Dead Cold Mystery Box Set 4 Page 40

  “Yes, sir, but I don’t really know anything about it.”

  “You probably know more than you realize. You know that Dr. Meigh, Detective Dehan and I are trying to clear her name. We feel that she has been wrongly accused of the murder of Dr. Robles.”

  I could feel Dehan’s eyes burning into the back of my head, but I ignored her. Cynthia’s eyes were wide. I said, “I had hoped to have a chat with Patricia—with Dr. Meigh—before leaving, but it seems I’ve missed her. So maybe you can help me a little more before we go.”

  “I’d be glad to, Detective, if I can…”

  “You see, it’s essential we find Agnes soon, before she does anything…” I let the words hang there a moment until Cynthia nodded once, slowly. “So, maybe you can tell me when was the last time that she visited Dr. Meigh?”

  She frowned hard. “Well, it’s hard to say, exactly. You see, she used to come over most Saturdays, sometimes Friday, and the last Saturday she was here was the Saturday before she…” She hesitated a moment, then concluded, “Before she went away...”

  “You see? That is so helpful. Obviously she’d stay till Sunday, they’d have a picnic…” I laughed. “All the usual stuff.”

  She was beginning to look troubled, like she knew she was being pumped and the doctor would be mad at her for talking to me. She nodded. “Yes, she always spent the weekend here.”

  I slipped her ten bucks and my card, and winked at her. “You have been very helpful, Cynthia. If you think of anything at all, however small, which you think might help us to find Dr. Shine before she does anything foolish, you give me a call, anytime, night or day. Got it?”

  She nodded and we left.

  In the car once again, Dehan, looking more like a wool elf than a wood elf, we backed out onto the road and started the slow, freezing drive back toward the Bronx. She crossed her arms and her ankles and stuck out her bottom lip in thought.

  “Well,” she said, “that was surprising.”

  “We came looking for one thing, and we found three different things instead.”

  She looked at me from under her eyebrows. “Three?”

  “Number three, I grant you, was a negative find, but, one.” I held up my thumb. “We found that Dr. Jose Robles did in fact have a sex life.” I held up my index finger. “Two, we found that he pursued it while Agnes was country housing at the weekends with her exalted friend, Patricia Meigh; and, and, no less important than those two interesting facts, Dehan.” I held up my middle finger. “We found that there was absolutely nothing remarkable about Dr. Robles’ research. In fact, there was a bit of that research missing.”

  She smirked a little smugly. “We also found something else. I said, ‘three’ like that because I counted four things.”

  “Four?”

  “We also found that Dr. Meigh lied to us when she said she was not that close to Agnes. She was close enough that they got together every weekend to go sailing and have picnics.”

  I nodded. “Indeed, Little Grasshopper, indeed, we found that too. And that is very important.”

  “You think she’s hiding Agnes?”

  “It possible, isn’t it?”

  “You think Cynthia will come through?”

  “No. I did my best, but I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, you did better than that. Poor kid’s knees were knocking with the post-pubescent hormonal riot that you unleashed inside her.”

  “Where do you learn to say such horrible things, Dehan?”

  “From reading your books.”

  “So, what have we got?”

  “May I?”

  “Please do.”

  “Jose and Agnes got into this very intense relationship based on emotional dependency. He was dominant and she was subservient. The most important aspect of this difference was that she depended entirely on him, whereas he had this insatiable need to have lots of people dependent on him. That need drove him to seek out other people, like Hays and possibly Am Nielsen.”

  “OK.”

  “Now, the thing is, their relationship is completely Platonic. We don’t know if it’s him or her or both of them who don’t want it, but we do know it ain’t happening. We also know that he may be hitting the sack with Alicia Cobos and that Saturday nights he is going to a club where he has lots of fun. Does Alicia go with him? We don’t know.”

  “We’ll have to ask.”

  “Now, my theory: Agnes wants their relationship to progress to the next level. She wants a full blown romantic relationship with him. But he only gets turned on by women who are not subservient.” She held up a woolen hand. “Don’t interrupt. He enjoys the power of dominating, but he only gets horny with women who don’t need him. That’s why he can’t with Agnes, but he can with Ali and he can with the hookers—nobody is less emotionally dependent than a hooker, right?”

  “Right. You have changed your mind about Alicia?”

  “Jury’s out. Anyway, Agnes gets to hear about his Saturday night capers, probably from Alicia. She calls him to her house, confronts him with it, and he follows their usual routine and humiliates her. But this time, the pain of rejection is too much, and she shoots him. The moment she realizes what she has done, she panics, jumps in her car and drives to her friend Patricia, who hides her and her car.” She turned and looked back over her shoulder at the receding road. “She is probably in that house right now.”

  I thought about it for a while, trying to visualize her in some kind of ménage a trios with Meigh’s husband. It didn’t really work.

  “Questions: what about the gun, what about the research, and what about Assistant DA Costas Varufakis?”

  NINE

  Instead of turning right toward the Bronx, I continued straight on through Queens and Brooklyn toward Manhattan. Dehan was saying, “The gun we already said might have any number of explanations. The research, she is just trying to fob us off because they are secretive about their products. It’s natural. As for the ADA, I don’t know, maybe he saw the same things we saw and thought it needed a deeper look than Gutierrez was giving it.”

  I nodded like I was listening and agreeing, but I wasn’t. I said, “Call Hays, will you? Ask him if Am is there. Don’t tell him we’re on our way. Just ask.”

  She put it on speaker. It rang a couple of times, then Hays’ voice said, “Yes?”

  “Dr. Hays, this is Detective Dehan. You remember we spoke yesterday.”

  “Well, of course I remember. I would have to have some kind of very serious condition…”

  I interrupted him. “Dr. Hays, we are phoning to ask about one of your students, Am Nielsen. Is he there today?”

  “Yes, he was in class today. He’s in all day.”

  On an impulse I asked him, “What kind of student is he, Dr. Hays?”

  “I have only had him a very short time, but I know Jose thought very highly of him, and from what I have seen of his work, I would say he is above average.”

  “Would you describe him as eccentric?”

  “No. Not any more than most science students at this level. You don’t have to be insane to be a scientist, Detective, but it helps.” There was an odd noise, as though he was suffocating, and I realized he was laughing.

  “That’s funny, Dr. Hays. I’ll have to remember it.”

  “I hope you do. Your recall expectations seem to be quite low, if your partner is anything to go by.”

  “Dr. Hays, I have one more question before you go. Who has replaced Dr. Robles on the research program?”

  “Nobody as yet.”

  “Right, OK, thank you.”

  We arrived at the university twenty minutes later. It was already getting dark. As we entered the lobby, I noticed a security guard. He was in his fifties, tall and wiry, and strongly built. He saw me looking at him and approached. He had a badge on his pocket with the legend VMS.

  “Can I help you?”

  I showed him my badge. “Detective Stone. We’re looking for Am Nielsen.”

  He smiled
. “There’re an awful lot of students here, Detective…”

  “This guy is a joker, six three, athletic, imitates accents…”

  He gave a lopsided smile and pointed toward the cafeteria. “That him?”

  “That’s him. Thanks.”

  He was sitting at a table with half a dozen other students. A couple of them were playing chess. There was a lot of talking and a lot of laughing, so they didn’t notice us approaching till we were almost upon them. But I did notice that Am was getting most of the laughs, poking fun at the guy whose move it was.

  “Mate in six, dude! No! Are you crazy? Not the bishop! OK! Good move! If you want to lose your queen, do that!”

  We stood, one on either side of him, and Dehan said, “Hello, Mr. Nielsen.”

  He jumped and turned, then gaped, and for a long moment he seemed only to be able to blink at her. Then he turned and looked at me. Finally, he said, “Detectives…”

  I turned to the rest of the table. They were frowning. “Mind if we borrow your joker for a bit?”

  Dehan winked at him. “Let’s go for a walk. You feel me, dude?”

  We walked him out to the lobby. The VMS guard had gone. We found a nest of chairs and sat. He drew breath but I raised a hand. “Let’s get the ground rules set first. Right now we are going to prosecute you for obstruction of justice. That will end your career as an engineer, and you will probably do time. Tell me another lie and you will be looking at accessory to murder.” He went pale. “Now, start talking and convince me not to prosecute you. Here’s a hint. Do that by telling me the truth.”

  “About what?”

  Dehan shook her head, squinting at him. “How about you start by explaining why the stupid act.”

  He took a breath, then sighed and shrugged. “I’m a clown. It’s compulsive. I get with people and I start clowning. When you came to see me, I just got caught up in the act.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “No, man, it’s not.”

  I sighed. “Come on, Am. You called me on the phone, remember? Why the hell did you call me? You have a university full of students you can clown with. You seriously expect us to believe that you called two cops on a homicide investigation just because you felt like clowning!”

  “No, no, no, of course not. I called you because we’d all heard that Dr. Shine was a suspect in Dr. Robles’ murder. It was eating at me. We all knew he treated her like shit, but she’s a really sweet woman and there was no way she shot him. I was sure his death had something to do with his research. I can’t tell you why. It was just a hunch. I knew if I called and said, ‘I’m Dr. Robles’ student and I think he was murdered for his research, but I have no evidence,’ you’d laugh at me and send me on my way.”

  “So you came up with that! You couldn’t think of anything more elaborate?”

  “No, man. I didn’t come up with it, I called and when you answered, all kind of, ‘Stone!’ I started playing a part and before I knew it…”

  “So how much of it was true?”

  “Pretty much all of it. It’s just, the way I told it was kind of elaborate.”

  “Your dad in Colorado, your name…”

  “Yeah, man. Maybe not quite so dramatic as I made it sound, but it’s all true.”

  Dehan pulled off her hat. “You said Robles intervened for you to be admitted…”

  “No, I was admitted to the university in the ordinary way. But I got a reputation for being a clown. I have a bad habit of mimicking the teachers in tutorials and shit. That’s not helpful in a serious institution like this one, however high your IQ is. So when I applied to assist on Dr. Meigh’s research program, initially they said no, but Robles intervened and got me on.”

  “So you already had a good relationship with him.”

  “Yeah, very good.”

  I cleared my throat and frowned. “The whole thing about the Robles-Americano electric engine…?”

  He nodded. “We talked about that.”

  “OK, so here’s the thing, I have just come from looking at his research and there is absolutely nothing exceptional about it at all. All he does is review existing technology and discuss how it can be improved. But there is nothing, nothing, in the way of solid proposals.”

  “How could you possibly have seen…”

  “Dr. Meigh gave us access.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head. “Meigh? No, our proposals were radical, we discussed them in depth…”

  “Nothing.”

  “But she wouldn’t have…”

  Dehan snapped, “Wouldn’t have what? Are you saying she kept stuff back?”

  “I don’t know, man. I’m just a student. I’m not even a graduate. You’d have to ask her…”

  I pressed him. “But you are certain that he had proposals that were revolutionary.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You just said so.”

  “Yeah, but you just said…”

  “Were you lying?”

  “No, man! Stop it!”

  “Think very carefully before you answer, Am. Did you and Robles discuss research that he was conducting that would be a radical improvement to the lithium ion battery?”

  He swallowed. “Yes. We did.”

  “And you were involved in that research?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where did he go Saturday nights?”

  He stared at me and went a sallow gray color. “What?”

  “Where did Robles go Saturday nights?”

  “I don’t know. I have no idea. How would I know?”

  “I need you to come to the station and make a statement.”

  “Now? I have a late seminar. I have a ton of work to do, man. I’ll be there first thing in the morning. Nine o’clock.”

  “We’ll take you and bring you back.”

  “C’mon man! Give me a break! I told you I’m struggling with my reputation here. If I’m seen leaving with the cops…”

  I sighed. “Nine AM, I want to see you there. And don’t even dream about changing your story.”

  “I’ll be there. I promise.”

  We walked back out into the dark. Little spits of freezing rain were being carried on the air by a light breeze. We climbed into the car. I fired her up and we pulled away toward the Bronx. The traffic was at its heaviest and we crawled along, stopping and starting among the broken, wet lights. I took out my cell and called the inspector.

  “John, where are you? I’ve had Costas on the phone twice in the last hour.”

  “We’re stuck in traffic, sir. We should be there within the hour.”

  “I’ll tell him to make his way over, then.”

  “Yes sir, we’ll be as quick as we can.”

  At Madison Square Park, however, I took a left and cruised slowly down West 25th. Dehan didn’t say anything because she knew what I was doing. I turned right on 8th and then right again onto West 26th. I slowed as we approached number 250. It was the Wells Fargo building. Above it there was a jiujitsu club, and above that was Dare 2 Dream, the club Dr. Jose Robles used to frequent on a Saturday night.

  It was ten to eight by the time we got back to the station. We found the Assistant District Attorney in the inspector’s office. He stood to greet us as we stripped off our coats.

  “John, Carmen, thank you for meeting with me. I know it’s a long day.”

  His manner and his voice were pleasant. He was in his forties, balding slightly, but his hair was still black. We sat and he studied first Dehan and then me. “How did you get on?”

  Dehan made a ball of her hat and said, “Before we get onto that, may I ask you a question, sir?”

  “Of course, but please, call me Costas.”

  “Have you a personal interest in this case?”

  His face hardened. “What are you suggesting, Detective?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything, sir. I’m just asking if you have a personal interest in the case.” He sighed and sat back in his chair. Dehan wen
t on. “We would like to know what prompted you to press for a continuation of this investigation, rather than accepting Detective Gutierrez’s conclusions. That’s a very unusual thing to do.”

  He said, carefully, “There seemed to be unexplained aspects to the case.”

  “Could you give us an example, sir?”

  He hesitated. “You pointed out yourselves, the gun. Not only was it an unusual choice for a woman like Agnes, but where did she get it from? Also, where is she? It is not easy to disappear that completely in this day and age, even for a professional criminal. Yet she has vanished without leaving a trace. Her cards have not been used. There has been a BOLO out on her and on her car for a couple of weeks, but there is not a trace of her.”

  Dehan leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and nodded several times. “Sir, Costas, my partner and I run the cold cases unit in this precinct. Our archive isn’t computerized yet, so it still fills two big cartons with cases. Some of them go back thirty years. What is it about this one, in particular, that makes it more important than all those other cases?”

  He stared for a long time at the floor. The inspector was looking hard at Dehan. Finally, Costas said, “You are quite right, Detective, and you have a right to know. Jose was a friend of mine. When I heard he had been murdered, it was a huge shock, and the more I looked at the murder scene, the less convincing I found it. Gutierrez is a good detective, but I asked John to put somebody on it who would look beneath the obvious.” He gestured at us with both hands. “I see he made a good choice.”

  She gave a humorless snort. “One thing you can say for this case is that there is nothing obvious about it. It seems everybody has half a story to tell.” He frowned at her and she held his eye, then said, “Dr. Meigh made Dr. Robles’ research available to us. We examined it. Obviously a lot of it was incomprehensible to us, but that part of it which was translated into layman’s terms seemed unremarkable. She left us alone with it without supervision, and if we had wanted to, we could have photographed and copied it. Her security was not lax, it was nonexistent.” She paused. “Another thing that struck us both as surprising was that the research was stored at her house.”