidding. You think she’d admire a knife?”
    â€œI just wondered if she’d seen it.”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, she told me once how tacky she thought it was. You don’t think she killed Bostic with it, do you? I think that if she ever killed anyone, she’d use poison, not some tacky handmade knife. Besides, guns and knives are way too messy for her.”
    â€œYou’re right, I guess. I was just thinking, though, that everyone who’s mixed up with Bostic has seen that knife in your office.”
    â€œYou didn’t mention Hal Kaul. He saw it, too.”

    â€œHe was in this building?” Sally asked. Kaul left his office even less often than Fieldstone did.
    â€œMeeting,” Jack said.
    â€œOh. Well, that just makes it tougher.”
    â€œMakes what tougher?”
    â€œFinding out who killed Bostic.”
    â€œYou mean we’re not turning it over to the cops?”
    â€œWe tried,” Sally said. “Weems wouldn’t listen. Remember?”
    â€œI told you so.”
    â€œDon’t start that again. No one likes a smart-aleck.”
    â€œI’m not so smart. If I were smart, I wouldn’t be taking a paid vacation from my classes, starting next week.”
    â€œNobody who leaves a knife lying around on his desk is a genius, but you haven’t started that paid vacation yet.”
    â€œI’ve learned an important lesson about knives,” Jack said.
    â€œI certainly hope so,” Sally told him.
    â€œTrust me. Now what about the paid vacation?”
    â€œIf you’re not going to take it, we’d better get busy.”
    â€œSo what do we do first?”
    â€œThat’s a good question,” Sally said, “and I don’t have an answer for it.”
    â€œNeither do I.”
    â€œJust in case, you’d probably better go make out those tons of lesson plans for Naylor.”
    â€œI was afraid you’d say that,” Jack told her.

12
    I t took Jack nearly an hour, but he built up quite an impressive stack of material for Naylor’s use in the classroom. Jack was going to insist that Naylor had to cover every single syllable of it. While he worked he looked at the place on his desk where the knife had sat, thinking about what a dunce he’d been to leave it there. It had been a really nice knife, though. He’d been proud of the workmanship and not a little surprised that he’d been able to turn out something so well made.
    The more he thought about the knife, however, the more something bothered him. Unfortunately, he couldn’t figure out just what was causing the bother, other than that it was something about the knife. Maybe he was just confused. It had, after all, been a confusing day. He’d never been accused of murder and grilled by the cops before.
    He gathered up all his materials, stuffing papers into separate