She hesitated, and now, Owen thought she definitely looked panicked.
"We're still interviewing for that position. We only started the interviews this week."
Owen blinked. It sounded as if something out of the ordinary had taken place. Why was there no department head currently? That wasn’t how things were done.
"Did anything go wrong?" May asked, and Owen knew she was following the same train of thought.
"I — I don't really know," the receptionist said. "I think it was an internal issue."
"Can you give us the details?" May asked.
The woman looked to her left, then to her right, as if she was looking for a way to avoid the question without being unforgivably rude or without having to lie.
"I can't talk about that. I'm sure you know how things are," the receptionist said.
"Police business is always kept confidential," Owen said helpfully.
The receptionist looked even more anxious, and she glanced around them, to make sure that no one could overhear their conversation.
"We can't really discuss it in public, so please do keep it between us," she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. "But after the previous department head had been here a few months, I can tell you that we had some problems, yes. Professor Bright was a bit too radical for us. So he was unfortunately fired last week." Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Fired?" Owen asked, frowning. This timeframe was significant. A radical man had been fired from a prestigious job as department head and the next week, a spate of killings had begun out in the farmlands.
She nodded. "Yes. His views weren't in line with the college's idea of what the course should be about. We're a reputableschool, and we have a need to keep our students and our supporters happy."
"What did Professor Bright do that made people unhappy?" Owen asked in the same low voice. He felt intrigued by this potential lead. There had clearly been problems, and big ones from the sound of things.
"He — he took his environmental views too far. He had very extreme ideas on how things should be done and he tried to impose them on the community. We understand he threatened some of the farmers. We were made aware that he even asked some of his students to join him in the cause and got angry when they refused."
Now Owen felt his heart speed up. He had been wondering why a radical professor would want to target students who'd attended his class, but this showed exactly why he might have gotten mad at them.
This clearly pointed to a motive for murder, especially if both the victims had come into contact with him as a course provider.
"Has Professor Bright been in contact with anyone here since he was fired?" May asked in a semi-whisper, as befitted the confidential nature of their conversation.
"No, not to my knowledge. He hasn't been back, which is a relief, because I expected that he might try to give us some kind of payback. It was very acrimonious when he was fired," the receptionist hissed back in a low voice. "I would have noticed him immediately if he’d come back, trying to cause trouble. He was kind of distinctive, with his wild hair and bushy, gray beard, and I was always on the lookout for him. I thought to myself from the very first time I saw him that he was an extremist, and that he might be dangerous if people challenged his views."
"What's his full name, please?" May asked.
"Professor Leonard Bright."
"And do you have a residential address for him on your records?"
Owen could see the receptionist was hesitant to give this information.
"This is police business, and we're simply looking for the quickest way to approach him. We want to stop any further killings. Any information you can give us might save lives,” May reassured her.
The receptionist was silent for an instant, then nodded.
"I could probably help you there. I feel responsible, after what happened.I've got his home address here. Just don't tell anyone I gave it to you."
She quickly scribbled it down and handed them the page.
"Thank you for your time. This has been a big help." May's voice was soft and friendly.
The receptionist looked relieved as she nodded at them, and then turned back to her computer screen. Her hands were shaking slightly as she resumed her typing.
Owen turned and left, feeling a sense of determination strengthen inside him.