by Glen Robins
Likewise, there had not been any signs of Pho Nam Penh since early Saturday morning. His name and photograph stayed out of the public eye. Law enforcement did not want to tip their hand and thereby give their prime suspect any further cause for caution. Their only hope was that he would get complacent and make a mistake. That would be less likely to happen if he knew they had evidence against him.
The dearth of calls to the police hotline and the absence of actionable information were startling, even for the experienced veteran FBI agent in charge of the case.
Each day the investigation dragged on was like an eternity. No clues as to Theresa’s whereabouts emerged, just more questions about Lukas and his relationship with her. The FBI had interrogated him thoroughly on more than one occasion. It figured that he would be a suspect, being her boyfriend and all. Since he was told by Mahoney in no uncertain terms not to mention Pho Nam Penh or his own involvement with the NSA to the FBI or police, Lukas felt the heat on him intensifying.
Finals week was excruciating. He was too upset and distracted to focus on his exams. Fortunately, only one of Lukas’s grades depended on him doing well on the exam, but he didn’t want to bomb any of them, nonetheless. Finding time and mind space to study was virtually impossible. Somehow, he had managed to show up on time for his tests and pass each of them. The trick was to only think about the task immediately in front of him and block out all other distractions—a skill that would serve him well in life and one that did not go unnoticed by a certain section chief for the National Security Agency.
Despite his superb mental performance during finals week, Lukas was an emotional wreck. The pressure was building, but with no one to talk to, he had no outlet. Feeling like he was being monitored twenty-four hours a day, he dared not reach out to any of his friends or family.
Because communication between him and Mahoney had virtually dried up, thanks to the FBI’s monitoring, Lukas felt helpless and isolated. His fellow Bring IT club members supported him and said they would do what they could to help find her, but with finals and graduation, no one had reached out to him. Their words brought little comfort. Everyone wanted to stay clear of the “guilt by association” label.
Alone in his apartment, Lukas lay awake each night with terrible forebodings brewing in his mind. While he struggled to sleep, every groan of the house or tussle of leaves in the wind, became magnified, adding to his angst and restlessness. He wrestled with his feelings of being unable to do anything. The lack of information alone was enough to drive him crazy. Add to that a lack of sleep and a lack of progress, and he was like a rowboat in stormy seas.
Lukas was teetering on the edge and he knew it. Only by consciously imposing calm upon his nerves and dipping deep into his inner source of rationality was he able to keep his sanity somewhat intact.
The morning of graduation day, Lukas dragged himself out of bed after another mostly sleepless night. Not only was he worried about his girlfriend and anxious about the cloud of suspicion that surrounded him, his heart ached for her. She was the best friend he had on campus and the one person who would listen to him, no matter the subject, no matter the time of day. Her sudden absence made him realize just how important to him she had become. He wanted her there with him more than anyone else and more than ever before. Life without her for five days had been miserable. If this continued much longer, it would become unbearable.
One small source of comfort was the texts he had been receiving from Rob and Collin every day. They expressed concern and support. Collin, in particular, spent hours on the phone with Lukas, especially at night, to let him vent and to assure him that everything would work out. Collin had faith and expressed it often and with conviction. Even though Lukas hadn’t been raised that way, he felt strengthened by Collin’s uplifting expressions of confidence.
It was graduation day, and things were not as they should be, not as he had envisioned them in his head. His parents were in town and had treated him to dinner at Alden & Harlow, a popular and upscale restaurant in Cambridge, the night before, but he had planned for it to be a happy foursome instead of a tense and worried party of three. That night was supposed be his opportunity to introduce Theresa to his mom and dad. He had looked forward to it, and so had she. Without her there and because of the circumstances, the conversation was stymied, and the evening was awkward.
His mother texted him as he got ready for the ceremony that morning, assuring him that she and his father would be there, proudly cheering him on. That was the moment he changed his mind about skipping the commencement. If for no other reason, Lukas would walk across that stage and act as if nothing was wrong for the sake of his mother and father. His parents deserved that much, and more. Understandably, they would have to settle for a mere attempt at merriment.
The commencement exercises went off as expected. Each speech added perspective and insight to what it meant to be a graduate from one of the finest technical learning centers in the world. Challenges were issued to make a positive difference, to be responsible for making the world better, even if in seemingly minor ways. Lukas wanted to feel the hope and enthusiasm shared from the pulpit, but his insides were twisted in a knot and his heart felt encased in lead throughout the proceedings. He walked across the stage, shook hands with the dean of his college, displayed the diploma jacket proudly for the camera, then retook his seat. It was surreal. He felt detached from the proceedings, as if it was happening to someone else while he watched.
After the conclusion of the ceremony, Lukas headed toward the front of the William Barton Rogers building, where he had arranged to meet his parents. He saw them at the bottom of the marble steps, below the stone pillars, looking about anxiously. As Lukas maneuvered through the crowd, he heard someone call his name and caught a flurry of activity off to his left. He was ten yards from where his mother and father stood when two men in suits and ties maneuvered through the crowd, approaching him with purpose and no-nonsense expressions on their faces. Their call was loud enough to also attract the attention of Lukas’s parents, who both froze in bewilderment. Lukas gave his mother a reassuring gesture with his hands as he changed direction and headed toward the two men.
He recognized them immediately. These were the first two FBI agents to interview him on Tuesday when they took over the investigation into Theresa’s disappearance.
“Lukas Mueller,” the taller one said. “We need you to come with us.”
Lukas pulled his lips into a tight line as he stopped in front of the two men, his back to his mother and father.
“Give me two minutes to celebrate with my parents. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I’m as interested in your case as you are.”
Turning around, Lukas reached out to his mother and moved into her embrace. After she showered him with praise and affection, it was his dad’s turn. His father, slapping him on the back repeatedly as he pulled Lukas into a bear hug, kept telling him in German just how proud he was of his only son and what a great thing it was that he had graduated with honors from such a top-notch university. Tears welled up in his father’s eyes as he smiled and patted Lukas’s shoulder over and over.
He turned to the FBI agents, holding out his phone. “Please, will you take a few photos of us?”
The taller agent obliged while the shorter one shuffled his weight from one foot to the other, glancing around to see if anyone was watching.
After the photos were taken and the phone returned, Lukas’s expression turned serious. He made eye contact with his mother first, then his father. He spoke to them in German. “I must go with these men. I’m sorry I can’t stay. Please don’t worry. I’ll call you when I’ve concluded my business with them.”
His mother looked worried and confused. “Where are you going? Why must you go now? We haven’t properly celebrated.”
“It’s OK, Mother.” Lukas held his hand out and patted the air slowly. “They are helping find Theresa.”
Lukas’s mother continued to chatter nervously,
and his father begged him not to go, not to disappoint his mother. Lukas spoke as calmly and resolutely as he could until they began to understand that things were beyond their control.
The two FBI agents stepped closer, a look of urgency on their faces.
Lukas finally extricated himself from his mother’s grip on his arm, assuring her that he would call her as soon as he could and bidding her not to worry about anything. His persuasions fell short. His mother burst into tears as the agents each clamped a hand on one of Lukas’s elbows. His parents’ faces showed their bewilderment.
This was not at all how Lukas had envisioned his graduation day.
Chapter Twelve
FBI Boston Office
Graduation Day
His cap and gown lay next to him, neatly folded and stacked on the back seat of the government-issued black Chevy Suburban. His tie was loosened, his sleeves were rolled up, and his eyes were cast down at his knees. Lukas sighed and shook his head. Some celebration, he thought.
The big SUV’s engine purred like a tiger as they waited for yet another red light to turn green. It seemed everyone was trying to escape the MIT environs simultaneously. Fortunately for Lukas, the FBI agents had parked a few blocks from the main campus and didn’t put him in handcuffs and march him through the crowd of peers and parents. Instead, they allowed him to follow the tall one while the shorter one brought up the rear, the three of them trying to appear nonchalant. They moved efficiently; not fast, not slow, but never stopping for long or allowing themselves to get trapped in the masses of moving bodies.
Lukas closed his eyes as the car jerked forward and made a hard right onto Main Street, which would become the Longfellow Bridge, headed toward the Government Center downtown. His analytical engineer’s mind tried to imagine what lay ahead. What questions would they ask him that they hadn’t already asked? What new information might they present to him? What new wrinkle could there be in their investigation? He hoped they had good news, like a break in the case, or, better yet, a team heading out to retrieve Theresa and bring her back safe and sound after shooting her kidnapper. He knew that would be too much to ask for, so he simply hoped the news was positive. But something—perhaps it was the lack of conversation in the car—told him to fear the worst.
The uncertainty made the twenty-minute ride feel like twenty hours.
As they approached the hulking mass of the old FBI building, standing like a cube-shaped medieval fortress, dark and imposing, Lukas felt a shiver of dread course through his veins. Heading into the underground garage did not help his mood. In fact, it matched it. Everything about this day seemed to be heading downward. And it was only getting worse. All the way through the parking area and up the elevator, the shadowy feeling grew in size and intensity. He wondered why the two agents weren’t talking, asking him questions as they drove. They avoided answering his questions by saying, “We’ll cover all that once we’re in the briefing room. Just hold your thoughts until then.”
That statement only reinforced the pessimism welling up inside; it cast a pall, intentionally or not.
The taller agent led Lukas into a wood-paneled room dominated by an outdated oblong oak table and burgundy-colored upholstered roller chairs. The shorter agent invited him to have a seat, then asked if he would care for some coffee. Lukas realized he was starving and thought maybe a drink would settle down his rumbling stomach. When the steaming cup came, he loaded in cream and sugar to add some calories in hopes of boosting his energy level.
He stirred the coffee slowly, took a small sip, and waited, repeating the process numerous times. The cup was nearly empty when the door finally burst open and a gentleman with slacks that probably fit him a decade ago entered the room. Along with a wide tie and a shirt whose buttons strained to contain his girth, the man wore a stern look. It wasn’t that he was fat. He just hadn’t changed his wardrobe as time did what it often did to aging male bodies. What hair he had clung to the sides of his head and was mostly gray. The hastily combed-over strands on top echoed the unkempt theme. “Lukas Mueller? My name is Special Agent Matt Griggs. I’ve been working with Agents Howard and Peña on this case.” He paused, checked some notes on a page inside the manila folder he held in his hand. “I wish I had better news for you, Mr. Mueller. I honestly wanted this meeting to be a reunion between you and your girlfriend.” A wan smile laced with sympathy crossed his face and stuck there as he hesitated, searching for words. “I don’t know how else to tell you, so I’m going to just put it out there. A body was found in the St. Charles River yesterday morning. The medical examiner just ID’d it as Theresa Huffman’s. Had to use dental records. We estimate her time of death to be roughly thirty-six hours ago. Still working on cause of death.”
Lukas swallowed hard and hung his head, fighting back the urge to sob. His worst fear crashed over him like a tsunami, ripping through everything in its path. Despite the preparation he had undertaken during the car ride and the thirty minutes he had waited in this room; he was unable to contain the bitter sting of the news. Hot tears welled up in his eyes. The harder he tried to fight them back, the faster they flowed down his cheek. He hid his face in his hands until the wave receded.
Across the table Agent Griggs shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for Lukas to regain his composure. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of such terrible news.” There was an awkward silence as Griggs sought the right opening to drop the next bomb on Lukas. He cleared his throat, then started out gingerly. “I also regret to inform you that we received two anonymous tips. One from a neighbor informing us that a man meeting your description was seen forcibly entering Ms. Huffman’s residence the morning of May 12.” Griggs eyed Lukas, taking in his reaction. “The other from a taxi driver who says he picked the two of you up at 9:13 a.m. and drove you to a boat dock on the St. Charles River, about a mile from where Theresa’s body was found. He says the woman seemed out of it and you had to practically carry her to a boat tied up at the dock. What have you got to say about that? Have you got an alibi for the time period between, say, seven and ten thirty a.m. when the roommate,” he checked the notes in the folder, “Alexandra, arrived?”
Lukas’s insides twisted. He felt his face warm. Someone must have seen him jimmying the back door. He tried to hold Agent Griggs’s gaze with his eyes clouded. “That’s a lie. She and I never took a taxi anywhere. Why would someone…?” Lukas stopped short, understanding that he wasn’t answering Griggs’ question and that anything he said could be used against him. “Look, you can check my phone. There is no record of me calling a taxi that morning. I was at home in my apartment during those hours. I’ve been through what happened the last time I saw her with Agents Howard and Peña twice before.”
Griggs’s expression was impassive. “Go through it with me again.”
“OK,” said Lukas with a sigh of resignation. “Theresa and I had studied together the night before, got a bite to eat near campus after we were done, then walked to her house. We sat inside for a while, talking and listening to music. We were both tired and needed to get our rest, what with finals coming up and all. So, she walked me to the front door. We stood on the porch for a few minutes, wrapping up our conversation and agreed to see each other the next evening for dinner. We both planned on studying and preparing for finals most of the day Saturday. I gave her a long kiss and a hug, then left somewhere around midnight.”
Griggs stood in silence. His eyes narrowed and his brows scrunched together. He seemed to evaluate every nuance of Lukas’s narrative. He made no note, which led Lukas to believe that he was being recorded somewhere. “Can anyone verify your story? Either of her roommates see you with her or see you leave without her that night?”
Lukas shook his head, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a stack of those lead X-ray shields at the dentist. “Her roommate Alex was upstairs when we arrived. She called out a ‘hello’ as I came in but was in the shower when I left. Beth was at her boyfriend’s house all night that
night.”
“What about your roommate? Is he able to verify your whereabouts Saturday morning?”
“No. I didn’t see him at all that night. He has a girlfriend and often stays at her place on the weekends.”
It was Griggs’s turn to shake his head. “The good news is that your story hasn’t changed. The bad news is that we have what we believe to be two credible eyewitness statements that we have to take very seriously. I’m afraid I’m going to have to turn you over to the Cambridge Police and have you booked on suspicion of murder. You might want to search the call history on your phone. There’s definitely a record of an inbound call to the taxi service from your number.”
Chapter Thirteen
Cambridge Police Department
Graduation Day
Lukas had been alone in a cell on the third floor of the Cambridge Police Station for hours, he figured. It was difficult to track the passage of time. His situation was a mixed bag, as far as he could tell. The good: he was alone, no cell mates to fear or deal with; he was unharmed; the police officers and the FBI agents had treated him with respect. The bad: he was in jail; he was being held with no chance of bail; and he had burned his one phone call by leaving a message for the NSA Section Chief George Mahoney on a private number Mahoney had given him, assuring him it was untraceable and completely secure. The message Lukas left was straight forward and to-the-point. “I’ve been arrested on suspicion of murder. I will need some help, like legal counsel. Please arrange for it as quickly as possible.”