“So you’re giving back.”
“Giving to whoever wants the benefit of my experience.”
“I would think that’s a natural by-product of your profession.”
“Psychology? You’d be surprised, Detective. Most academic appointments, even clinical psychology appointments, are research oriented. I do very little therapy—well, I take that back. I do very little paid therapy. I do a great deal of listening at the LGBT Center.”
“You’re a good listener?”
“I try to be.”
“So what did you hear about Delilah Occum?”
“So we’re back there.” Kramer shrugged. “There were a few rumors that she ran away with someone she met over the Internet. When she wasn’t located within a week, most of us thought the obvious.”
“That she had been murdered.”
“Yes.”
“Any candidates for whodunit?”
Kramer shifted uncomfortably. “I think that’s your department.”
“If you have some names, I’m also a good listener.”
“No names. The rumors were that she liked to party. And she liked boys. At her age, what girls don’t like boys? Kids get drunk. Kids use drugs. There’s always a possibility of something accidental happening. At least that was the theory.”
“Okay. What did you think about Cameron Snowe?”
“I don’t know her.”
“It’s a him. He was Delilah’s part-time boyfriend.”
“I don’t know him. Was he a Duxbury student?”
“Morse McKinley.”
“That’s probably why I don’t know him.”
“Had you ever crossed paths with Delilah?”
“I know she had been enrolled in my Intro to Psych class because I was notified when she went missing. But I don’t recall ever talking to her. I didn’t even know what she looked like until I saw her picture in the paper.”
“How many people are usually enrolled in that class?”
“It’s one of the largest in the consortium. I think Deerfield Hall holds seven hundred students and the class has a waiting list. I only teach once a week, and the seminars are run by my TAs. You can see why I don’t know every individual student, although I do try to reach out as much as I can. I have student hours twice a week although I’m only required to hold them once a week.”
“Yes, I meant to ask you about that. It’s a Duxbury class and Delilah was a Clarion student. How did she make it into a Duxbury class when you had a waiting list of Duxbury students?”
“I have an appointment in both colleges.”
“I know that. But there is an Intro to Psych class at Clarion.”
“There’s no favoritism, Detective. I’ll tell you how it works, okay?”
“Fill me in.”
“Clarion is considered the sister school to Duxbury. If Delilah was a psychology major, even if she went to Clarion she’d have priority over a nonpsych major at Duxbury.”
“But you don’t remember her.”
“Seven hundred people? No, I don’t remember her. I just remember when it happened. It was a very intense experience. The police helped the school organize the search. You should talk to your colleagues. They’d probably have way more to tell you than I do.”
“I’ve talked to my colleagues and read the files. There are a lot of names. But I wasn’t around here when it happened and you were. It always helps to get a direct account.”
“Of what? I don’t know anything.”
“But you know college students better than I do.”
Kramer sighed. “Is there anything else?”
“Professor, I’m just trying to get Delilah some justice. There are always some bad apples in the barrel, and the faculty usually know who they are.”
“Are you talking about students?”
“Students . . . faculty . . . employees.”
“I don’t know anyone.” He paused. “But as you said, there are always bad apples everywhere and in my opinion—my nonprofessional opinion—the women are always at a disadvantage. Despite all this female empowerment, if something bad happens to them, they either blame themselves or tell themselves it really wasn’t rape when it was. In a school like Morse McKinley, the boys take pride in their aggression. The saying is: no means yes, and yes means anal. I would have thought it was a male student who went too far with Delilah. But the fact that you found three bodies up there would point to something more than an accidental murder.”
“Unless it was a bad apple who continually had accidents. And since we are dealing with three students, it’s likely that there’s an association with the colleges.”
“Are you saying we have a serial killer here?”
“I’m not saying anything. I’m asking for your help. You probably know nasty pieces of work who have been around the colleges for the last eight years.”
“I know more than a few nasty people who have been here for eight years, but I don’t think any of them are murderers. And I would never name names.”
“Even if it meant catching a person who potentially has murdered three times?”
“Bring me evidence. I’m not telling you names based on what I feel.” Kramer looked at his watch. “I have a meeting to catch. Anything else?”
Decker handed Kramer his card. “If you change your mind about naming names, there are several sets of parents that would be very grateful.”
“That’s a low blow.”
“You tell me to do my job, Professor. Low blows are an integral part of it.”
The rest of the afternoon limped along: bits and pieces surfaced that might be relevant in the future, but had no meaning in the immediate. Since he had an interview with Michael Pallek scheduled at six in the evening, Decker took off early and was home by four. Rina had just started to prepare dinner. The sound of her voice was soothing to his nerves.
“Are you going to have time to eat before your interview?”
“Probably not.” Decker sighed. “Just keep it warm for me.”
“Will do,” Rina said. “Jacob and Ilana and the dogs are coming in on the Friday just before Yom Tov.”
“Is that a problem for you? All those dogs?”
“No. The dogs are fun. They never talk back.” She laughed. “Honestly, I’m more concerned about feeding all those people. I really think I took on too much this time.”
“You always say that and you always come through like a pro. I’ll help you with the lunches, darlin’. Just tell me what to do. God knows you’ve always come through for me.”
He was down. Rina said, “If anyone can find out what happened at Bogat, it’s you.”
“You know how these cold cases work. For every year that has passed, it takes that much time to solve it. I’m looking at seven years from the disappearance of Yvette Jones.”
“I’m sure it won’t take you seven years.”
“You’re right. It could take me longer.”
“How’s Dana Berinson?”
“Ah, the one positive note. It looks like she has a fighting chance. They’re going to bring her out of her induced coma. It has to be done in stages.”
“That’s great. What happened? Did she fall asleep at the wheel?”
Decker debated how much to tell her. He always found it easier to be truthful. “It wasn’t an accident, Rina. It was attempted murder.”
“Oh . . .” She brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh my, that’s horrible.”
“Yes, it is.” He explained the circumstances.
“Wow. Someone put in a lot of effort to hide the crime.” She paused. “Drug dealers.”
“Most likely.”
“Will she be in a state to be interviewed later?”
“I don’t know. I sent McAdams up north to prepare for school. If she wakes up, he can go to the hospital and I’ll meet him up there. I have to eliminate her from the Bogat murders.”
“Why would you think this is related to Bogat?”
“I don’t know that it
is, but I haven’t totally ruled it out. Most likely, her bad habits caught up with her.”
Rina managed a strained smile. “How did the interview go with Kramer?”
“All right. Nothing explosive. I don’t think I’m going to find out much from Pallek, either. It was so long ago. And profs tend to be a little arrogant.”
“Are you thinking of anyone in particular?”
“Hank Carter comes to mind, although I have nothing on him. He’s slick. I’d love to interview him again.”
“So why don’t you just show up and do it?”
“I need a reason, Rina. Otherwise, I’m just harassing the guy.”
“Why did he make your list in the first place?”
“Yvette Jones was last seen leaving his lecture.”
“That’s right.”
“Dana Berinson’s roommate was rhapsodizing about him. His classes are so popular that they’re impossible to get into. He does give these free lectures in the evening about once a month. Even those are SRO.”
Rina thought a moment. “I’ve got a lamebrain idea.”
“No, you’re not going to talk to him.”
“Of course not. What would I ask him? Are you a serial killer?” Decker laughed and she said, “But I could go hear one of his public lectures . . . let you know what I think.”
Decker didn’t answer. He took out his phone and began to play with the search engine. “And as it happens, he’s giving one tonight at eight. What’s today? Wednesday?”
“Yes, today is Wednesday. Come with me.”
“I don’t know about that. Harassment and all that.” He exhaled. “Look, darlin’, I’m your biggest fan. No one is as sharp and perceptive as you. But if he is guilty of something, I have to think twice about putting you near him.”
“It’s a public place. If the lecture is as crowded as people say, why would he notice me?”
“You’re noticeable. I don’t feel comfortable sending you there alone.”
“Peter, there will be hundreds of other people. Forget about dinner. Pick me up afterward and we’ll talk and grab some coffee and even maybe something to eat. What’s he lecturing on by the way?”
Decker looked down at the search engine. “Uh, the talk is called ‘Societal Dynamics of Wealth Inequality.’ What does that even mean?”
“Let me go and I’ll find out. You can meet me outside the hall when it’s done. Then we’ll go out afterward. A perfectly nice evening.”
Decker was reluctant. “Okay, go. I’ll pick you up after it’s over. Do not walk home by yourself even if I’m late. Wait for me.”
“Deal.”
“Thanks.” Decker smiled. “I will be curious about what you think. People who talk about Carter keep using the word charismatic. Don’t fall under his spell.”
Rina shrugged. “I’m not one for prognosticators and prophets. I’m usually not taken in by charisma.”
“Obviously.” Decker leaned over and kissed her. “You married me.”
Chapter 28
Over the phone, McAdams asked, “How did the interview with Kramer go?” After Decker gave him the synopsis, the kid said, “You’re not liking him as a serial killer?”
“No. When does law school start?”
“Monday. What about the other two, Michael Pallek and Lydia Urbana?”
“I’m meeting with Pallek in an hour at the Coffee Encounter on campus. I don’t know why he chose a public place rather than his office.”
“Maybe he doesn’t feel comfortable with the police.”
“I don’t think he feels comfortable with anything. I got a weird vibe from him.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Kramer’s a psych prof but he’s got normal affect. With Pallek, there were a lot of awkward pauses, like he was shrinking me in his head.”
“That could be the baloney afraid of the slicer.”
“Or he could be weird.”
“That, too.”
“The final autopsy report came back on Delilah Occum. Her cranium looks intact, no gunshot wounds or stab marks on the bones. Her hyoid is broken, but it’s a small bone that breaks easily. She could have been strangled, drowned, or poisoned.”
“Wouldn’t poison show up in her hair?”
“Her hair was checked for arsenic and thallium. Nothing. If she overdosed, it wouldn’t show up in what was left of her. We’re still waiting on the final report on Yvette Jones. Her bones are also intact except for the hyoid. I’m sure her death will also be ruled inconclusive.”
“But we know that Pettigrew was definitely murdered.”
“Yes. He was bashed on the head. We’ve been scouring the area for additional bodies and a possible murder weapon for Pettigrew. Everything happened so long ago. It’s hard to piece things together. I talked to Radar yesterday. He’s trying to get a court order to see if anyone with Erin Young’s Social Security number has filed taxes in the last four years.”
“So you still think she’s alive.”
“We haven’t found her at Bogat. I’m clinging to whatever I have. That’s pretty much it, Harvard. I’m starting to pore over the material that we found in or around the graves, see if anything’s worth testing.”
“What do you have?”
“Bits of fiber and fabric in the graves, but a wealth of things around the graves: old articles of clothing, a few errant sneakers, and tons of trash—mostly discarded food containers or wrappers. Litterbugs are alive and well. That’s it for now. Go back to your study group or whatever you Ivy Leaguers do.”
“It’s five in the evening. This Ivy Leaguer is eating a sandwich.”
“How’s your sandwich?”
“Not as good as the ones Rina makes. What’s going on with Dana Berinson? Is she still alive?”
“Ah, yes. I called earlier in the afternoon. She’s defying the odds every hour she breathes. The swelling on the brain is going down. It looks like she’s going to pull through, but even if she does, there’s a good chance that she won’t remember what happened to her. Traumatic amnesia.”
“She could also have some recollection later on.”
“We can hope. The local police have a guard stationed outside her hospital room. No one is coming in to finish off the job. Not that she’s ever left alone. One parent is always with her.”
“Poor kid.”
“Indeed. How’s the second-year curriculum looking, Harvard?”
“I’m at a real disadvantage not having taken an internship in corporate law. On the other hand, criminal law is going to be a breeze. It’s interesting for me to examine cases from the defense side.”
“Are you thinking of switching sides, Benedict?”
“You have to know the other side to know the weaknesses. Call me after you’ve spoken to Michael Pallek.”
“Sure.”
“You said you’d call me after Jason Kramer, yet here I am calling you. Why do I feel like I’m getting stood up?”
“I’ll call you after the conversation,” Decker said. “It might be late, though. Rina and I are going to meet for coffee and then we have to watch Roman Gladiator.”
“You’re watching Roman Gladiator?”
“Yes, I am. It’s something that Rina and I have decided to do together.”
“So, you can teach an old man new tricks.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Seriously, it’s nice that you guys have a good marriage.”
“It’s all about the compromise, Harvard. She scratches my back: I give her a shiatsu massage.”
At six feet, four inches—maybe minus a half inch for older age—Decker was used to looking down at faces. Even so, Michael Pallek was short: in shoes, maybe two inches taller than Rina, who stood five five in her stocking feet. What he lacked in height, he made up for in hair—a thick brown mop that sprouted on him like a mushroom. He had pond-colored eyes, a straight nose, high cheekbones, and a white smile. He was lanky and might be considered boyish and cute rather than masculine an
d handsome. He wore a polo shirt and jeans with Vans on his feet. He was thirty-nine, but could have passed for ten years younger.
The Coffee Encounter was filled with tables and chairs occupied by dozens of coeds, and the entry of two older men made most of the women look up from their laptops, tablets, or phones. Everybody was dressed casually—shorts or jeans and T-shirts with the occasional hoodie. Being as it was packed with no AC running, the room was hot. Decker had ordered an iced coffee, but it turned out to be lukewarm with tiny flecks of ice floating in a sea of black. He loosened his tie and took off his jacket, hanging it on the back of a wooden chair.
Immediately, Pallek checked his watch. The meeting was scheduled for 6:30. It was now 6:32. Decker said, “In a hurry?”
“I have a seminar in an hour. How long do you think this will take?” His voice was newscaster mellow, but he was anything but. He kept shifting in his seat. He took a sip of what looked to be iced tea. “I don’t know why I’m even here. Well, I take that back. I think it has something to do with Bogat. I know you’ve talked to others about it. I don’t know how I can help you. I don’t know any more than anyone else.”
He certainly said a lot without prompting. Decker said, “What do you know about Bogat?”
“Nothing. I mean, I know you found bodies up there. They’re the missing girls, right? I heard you also found a young man who was a former student at Morse McKinley. Lawrence Pettigrew.”
“So you know quite a bit.”
“Everyone knows that. Everybody is talking about it. I mean, how many students go missing from the colleges? Just the few, right?”
“What can you tell me about the disappearances?”
“Nothing.”
“You must remember when the women disappeared.”
“Of course. The first one was a student at Morse McKinley. It was very upsetting for us. I mean, for everyone, but especially Morse McKinley.”
“Did you know her?”
“Yvette Jones? No, I didn’t know her. I didn’t even remember her name until I looked it up before I met with you.”
“It was upsetting for you, but you didn’t remember her name?”
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