Free Physics Can Be Fatal by Elissa D. Grodin Page A

Outside the window a group of chickadees perched patiently on the branches of an apple tree, while a spirited gang of blue jays monopolized the bird feeder, squawking and carrying on like drunken frat boys.
          Edwina picked at a breakfast of oatmeal, toast with orange marmalade, and tea, while she watched the birds outside the window, all the while thinking about Alan Sidebottom.  Finches, juncos and sparrows joined the chickadees, waiting for their turns at the feeder.  When six crows suddenly swooped onto the scene, the blue jays screamed bloody murder, flapping their wings wildly.  
          Wasn’t that typical of bullies, to raise the alarm when they become the bullied, Edwina thought.
         With no classes to teach until the following morning, Edwina felt like taking the day off.  Maybe pack a lunch and go kayaking.  Maybe just sit in the rocker of her cozy kitchen, feeding sweet-smelling wood into the wood-stove and watching the birds.  She gazed across the room at the stack of student papers piled high on the kitchen table.  She leaned her head back in the rocking chair and closed her eyes, certain in the knowledge that she would spend the entire day carefully reading through every one of them, and giving considered thought to the comments she would write in the margins.  Emitting a sighing little moan, she rearranged herself in the wicker rocking chair by the window, and concentrated on the ongoing drama at the birdfeeder for ten more minutes. 
     
     
    Chapter 5
               
           Chief of Police Valerie Burnstein was nursing a headache.
           The New Guilford Police Department had not had a suspicious death on its hands in years, and Chief Val, a pleasant-looking, middle-aged woman who had pictures of her grandchildren on her desk, was feeling put out.  She was looking forward to retirement in two years, and in recent times had gotten lulled into the quiet routine of nothing more serious than shoplifters or people writing bad checks.
          Detective William Tenney handed her his report, and sat down across the desk.
         “What the hell kind of retirement joke is this, Will?” she muttered, reading through the report and sipping coffee from an ‘I Heart Grandma’ mug. 
         “No blood at the scene,” she read, “no sign of a struggle, no injuries. No forced entry.  Nothing missing, that we know of.  Who is he?”
         “Alan Anthony Sidebottom. A physics professor from Cambridge, England, teaching at Cushing this semester,” Will said.
         “Jesus, poor guy,” Chief Val said.  “Looks like he’d only been here a few days.  Some welcome.  Have you contacted the family?”
         “I reached a sister late last night.  She’s flying over tomorrow. And I spoke with the head of the department here at Cushing, a Dr. Helen Mann.  She was plenty shook up.”
         “There was digoxin at the scene,” Chief Val read, “with his name on the prescription, so he had a heart condition.  He could have died of a heart attack in his sleep.”
         “Possible,” said Will. “We’ll know a whole lot more when we get the coroner’s report.”
         “Find me some Advil, would you, Will?” the Chief said, rubbing her forehead.
     
    *
      
         Detective William Tenney, aged thirty-two, was a hard-working, solitude-loving New England Yankee, like his father, a country doctor.  Will’s mother, Cecile, was a classical musician, and had grown up in Paris.  She and Will’s father met in New York when Cecile was studying at Julliard and Will’s father was interning at Mt. Sinai Hospital.
       Cecile’s parents––Will’s grandparents––had fled to England in 1939, before finally being able to move back to their native France at the end of the war.  The stories his grandparents told him had impressed Will deeply as a boy, and instilled in him a desire to become a protector of those in need of