He knocked on the door and got no answer. So he tested the doorknob, and found it unlocked. He pushed it open. “Just a moment!” Fitch called. The professor stood next to his desk, quickly gathering up a bunch of scrolls, writing utensils, and books. He looked even more disheveled than usual, hair sticking up, tie askew. “Professor?” Joel asked. “Ah, Joel,” Fitch said, glancing up. “Excellent! Please, come help me with these.” Joel hastened to help carry an armful of scrolls. “What’s going on?” “We’ve failed again,” Fitch said. “There’s been another disappearance.” “I know,” Joel said, following Professor Fitch toward the door. “But what are we doing about it?” “Don’t you remember?” Fitch said, closing the door behind Joel, then hurriedly leading the way down the steps. “You suggested that we needed to see the crime scene before it was contaminated by police officers. As good as they are, they have no realistic understanding of Rithmatics.
