The Theory of Death (29 page)

McAdams turned around. “Elaborate, please?”

“It was in the dining hall around eight. I texted you and then I tried calling you afterward, but it went straight to voice mail.”

McAdams took out his cell and made a face. “I was studying. I forgot to turn it on.”

“What happened, Mallon?” Decker asked.

“Apparently Rosser heard that you had visited Tolvard and asked about Eli and what he was studying. Anyway, when I met with him, he was furious.”

“Who was? Rosser?”

“No, Tolvard was. Rosser had called him up and they got into a big fight. Did I tell you that Tolvard took me on as my adviser?”

“No.” McAdams took out a paper pad and started writing down notes. “When did this happen?”

“Friday.”

“And Rosser approved it?”

“This was part of the big fight. See, I was being shuffled around from professor to professor. Tolvard was willing to take me on, but Rosser wouldn’t approve it since he wasn’t a math professor. So Tolvard appealed to the dean because of the unusual circumstances and he totally got my thesis anyway. The dean approved.”

“Which dean? Zhou?”

“No, she’s the dean of residency and student life meaning housing, personal problems, illness, if you want to take a leave of absence, things like that. Tolvard went to Dean Crane—Malcolm Crane. He’s the dean of student academics and he approved it. Rosser went apeshit. He stormed into the dining hall where Dr. Tolvard and I were having a thesis meeting and started
screaming
at him. It was wild!”

“What went down?” McAdams asked.

“Rosser was ballistic. He kept accusing Tolvard of stealing his students—first Eli, and then me. And that he was keeping Eli’s research from him and that anything Eli did with Tolvard belonged to him. And then Tolvard started yelling back, screaming that Rosser wasn’t fit to run a department and hadn’t published anything meaningful since the Stone Age. And then they literally went nose to nose. That’s when the pushing started. There was a lot of pushing and shoving and a chair and table got knocked down and food was all over the floor and each one said the other started it. Between you and me, Tolvard started the shoving, but I didn’t tell security that. Rosser is an asshole.” She turned to Rina. “Excuse my language.”

“What happened after security broke up the fight?”

“Rosser stormed off. I heard they both met with Dean Crane. I don’t know what was said, but Tolvard called me about two hours later and told me both he and Dean Crane thought it would be in my best interest to switch to the physics department, which means I would get a dual B.A. in physics and math, but it would also mean that I’d have to take four classes in summer school to meet the physics requirements for a B.A. But the good news is that the school would extend my scholarship. I’d also have to do a physics thesis and I’m totally not thrilled about that, either. I had no idea what to do, but then Tolvard said that I could carry on Eli’s research once he’s cleared it with the dean so that Rosser doesn’t feel he owns it, which he doesn’t. So I don’t need Eli’s papers from you because once Tolvard clears it with Dean Crane, he’ll give me the papers that Eli was working on.”

“Fantastic,” Decker said.

“So I really did want to come just because I’m creeped out, especially after what happened last night. You want to know what I think?”

“Of course.”

“I think Rosser is crazy enough to have killed Dr. Belfort. Before, I thought he was just a jerk. Now I’m not so sure. Certainly I wouldn’t want to be alone with him even in his office. He’s totally unhinged.”

“What about Tolvard?” McAdams asked. “You said he did the first push.”

“Tolvard was just reacting. When I spoke to him later, he was very calm. We’re meeting on Monday at his office in the afternoon unless you suspect him of something, in which case I’ll wait until he’s been cleared in your mind because like I said to you, Detective Decker, I don’t know who to trust at all in the school. All of us are walking around with this paranoia which I suppose isn’t really paranoia because Dr. Belfort was murdered.”

Mallon turned to Rina.

“Is there any coffee left?”

“Do you think you need caffeine?” McAdams said.

“Ha, ha. I’m wired because who wouldn’t be wired after that. Besides, I hardly slept at all. I need something to keep me alert.”

“Coffee’s only going to make you shaky,” Rina said. “Why don’t you close your eyes and take a nap. We’re going to be in the car for a while.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Give it a try.”

“Sure, why not.” She took her backpack from the floor and pulled out her phone. She stuck a headphone jack into it and popped in earbuds. Then she slumped back and closed her eyes. Within ten minutes, she was sleeping deeply.

McAdams said to Decker, “What do you think?”

“I think all academics are crazy.”

“I could have told you that. What do you think of Rosser as …” He lowered his voice even further. “As our number one suspect?”

“He’s a big guy.” Decker was also whispering. “Big enough to drag a body up the hill by himself. They lifted lots of prints from the house. Mainly I’m interested in doorknobs that had been smeared but not wiped clean, which I found interesting. That someone would take the time to confound the prints without a clean swipe.”

“Someone with intelligence.”

“Very much so. This is the thing. They lifted a partial from the end table where I found the hair and blood. I’ve been trying to enhance it to make it more readable, but we might just have to go with it. Tomorrow, I’ll start printing all the usual suspects—Rosser, Batra, Weissberg, Tolvard, Ferraga—”

“What does he have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know that he does. But he was on Eli’s committee.”

“What about our little miss back there?”

“Absolutely,” Decker said. “And what about Dean Zhou? Is she back from her conference yet?”

“Let me check my phone and see if she called or texted … oh, here we go. She texted me last night at nine in the evening, saying she’s back in town but can’t talk because she’s going into an emergency meeting with Dean Crane and the administration.”

“Get her alibi for where she was on the night Katrina died so we can rule her out.”

“She was at a math conference. I think it was held in Atlanta.”

“Then verify it. Get a statement from people who saw her.”

“You think she had something to do with it?”

“Not necessarily. We’re just hunting everyone down.”

“I’ll call her now.” McAdams punched in the numbers. “Hello, Dean Zhou? This is Detective Tyler McAdams, I’m sorry to have to call you so early, but … yes, I heard about the incident … how unfortunate … okay … okay … okay, but I would still like to talk to you … no, I can’t do it today, either. How about sometime tomorrow? … Twelve would be fine. In the meantime, I’d like to talk to some people who saw you at the conference, just to verify … no, it’s strictly routine. Just to eliminate you … wait, hold on.”

McAdams took out a sheet of paper.

“Could you spell that for me again? … Sure, you can text me, but in case I don’t get reception, if you could just give the names to me now … James Wallach and Ralph Kidder … Alf Kidder. Do you have their phone num—… okay, text me the numbers, that’s fine. Anyone else? … Mary Michelson. Thank you so much. By the way, about what happened last night. What’s the upshot? … I mean who owns what research? … okay, I understand. No, I was just curious. It’s just that we’re working with a suicide and a possible murder … I don’t know if their argument is relevant. I’m just collecting facts … thank you … and you’ll text those num—”

McAdams looked at the phone.

“She hung up. She didn’t like me poking around in what she called school affairs.”

“All the more reason to get her alibi squared away,” Decker said. “She was one of the first people who asked to see Eli’s papers. Kinda pushy about it, too.”

McAdams said, “Do you think she was part of Belfort’s sideline?”

“Maybe she was. Or maybe she wasn’t and wanted a piece of the action.”

Rina leaned forward. “Or maybe
she
was the one who ransacked Mallon’s room, looking for hidden papers.”

Decker said, “Rina, she wasn’t in town and she’s Chinese.”

“How do you know she wasn’t in town, and haven’t you ever heard of makeup and a wig?” When he didn’t answer, Rina said, “Is she slender built?”

“She is,” McAdams said.

“You asked me to name another mystery woman,” Rina said. “Don’t get peeved when I make a suggestion.”

Decker sighed. “You’re right. It’s a good suggestion. Just not one I was expecting. I’ve got a lot of suspects and nothing concrete. I’m sure Ryan Belfort is going to be displeased by the progress of this investigation.”

“It’s only been a couple of days, Peter.”

“No it’s been four days. Seven days since Eli committed suicide. God created the world in seven days. You think I could solve something by then.”

“You can’t work miracles, Peter. You’re not God.”

“And don’t I know it.”

O
NCE IN NEW
York City, Decker did a mental map because everyone was being dropped off at a different destination. Tyler was the first: the address, his stepgrandmother’s posh Park Avenue apartment. The street was three lanes in each direction with a median divider filled with flowers in the appropriate seasons. Now it was flat and overlaid with snow, with the exception of a few melting ice sculptures. Traffic, as usual, was clogged with the ritual horn honking that served little purpose except to add to the urban symphony. Decker pulled over to the curb and the doorman rushed out to open the car door and greet McAdams as if he were coming back from military action. Immediately the uniformed man relieved him of his lightweight briefcase.

“Welcome back, Mr. McAdams.”

“Thanks, Martin. How’s it going?”

“You know … little of this, little of that.”

“The usual.”

“You got it, Mr. McAdams.”

Tyler poked his head in the passenger window, talking to Decker. “You’ll call me later?”

“I will,” Decker said. “Get some studying done.”

“Unfortunately, that’ll happen because there’s nothing to distract me.” He tapped the car’s hood as he walked away, personified wealth in a cashmere coat with a fur collar.

Decker pulled the car out into thick traffic, going south.

Mallon rolled her eyes. “Figures” was all she said.

“There’s no shame in being rich,” Rina said.

“Did you see how the doorman rushed over like, God forbid, Tyler should carry his own briefcase?”

“It’s the doorman’s job and it’s honest wages.”

“Being professional ass-kissers.”

“Now there’s where you’re wrong. They and the super are the fabric of these fancy buildings. Without them, the residents are helpless. I guarantee you it’s not an easy job.”

Mallon didn’t answer.

“I may be biased,” Rina said. “I do like the uniform. I’ve seen pictures of Detective Decker in the early days, dressed in his uniform. Very handsome.”

“You’re making me blush.”

“You were a doorman?” Mallon asked.

Rina laughed. “No, I meant as a police officer.”

“Oh.” Mallon sounded less than enthusiastic. “Right. When was that? Like the sixties?”

Decker said, “Early seventies. I’m not that old. But the country was still in turmoil.”

“The Vietnam War?”

“Yes.”

“Did you beat up the protesters?”

“You have a way with words, Mallon.”

“I just meant there were a lot of protests and people got beat up.”

“A few got hurt. Most of them were simply arrested and let go a few hours later.”

“So what was the point of arresting them?”

“Not a good idea to sanction chaos in the streets, Mallon, no matter how futile the effort. Then people really do get hurt.” Decker turned onto Fifth, headed downtown. “I feel sorry for you kids nowadays. You’re always groping around to get the sixties going again and it never quite happens. And in answer to your question, I never beat up anyone.”

“But you arrested people.”

“Some idiots … including my ex-wife.”

“His ex-wife is a very nice woman,” Rina said. “That came out wrong.”

“If you say so,” Decker said.

From the back, Rina gave him a gentle slug.

“Did you always want to be a cop?” Mallon asked.

“Not a lifelong dream, but it was a natural coming out of the military.”

“You were in the army?”

“I was.”

“Did you like it?”

“
Like
it? No, I didn’t
like
it. I hated every moment of it. It was a nonstop brutal and bloody nightmare. I was drafted. Where I lived, if you were drafted, you served.”

“Sorry to bring it up.”

She sounded chastened. Decker said, “No problem. It’s part of my history. Even with the war going on, you could tell that the Vietnamese people were a nice lot when they weren’t sniping at you. Rina and I went back on a tour last year. I hardly recognized the country. We had a fantastic time. I kept trying to use my Vietnamese and I made everyone laugh. I served my country. I’m very proud of my country. I’m American through and through. But revisiting the country, I just kept wondering what the hell were we doing there? The passage of time … you see things differently.”

“What about you, Mrs. Decker?”

“What about me?”

“What’s your background?”

“Why don’t you go first, Mallon.”

“Nothing to tell, really. My parents divorced when I was seven. My father left to teach math in Leipzig and my mother is depressed all the time. I have a little sister who’s two years younger and way smarter than I am. She’s almost autistic. She’s at Berkeley and I don’t think she’ll ever return to the East Coast. They totally loved her. She not only found herself, she found others like her.”

“Do you keep in touch?”

“E-mail.”

“That’s good. Family is important.”

“So they tell me,” Mallon answered. “Now you, Mrs. Decker.”

“California born and bred. I grew up in Beverly Hills, which sounds a lot ritzier than it was. We had a duplex. Our family was on the top and my uncle and aunt and my two cousins lived on the bottom. My dad came from a family of eight and he and his uncle were the only ones who survived the Holocaust.”