The Immortals

by Jordanna Max Brodsky

  Selene sensed Theo staring at her. “Selene? Are you okay?”

  She felt his hand on her shoulder and jerked backward. She hadn’t let a man touch her without her consent in a very long time. “Don’t.” Hippo growled, suddenly alert. Selene put a hand on the dog to quiet her.

  Theo’s brows flew upward. “I’m sorry… I just…”

  A swift knock on the door saved her from having to explain herself.

  The hunched man in the doorway with bug eyes and pockmarked skin reminded Selene of a goose caught mid-swallow. Selene could feel Hippo’s fur bristle as the man stepped into the room. The dog barked once, and Selene shushed her. “Theo. Ah. I didn’t know you had company.”

  “Bill Webb, meet Hippolyta and Selene. Ladies, this is the chairman of the Classics Department.”

  “Since when are dogs allowed in the university offices?” the man asked, staring at Hippo, who raised her lips in a snarl.

  “She’s a certified emotional support animal,” Theo said before Selene could respond.

  “I see. I’m sorry to hear you need such measures, but I suppose we’re all dealing with Helen’s death in different ways.” He eyed Theo’s safari hat.

  “Exactly.”

  “May I speak to you in my office?”

  “Of course.” Theo pulled off the hat and flashed Selene an unconvincing smile. “I’ll be right back.”

  A paragon of grace, Selene leaned back as far as the protesting desk chair would allow. “I’ll try to make myself comfortable.”

  When they were gone, Hippo instantly quieted. Soon, she was snoring loudly. Selene picked impatiently at the stuffing creeping through the chair cushion, noting the position of the sun outside the window. She didn’t have time to waste on either Theo’s laughter or his office politics. And she certainly didn’t like the way his smile made her feel a little better about the world.

  Selene moved to the window, resting her forehead on the pane. Beneath her, students walked across the quad in the afternoon light, their cheeks rosy with the flush of youth. A pair of young women in short skirts and tall boots giggled as they straggled behind a larger group of students. Women like them aren’t safe anymore on the streets of New York, Selene thought, remembering Sammi Mehra’s dangling feet. And here I am laughing with a mortal instead of protecting them. As she backed away from the window, her jacket caught on one of the many pushpins stuck into the wall, yanking it free.

  An index card fluttered onto the desk. She picked it up, glancing only briefly at its contents—something about the Dionysian connection to the Mysteries—and stuck it back on the wall. Then she saw her name on the next card over: Selene DiSilva. Moon Goddess. Probably deranged. Definitely dangerous. Contact only if desperate.

  So that’s what he thinks of me. A desperate lunatic to be avoided at all costs. Surprisingly, the revelation stung. Angry, she flung her backpack over her shoulder and turned to go. If the professor didn’t want anything to do with her, then she’d be more than happy to oblige.

  Chapter 19

  SHE WHO HELPS ONE CLIMB OUT

  “Are you aware your name is all over the Internet?” Webb seethed as they walked toward his office.

  “As a suspected psychopathic killer,” Theo replied calmly. “Actually, I’d managed to forget for a moment, but thanks so much for reminding me.”

  Webb opened the door to his office and gestured Theo through.

  Oh, good. Witnesses to my torment. Fritz Mossburg lounged in one of the leather armchairs, a glass of dark liquor held loosely in one hand, his piercing blue eyes moist. Theo could smell the alcohol from across the room. Too sweet, almost rotten. Mossburg jumped from his chair and embraced Theo, muttering horror-stricken platitudes all the while. He specialized in Greek theater and was known around campus for his Anderson Cooper good looks. When the other professors had begun to snub Theo after the eminent domain dispute, Mossburg had remained cordial. “God, Theo, what a disaster. And now you’ve been hauled in by the cops. What a day.”

  “The police station left a bit to be desired as a Saturday brunch destination,” Theo concurred.

  In the other armchair, Martin Andersen frowned over his own glass. “I don’t know how you can joke about this,” he chided. The older man’s grief for his dead wife lent an air of melancholy to everything he did, and yesterday’s tragedy had left him more dour than usual. Over the years, Theo had taken Martin out to dinner a few times, but his altruism quickly dissolved in the face of the older man’s nearly pathological lack of personality. Martin had continued to pursue the friendship with the doggedness of an antibiotic-resistant infection, offering to loan Theo esoteric volumes of Latin oratory, borrowing his dress shoes for a faculty club event, inviting him to dinners and plays, cornering him in the hallways to lecture him about the latest trends in Latin grammar. Theo tried to avoid him as politely as possible, and Martin had finally gotten the hint. He hadn’t called Theo in months. Now, Theo wished he’d been nicer. He had a feeling he was going to need an ally.

  Bill Webb cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, give me a moment with Dr. Schultz.”

  Andersen downed the last of his drink and left the room without saying more. Mossburg offered Theo a condolatory smile then followed him out.

  Webb settled into the leather chair behind his wide desk. He looks pretty good, Theo noted. Maybe Webb had finished his chemotherapy treatments.

  “Look, Schultz, I asked the senior faculty here, even though it’s a weekend, to try to sort out the best way to help the department deal with Helen’s passing.” Theo wasn’t sure when he’d been suddenly excluded from the “senior faculty,” but he held his tongue. “Obviously, you’ve been having an especially difficult time. But I’m afraid it’s become equally clear that your actions since Helen’s devastating loss have been less than professional.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Theo said with careful nonchalance.

  “Understandable, since there are so many possibilities. Where to begin? You’ve obstructed the murder investigation, gotten taken into police custody, and—let me see if I remember what the detective said—proposed an absurd theory about Helen’s participation in a latter-day Mystery Cult.”

  “It’s not absurd.”

  “It casts this university, and Helen, in a very poor light. What would her parents say?”

  “You spoke to Brandman?” said Theo, ignoring Webb’s last comment. Helen’s parents had died when she was in college, although clearly the chair never cared enough about her to learn that. “Are you the one who told him about my relationship with Helen?”

  Webb thrust out his chin. “What I did or did not say to the police is no concern of yours.”

  “And the sordid details of my love life aren’t yours.”

  “Anything to do with this department is my concern. I have a responsibility to uphold our reputation. Your actions have cast serious doubt on your judgment. We think it would be best if you take a leave of absence until this all blows over.”

  The words stung less than he’d expected. The humiliation paled in comparison to the murder case at hand. Still, he wasn’t going to go down without a protest. “What kind of scholar jumps to such shoddy conclusions? Even my students know better than to be swayed by scurrilous online rumors.”

  A smile floated across Webb’s lips, so brief Theo thought he’d imagined it. That bastard, he realized, he’s been looking for an excuse to fire me and I just played right into his hands. He’s enjoying this.

  “Oh yes, we all know about your ‘special relationship’ with the students and the community.” Webb made it sound as if Theo’d been sleeping with them rather than engaging in civil disobedience. “But it’s the parents, not the students, I’m worried about. We’ve been fielding angry calls all afternoon.” As if on cue, a phone rang down the hall at the reception desk. Theo could hear Violet answering the call, then speaking in soothing tones. He could only imagine the voice on the other end—How dare you let an accused murdere
r teach my son! What kind of institution are you running? “They’re the ones whose checks keep this institution afloat,” Webb went on. “And unlike you, some of us care about the future of the university. I might have let your misjudgments slide, but now half the city thinks you were involved in Helen’s murder.”

  “Do you think I killed that little girl in the hospital, too?” Theo snapped.

  “Of course not. But we can’t help the Internet rumors, can we?” This time, Webb’s smile was hard to misinterpret.

  “What about my classes?”

  “Nate Balinski already took over this morning’s seminar on translating ancient textual fragments. And once Everett is back on his feet, he’s perfectly capable of teaching Intro to Myth by himself.” Webb picked up a piece of paper from his desk. Theo recognized it as the syllabus for his course. “I see you’re spending the next unit comparing mythic heroes to comic book characters.” He gave Theo a pursed, condescending smirk. “I’m sure Everett will be up to the challenge.”

  I shouldn’t have eaten that pork dumpling, Theo realized. Because I might just puke it right up again. “Thank you, Bill,” he said lightly. “You’ve been surprisingly helpful—now I’ll have plenty of time to focus on the investigation.” He stood up. “I’ll let you get back to deciding how to destroy my career. It’s an unusual way to honor Helen’s memory, but I know everyone grieves differently.”

  As he headed back down the hall, Theo met Everett standing by the water cooler, a sheaf of papers under his arm.

  “Everett, what’re you doing here? I thought I told you to stay home as long as you needed.”

  “I was going crazy in my apartment. I just needed to be doing something, anything. And Bill asked the senior faculty…” he began, then dropped his gaze. As an assistant professor, Everett had never been considered “senior” anything. But it seemed that with Theo’s fall from grace, Everett had received an unofficial promotion.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Theo.

  “I am worried,” Everett insisted. “I’ve been hearing all sorts of crazy things.”

  “I had nothing to do with Helen’s murder.” Theo felt ridiculous even needing to say it.

  “Of course not.” Everett blanched. “But this Mystery Cult theory Bill said you’re floating… it’s just nuts, Theo.”

  “Speaking of which, do you know where Helen would have kept the draft of her book?”

  “She kept it on her laptop, but the cops said it’s missing from her apartment. Look, I know how much you cared about Helen. But—”

  Everett’s knowing tone made Theo’s cheeks grow hot. “She was a friend, that’s all.” He fought down a rising wave of guilt that threatened to have him blurting out the truth. Don’t be an asshole. Everett can never know about that night with Helen.

  “Of course. I just think your emotions are clouding your judgment. God knows they’ve been clouding mine. But I know we’ve got the best police force in the country. I think we should let them do their job.”

  Theo didn’t want to fight with Everett. But nor did he have any intention of giving up his search. “What’s that?” he asked, eyeing the pile of papers in Everett’s arms.

  “I was just picking up Helen’s mail. I thought maybe there was something I could give to her siblings. The cops took everything out of her apartment yesterday.” Theo immediately regretted not going through Helen’s in-box himself. Who knew what clues he could find?

  “It’s all just memos and junk mail, though,” Everett went on. He shrugged helplessly. “Already, there’s so little of her left.” He slid the papers into the recycling bin, his eyes gleaming wetly.

  “I’m sorry.” Theo said. For your loss. For my betrayal.

  “Me, too. And I’m sorry you’ve gotten all mixed up with this.”

  The genuine sympathy on Everett’s face suddenly made Theo want to enlist his help. Everett was a fine scholar with as much reason as Theo—more, even—to bring Helen’s killer to justice. And it wouldn’t hurt if Webb’s new favorite put in a good word for him at the next faculty meeting. Don’t be ridiculous, he chided himself sternly. Everett doesn’t make decisions for Webb or anyone else. He’s got enough to deal with without shouldering my problems, too. And you don’t deserve his help. Not after what you did.

  Together, they walked down the hall toward Theo’s office. His door was closed. As they approached, Everett turned to Theo in surprise, as if he’d heard something. “You have a visitor?”

  “I did.” He patted Everett on the back, aware once more of how the younger man’s well-muscled shoulders compared to his own narrow frame. “Let’s hope I still do.” Theo hesitated outside the door. Somehow, he didn’t feel up to introducing Everett to Selene. Everett took the hint and left by the back stairs.

  I bet she’s not even in there, Theo thought as he stood outside his office. Probably already left, unwilling to wait for a disgraced former professor.

  Theo steeled himself for disappointment and opened the door.

  Selene winced when she heard the door open behind her. She’d hoped to disappear before Theo got back. Instead, she was balancing precariously on his rolling chair beneath a gaping hole in the ceiling, a ventilation grate in one hand and a Swiss Army knife in the other. Theo closed the door quickly.

  “Something tells me you’re not just fixing my air-conditioning.”

  She stepped down off the chair and laid the grate on the floor, taking a moment to decide what to say. She was half tempted to retort, I’m bad news, remember? Listen to your own advice and just leave me alone. Instead, she asked, “What did your boss say?”

  “Just that he wants me to take a leave. Probably lose my tenure position, not to mention all chance of ever being hired by another university. Not in so many words, of course, but that was the gist. But you never answered my question. Why are you taking apart my office? And,” he continued with a small smile, “if it’s going to help us find our killer cult, can I help?”

  Selene stared at him for a second. She couldn’t help admiring his fortitude. After losing their jobs, most mortals she’d met would be completely incapacitated by humiliation. Shouldn’t he be weeping somewhere? Or getting drunk? Instead, he seemed determined to press on. So either he was surprisingly stalwart or naively optimistic. Or despite the notecard, she considered reluctantly, he just wants to spend time with me. She wasn’t sure if she found the thought terrifying or encouraging.

  “Well, if you must know, I’m breaking into Helen’s office.”

  “We’re going to crawl through the air ducts? We can actually do that?”

  “There’s no we here. I’m going to crawl through. Her office is just down the hall, so all the vents should connect. The police put a tamper-proof seal on the door. If I break it, they’ll know. But there’s no way I’m leaving this building without checking for her research notes.”

  He frowned for a second, as if considering the step he was about to take. Then he nodded. “I’m in.”

  “No, you’re not. You should stay here with Hippo.”

  “You know an awful lot about mythology for a PI, but you won’t be able to decipher Helen’s notes. Unless you’re going to tell me you happen to read Ancient Greek?” He flashed her a smile.

  Selene bit back a retort. No way she could answer that question. “You’re going to leave prints all over the place,” she said instead.

  He dug into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a pair of knit gloves with a flourish. “Fine,” she said with a resigned sigh. “But you have to do exactly what I tell you.”

  “Of course.” He nodded somberly, but she couldn’t help noticing the glint in his eye. For a man who didn’t get out of the library much, he was clearly enjoying the adventure.

  She raised a skeptical brow, then dug in her backpack for a moment and pulled out a flashlight. She’d be able to see in the dark, but Theo wouldn’t.

  “You certainly come prepared,” he said. “What else do you have in there?”

&
nbsp; “You don’t want to know,” she said, zipping it closed before he could catch the glimmer of her disassembled bow. She hopped lightly back up onto the rolling chair. “Who’s in the offices between here and Helen’s?”

  “It’s all associates and adjuncts, but none on of them are here on a Saturday.”

  “Good.” She handed him the flashlight. “But you’ll still have to be quiet. Any sound will carry into every office with a vent on the same shaft.”

  Selene grabbed hold of the vent’s edge, flipped upside down, then launched herself, feet first, into the airshaft. A moment later, Theo’s head appeared. She wriggled backward out of the way as he attempted to lever himself inside with his elbows. He managed to get his torso in, then turned to look at her with a mixture of humiliation and hilarity. “I’m stuck,” he mouthed. Selene rolled her eyes, but grabbed his elbow and hauled. An unfortunate clanking ensued, but eventually the professor lay securely inside the duct.

  Theo’s face was too close again, his pupils huge in the dim light. For a moment, she studied him with her newly improved night vision, knowing that he couldn’t return the scrutiny. His narrow lips were parted slightly. A lock of fair hair stuck behind his glasses, poking at his eyes. He brushed it aside, looking surprisingly vulnerable. Then he turned on the flashlight, blinding her. She winced and spun around, more comfortable with her feet in his face. With a whispered “Follow me,” she began shimmying down the shaft.

  Astoundingly, they made it to Helen’s office without mishap. Selene’s multi-tool easily opened the vent cover. She lowered herself through the hole and dropped the few feet to the ground, landing soundlessly. The professor followed, his legs swaying as his feet searched for purchase. She rolled a chair underneath him, but his shoe caught on the back, wrenching the chair from her hands, then spinning it toward her and knocking her backward. Before she could rise, the professor tumbled on top of her, his flashlight rolling free.