Golden in Death

by J. D. Robb

  “We’ll talk to her, see if she can pinpoint when it might’ve been lifted. Go back with the mother.”

  On the bedroom level, Eve found another home office. The husband’s, no doubt, she thought as she stepped inside. Larger than the one on the main level, and not nearly as tidy. Clean, she noted, but with a desk cluttered in the way someone busy and handling several tasks might clutter. Books again, the real deal again, but not all perfectly arranged. Since they were stacked, leaned, piled with no particular system, Eve concluded the victim hadn’t fussed in here.

  A guitar stood on a stand in the corner. The single pillow on the couch looked like one you’d actually put your head on when you stretched out.

  Moving to the desk, she poked at books, discs, a couple of legal pads where he’d made actual handwritten notes.

  She lifted one, frowned at his scrawling handwriting—worse than hers—but decided she’d found either attempts at poetry or song lyrics.

  She unearthed more handwritten notes, realized they related to classroom projects.

  Discuss how Shakespeare used music to add drama or levity to his works. Can you select current music to contemporize a particular scene or play? Provide examples.

  Possible spring project for Shakespeare Club?

  She found other notes relating to books, authors—some she’d heard of, some she hadn’t, but saw the defining pattern.

  She took his chair, gave the computer a shot, and found her luck was in. Not password protected.

  She found a family calendar listing schedules for his wife, his sons, family events. The older kid played basketball, the younger hooked with the drama club. So games, practice, rehearsal, performances.

  She dug a little deeper, barely glanced up when Peabody came in.

  “She’s on her way home, and Officer Krasinsky notified the father, and they’re on their way there, too. How do you want to notify the spouse?”

  “We’ll do it. He’s a lit professor at Columbia.” Eve sat back. “Maybe it’s a big stretch to connect that to the headmaster of a private academy, but it’s the only link we have. We’ll come back for the rest of the house,” she decided as she rose. “He’s in class now, according to his schedule. We’ll go to him.”

  “It’s a pretty big stretch,” Peabody agreed, quickening her pace as Eve jogged downstairs. “And the academics weren’t the targets. There might be a connection with Thane. It could be the vic knew his wife, maybe helped her get clear.”

  “Worth looking into. Hold on.”

  Eve hunted up Junta to let her know they had to do a notification so she should seal the scene.

  “We’ll look into that,” Eve continued as they went outside, where numerous people gave the sweeper van and black-and-whites the wondering eye. “Meanwhile, do a run on Professor Jay Duran before we get to him. And find out which building at the college we’ll find him in.”

  “I bet it’s the same as where Mr. Mira teaches.”

  “Huh. Hadn’t thought of that.” Eve used the dash ’link, contacted Mira’s office. Hit the guard dog. “Listen, don’t screw with me. I need to ask her one damn question, so put me through.”

  “She’s preparing for a session” came the admin’s stiff reply.

  “I’ve got a woman’s body fluids on my boots, and I swear to every god there is, those boots will kick your ass if you don’t put me through. One damn question.”

  “Please hold.”

  Eve bet, just bet, the woman left her on the blue holding screen longer than necessary.

  “Dallas,” Peabody began.

  “Wait,” she ordered as Mira came on.

  “Eve. What can I do for you?”

  “Do you know a Professor Jay Duran? He’s at Columbia.”

  “The name’s familiar.” Mira frowned, brushed a hand through a wave of her mink-colored hair. “Why?”

  “Somebody just sent a golden egg of poison to his wife. She’s gone.”

  “A second one.” Now Mira sat back, her quiet blue eyes going sharp. “We should talk, but for now I can only say the name’s familiar. I could ask Dennis.”

  “That would be helpful. We’re heading to Columbia now. Duran teaches literature.”

  “Then Dennis almost certainly knows him. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Dallas,” Peabody repeated with enough urgency this time to have Eve look over.

  “What?”

  “Duran’s been at Columbia for seven years—eight this coming fall. But for nearly ten years prior, he taught language arts, literature, and creative writing at the Theresa A. Gold Academy.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Eve rapped her fist against the wheel. “Son of a bitch! No way the universe just pulled that one out of its ass. Contact Rufty. If he can’t come to us, we’ll go to him. We need to talk about who might have had a hard-on for him, for Duran, or the school in general.”

  “Neither of the vics worked at the academy. He’s going after spouses. I mean, Jesus.”

  “You kill somebody, they’re dead. You kill what they love, they live. And live with that pain every day.”

  “It fits, doesn’t it?” Peabody said and tried to ignore the manic way Eve wove in and out of traffic. “Cold-blooded, cruel, without passion. And if it does connect to the school, Duran hasn’t been associated with it for nearly eight years.”

  “Didn’t somebody say how revenge tastes better when you eat it cold?”

  “I think it’s like it’s a dish best served cold.”

  “Well you don’t eat the dish. You eat what’s on it.”

  Couldn’t argue with that, Peabody thought, but surreptitiously looked up the quote when Eve’s ’link signaled.

  “Dallas.”

  “I’ve just spoken with Dennis. Yes, he knows Jay Duran very well. I’ve met him and his wife. It’s just that I’ve met so many of Dennis’s colleagues through the years I couldn’t quite place him.”

  “Thanks for checking. We’re nearly there.”

  “Eve, I’m going to open up my schedule so we can discuss this as soon as you’re able. Just let my admin know, and we’ll work you in.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Eve navigated through the grand dignity of Columbia’s campus, found a visitor’s spot.

  “Jeez, what a beautiful day.” Peabody lifted her face to the sky. “And you forget how abso-mag this campus is, right in the city. Look at the daffs, the tulips!”

  With her scarf trailing behind her like a happy flag, the red tips of her hair glowing in the sunlight, Peabody strolled along College Walk. Eve refrained from pointing out that cheerful flag could be used to strangle her in hand-to-hand.

  Students milled or sat on the ground, on benches in groups, obviously as optimistic about the day as Peabody.

  Eve thought about the man inside the dignified, beautifully preserved building whose day she was about to destroy. Whose life she’d indelibly mar.

  She went inside, more milling, and a kind of humming hush punctuated now and then by rushing feet. She badged in, signed in, and as habit, took the stairs.

  “He’s on the second floor,” Eve began. “And try to lose the springtime glitter in your eyes before we…” She saw him the minute they reached the second floor.

  “Mr. Mira.” And her heart, as it did whenever she saw him, went to mush.

  He wore a tweedy jacket and a tie that had gone askew sometime during the morning. His eyes, green and kind, reflected sorrow.

  “Eve.” He took her hand, patted it, then Peabody’s. “What a terrible thing. A tragic thing. I can’t begin…” He glanced back toward a door. “She was a lovely woman. I met her many times at faculty events. I’ve enjoyed browsing and shopping in the family bookstore. And Jay. I wonder if you’d allow me to go in, bring him out. I thought it might help him to have a friend, a colleague when you tell him. I could take you to his office, then bring him to you so he doesn’t … It’s more private.”

  “All right. Do you know him well?”

  “We’r
e what I’d call work friends, but good ones in that area. We’ve had many discussions on literature since he came on board.”

  He led them down the hall. “Is it possible for me to stay when you tell him? He was, from my view, very devoted to his wife, his family. They have two sons.”

  “That’s kind of you, Mr. Mira.”

  He shook his head at Peabody. “It’s just human.”

  He opened a door into what was more of a closet than an office. It made Eve’s at Central look spacious, luxurious.

  The two side walls were shelves, and the shelves were loaded with books, folders, some clear boxes holding discs and cubes.

  The desk held more of everything.

  Another guitar found a home in the corner behind the desk.

  “Jay played in a band in high school. In college, too,” Dennis explained. “He likes to say that’s how he got his wife to look twice at him. The poor man.”

  Now he glanced around the room. “I’m afraid there won’t be enough chairs. I can have another brought in, but don’t quite know where we’d put it.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “I suppose we’ll figure it out. I should go get him. We shouldn’t put it off. I’ll … just tell him he’s needed in his office. His TA can take the rest of his class.”

  Dennis gave a last distracted look around, then went out and quietly closed the door.

  “The sweetest man alive,” Peabody murmured as she took the two steps necessary to reach Jay’s desk. “A lot of work, a lot of clutter—but he made room for a family picture on his desk.”

  She turned around. “What about the kids, Dallas?”

  Eve shoved a hand through her hair. “See who’s free in the bullpen. They should check, find a teacher who’s good with both of them. Two teachers if necessary. And get them all somewhere private to notify them. It’d be worse if cops went in, just took them out of class, over to the grandparents. That would be worse.”

  “I think you’re right. I’ll go out and set it up. Should I wait until we notify Duran?”

  “No, get it going. Something might leak, someone might say something.”

  Alone, Eve wondered how anyone managed to work in a room without a window. Then she wondered, with all of those books … Maybe they were his window.

  She heard the door open, made her face blank.

  He was a good-looking man with pale gold hair, pale blue eyes. Taller than Mr. Mira, younger, he dressed more casually with a shirt untucked, no tie, worn sneakers.

  But he had an air—Eve caught it immediately—like Dennis, of kindness, intellect, and just a little vagueness.

  “Hello.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I’ve completely forgotten an appointment.”

  “We didn’t have one, Mr. Duran. I’m Lieutenant Dallas, with the NYPSD.”

  “I—Eve Dallas? Of course, I saw the vid with my family. I read the book. It was just marvelous. It’s a thrill to…” Something clicked and his delighted smile vanished. “What’s happened?”

  “I regret to inform you, your wife has been killed. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “What?”

  Anger tinged disbelief. Eve recognized it, as it often came first in notifications.

  “That’s ridiculous. Is this a prank? It’s not funny, not a bit. Elise is home. She has a book club meeting. You’ve made a mistake.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Duran. It’s not a prank or a mistake. I’ve just come from your home.”

  “It’s not possible. I just … Dennis.”

  When Jay’s legs buckled, Eve started to move to him, but Dennis, for all his flustery ways, supported the younger man, eased him into one of the two folding chairs.

  “Elise.”

  “Hold on to me,” Dennis said when Jay began to shake. “Hold on to me,” he repeated. And put his arms around the younger man when he began to weep.

  10

  Eve waited while Dennis comforted, and while he dug a handkerchief out of his pocket. Of course he had a handkerchief.

  Of course he did.

  Peabody came back in with a vending cup of tea, and Eve thought: Of course she’d think of that.

  Of course she would.

  And when Duran wiped his face, took, with trembling hands, the tea Peabody offered, she waited.

  “You’re—you’re absolutely sure? There can’t be a mistake?”

  “We’re sure, Mr. Duran.”

  “But how? How? Was there a break-in? It’s a good neighborhood. Elise is careful.”

  “No, sir, not a break-in. Did you know Dr. Kent Abner?”

  “I—I don’t know. I don’t think.” He brought a hand to his temple, rubbed, rubbed. “Who is he? Did he hurt Elise?”

  “No. Dr. Abner was killed two days ago. Both he and your wife were sent a package. It contained a toxic agent.”

  “A what? In a package? I don’t understand. Who would send us a package that had a … I don’t understand.” Tea sloshed over the cup as he lurched to his feet. “Our boys. I have to get to our boys.”

  “Your sons are safe,” Eve assured him. “We’re having them picked up at school, taken to your in-laws.”

  “Detectives Baxter and Trueheart are already on their way to their school,” Peabody told him.

  “I know them, Jay.” Gently, Dennis took the handkerchief, mopped at the spilled tea on Duran’s hand. “They’re very good men, and will take good care of your boys.”

  “I don’t— What will I say to them? They’ve lost their mother. They’ve lost their mother, Dennis.”

  “You’ll be strong for them.” Dennis eased Duran back down.

  “I’m sorry we have to ask you questions at such a difficult time,” Eve began. “You worked at the Theresa A. Gold Academy.”

  “What? TAG? Yes, several years ago. I taught there before I got my doctorate.”

  “You know Dr. Rufty, the headmaster.”

  “I … Yes. He was coming in as I was going out, more or less. We were both there for one semester. I don’t understand.”

  “Kent Abner was his husband.”

  “I— Oh, of course. I met him. I think. It was several years ago. But Elise didn’t teach there, or know them. I think she might have met Dr. Rufty once, but I … I don’t know. What does it mean? You don’t think Dr. Rufty did this? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “No, sir, Dr. Rufty isn’t a suspect. Like you, he lost his spouse. And like you, he has a connection to the school, so we need to consider that connection. Do you know anyone also associated with the school, someone there when you were, who might have issues with you? Someone you had problems with, or who had problems with you?”

  “No, no, God, it was seven—no, eight—eight years ago when I left TAG. When Dr. Rufty—Martin. That’s right, Martin. When he took over as headmaster, we’d been going through some problems, yes, but…”

  “What kind of problems?”

  “I— God, it’s hard to think. Some sniping, you could say, among the staff, and bullying with the students had become a serious issue. So had cheating—organized cheating. We’d lost a sense of camaraderie and, well, tone. In my opinion.

  “But I don’t understand how—”

  “If you’d just indulge me, Professor Duran.” Eve tried to find a spot between gentle and firm. “Tell me about the issues. Cheating, bullying? There must have been disciplinary action.”

  “Not really, no. The previous headmaster … She fostered a kind of competition, and a hierarchy. She inevitably took the side of the parents who complained or objected if their child needed to be disciplined for infractions or bad behavior. It didn’t foster … Many of us felt she robbed us of authority, and put the emphasis on wealthier students, with parents willing to make donations.”

  “Did you have any altercations with her?”

  “I don’t know if I’d call it altercations, but I complained, stated my case. Many of us did. And so did many of the parents who felt their children weren’t getting a fair sha
ke, or were being bullied. We—several of us—grouped together, complained directly to the board because … There was a cheating ring, though we couldn’t provide clear-cut evidence. Some students were pressured or threatened into cheating. Even physically assaulted, and the headmaster … Well, she looked the other way.”

  Peabody searched on her PPC. “That would be Dr. Lotte Grange?”

  “That’s right. But she left the school, took another position in … I can’t remember.” Rubbing his face with his hands, he looked like a man caught in some awful dream. “Somewhere else.”

  “Lester Hensen Prep School, in East Washington.”

  “That sounds right. I had issues with her, absolutely, but that was years ago. She’d have no reason to hurt Elise. And Martin came in after her. She’d already resigned. He—he changed the tone. He— Even though he knew I was leaving after the term, he met with me, talked with me about the students, about the changes he intended to make. I—I would have been happy staying with him at the helm, but teaching at college level was what I wanted.”

  “Anyone you remember unhappy with him at the helm, unhappy with the changes?”

  “I suppose so, but—”

  “You talk, fellow teachers,” Eve pressed. “In the break room, the lounge.”

  “Yes, sure, but I feel like most were happy with the change, maybe relieved to see Grange go. Yes, we lost some students when Martin implemented disciplinary action for bullying, for copying. But we gained students—and even more important, it became a better place to work and to learn.

  “I need to go to my children. I need to go to Elise.”

  “Peabody, will you arrange for Mr. Duran’s transportation to his in-laws?”

  “Right away.”

  “I’ll contact you, or the medical examiner will contact you, when you’re clear to see your wife.”

  “Is Elise with Dr. Morris?” Dennis asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I know him, too, Jay, and I can promise you no one will treat Elise with more care and respect. I can tell you no one will work harder or more skillfully than Lieutenant Dallas and Detective Peabody to find the person who did this. In the meantime, you go to your boys, and I’ll take care of everything here.”