Tunnel Vision (17 page)

“Must be. It was supposed to cover a lab on the properties of carcinogens.”

“I’ll let you take these, Tony. Have the students prepare to take it day after tomorrow,” she said as she handed him the exams. She thumbed through the files in the drawer, which appeared to contain master copies of other exams. She pushed the drawer shut and was preparing to open the last drawer when she stopped and glanced at the exams in Tony’s hand.

“Let me see those again for a minute.”

She took the papers and sat down at her

husband’s desk. She looked at each set of exams and counted them. “How many students are in Elliott’s graduate class?”

“Twenty-four. Why? Is an exam missing?”

“No, but there is something wrong.”

“But they’re all there.”

“They are, but not in the right order.”

Tony looked at her and she smiled. “You’re right about Elliott being paranoid,” she said. “He has a system of stacking his exams so he can tell immediately if they’ve been tampered with.”

“How?”

“See this class and section number?” she said pointing at the top of the exam.

“It’s got a typo in it. It should be Micro 2201, not 0424.”

“Look at the next one.”

“6006. I don’t get it.”

“Normally, students simply come in and take the exam,” she explained, leaning back in the desk chair.

“They never look at ordinary things such as the course number. Elliott uses a method that rotates six numbers throughout the exams and he always uses the same six numbers. First, our anniversary and then my birth date. The exams should always be 04-24-6006-12-43. These are in the wrong order. This exam should be 1243. Someone has rearranged the stack.”

“Maybe the doc dropped them or something.”

Helen looked at Tony and smiled. He smiled back at her and shook his head. “He’d rearrange them if he had, wouldn’t he?”

Helen nodded and went back to the stack. “Most of them seem to be in the right sequence. It’s just a few on top that are wrong. I think I should keep these for the police, Tony.”

“What about the exam?”

“Write a new one. I know Elliott would trust you to do that, but don’t tell the students it’s a different exam. Just be sure to cover the same material. Would you do that?”

“Sure. Do you want to see it before I give it?”

“No. I’m afraid that even after all the years I’ve lived with Elliott I’m still not that great in microbiology.”

WHEN BRODIE ARRIVED at work Friday, Maggie was at her desk looking through a file folder. She stopped reading when she saw Brodie and closed the folder. “This report from Travis County came in this morning. I hope you don’t mind if I looked over it.”

“Which report is it?”

“The traffic accident. Doesn’t seem to have been an accident after all.”

“That’s what they said last week. At least now it’s official,” Brodie said as she sat down and opened the folder. “How’s the face? You know, it almost looks like a bruise you might have gotten in a fight.”

“It’s fine, Lieutenant,” Maggie said, ignoring the speculation. “Coffee?”

She glanced around the office. “Who made it?”

“I did, but it may be weaker than you’re used to.”

“Mud would be weaker than we’re used to,” the lieutenant grunted.

She continued reading the report from the medical examiner until Maggie returned and set a cup in front of her. Reading over her shoulder as she turned the pages of the report, Maggie rested her hand lightly on Brodie’s shoulder. Although she felt the warmth of Maggie’s hand through her shirt, she chose not to say anything about the uninvited contact between them. It had once been an instinctive, natural touch. She had missed it more than she realized.

“Anything you didn’t know before?” Maggie

asked between sips of coffee.

“Seems our guy had a leg injury at some point. Screws in the right ankle.”

“No dental?”

“Nope. Teeth were conveniently removed.”

“Except for the ankle screws there doesn’t seem to be much to work with. Could be anybody.”

“Well, Detective, that’s why they pay us the big bucks. To make something out of nothing.”

Maggie continued to sip her coffee as she returned to her desk.

“Lieutenant Brodie,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“I want to apologize if my being here has

complicated things for you.”

“Why would it?”

“I just thought that...”

“Thought what?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“Look, Weston, your job is to do what I tell you and my job is to teach you the way we do things here,” she said calmly. “Okay?”

Brodie was saved from further conversation when the phone rang. She sat up and grabbed the receiver.

“Cedar Springs Police Department. Lieutenant Brodie.” She listened for a few seconds and then handed the phone to Maggie who took it with a questioning look on her face.

Brodie shrugged and said, “Your fan club, I guess.”

“This is Detective Weston.”

“Detective, Helen Brauner.”

“Good morning, Dr. Brauner. How can I help you?”

“You asked me to call after I checked Elliott’s office.”

“Did you find something?”

Maggie listened for a few minutes before speaking again.

“When can I meet you, Dr. Brauner?”

“I’ll be in my office a little before noon. Can we meet then?”

“Of course. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Maggie hung up and looked at Brodie, who was still going over the file from the Medical Examiner.

“That was Helen Brauner from the university. She reported her husband as a missing person last Sunday.”

“That the one you were playing Lone Ranger on Tuesday?”

“Yes.”

“Are you meeting with the wife again?”

“Around noon if it’s all right with you.”

“She didn’t say what she wanted on the phone?”

“I asked her to check her husband’s office to see if she noticed anything out of the ordinary. Something I wouldn’t have noticed. I assume she found something and preferred not to discuss it on the phone.”

“Okay. Follow it up,” Brodie said, returning to her file folder. “Maybe I’ll tag along to evaluate how you conduct yourself during an interview.”

“What about Nicholls?”

“He’s spending the morning going over our

burned-out Mercedes from Thursday night and interviewing the owner. Probably won’t be back until after lunch some time.”

BY ELEVEN FORTY-FIVE, the two women were

climbing the stairs leading to the second floor of the Chemistry Building in the university Science Quadrangle.

“Jesus, it stinks in here,” Brodie said.

“Didn’t you take chemistry in high school? There are always strange smells coming from the chemistry labs.”

“You’d think with all the brain power around here they could at least come up with chemicals that had a pleasant smell.”

“I think those are called perfumes and

deodorants.”

“Which office is hers?” Brodie asked as they reached the second floor.

“224,” Maggie said looking around. “Must be down this way.”

Brodie followed her down the hallway until they found a door that looked identical to the ones Maggie had seen in the Biology Building. The same block lettering identified the occupant, Helen K. Brauner, Ph.D., Chemistry. Maggie knocked on the office door and someone called out, “Come in.”

Maggie opened the door and looked around the outer office. The office was homey looking with curtains hanging from the windows. Helen Brauner appeared in the doorway of the inner office. She smiled when she saw the rookie detective.

“Sorry to yell like that Detective Weston, but I let my assistant go to lunch early and I was heating my own. Please come in.”

“Dr. Brauner, this is Lieutenant Brodie,” Maggie said. “My training officer.”

Helen smiled warmly at Brodie and extended her hand. “Please, come in. Can I offer you some lunch? I always have too much. Elliott usually shares it with me.”“No, we’re fine, Dr. Brauner, but thank you,”

Brodie smiled.

They sat on a couch in Helen Brauner’s office. Brodie looked around the office as Helen removed her lunch from a small microwave. She picked up two coffee cups and filled them, handing one to Brodie and the other to Maggie.

“If you’d like cream and sugar, there’s sugar on the table and cream in the refrigerator,” she said as she sat down with her lunch.

“This is fine,” Maggie said. “You said you found something in your husband’s office.”

“Yes. I don’t know how important it is, but it was something out of place.” Helen stood and handed a stack of papers to Maggie.

“What are these, Dr. Brauner?” Maggie asked.

“Exams. I got them from my husband’s office this morning. Elliott was supposed to give the exam last Friday, but since he disappeared Thursday it was never given.”

“And you think there’s something unusual about them?”

“Absolutely. They’re out of order.”

Helen Brauner explained her husband’s system of stacking exams to the detectives.

“You’ll excuse me, ma’am,” Brodie said, “but that seems like an awful lot of trouble for an exam. Did your husband suspect one of his students of cheating?”

“Tony, that’s Elliott’s assistant, called him paranoid and perhaps he was. Personally, I prefer to think of his system as a means of showing his affection for me in some small way. It may seem silly or sophomoric, but Elliott was never one to show affection in a grandiose manner.”

“So you believe someone tampered with the exams prior to them being given?” Maggie asked.

“It looks that way even though none of the exams are missing. I presume someone either read it or made a copy of it.”

“Who would be in a position to do that, Dr. Brauner?” Brodie asked.

“Certainly the people who would benefit most would be his students, but I have no idea how any of them would gain access to them,” Helen answered.

“What about Obregon?” Maggie asked.

Helen laughed lightly. “As far as I know, Tony didn’t have a reason to copy the exam. He isn’t a student in that particular class and he doesn’t have a key to the file cabinet where I found them.”

“Maybe he has a key you don’t know about,”

Maggie said.

“I asked him and he said he didn’t. I don’t believe Tony would lie to me, Detective.”

“Would he take a copy for another student in class? I’m sure there are students who would have been glad to pay for a copy.”

“Tony doesn’t like any of the students well enough to steal for them and I can’t believe he’d be involved in selling an exam.”

“Money can be a powerful motivator, Dr.

Brauner,” Brodie said.

“Lieutenant Brodie, Tony Obregon has too much to lose at this point in his academic career to risk being caught in such a scheme. He has literally dragged himself up from nothing to attain his current level of education. He is a doctoral candidate in Microbiology and any monetary gain he might make now is certainly surpassed by what lies ahead for him in research with any number of major research facilities. I know for a fact that my husband has personally recommended him for possible positions once he graduates.”

“Does Mr. Obregon know that? From what I

gathered he and your husband are not the best of friends,” Maggie said.

“Elliott recognizes Tony’s enormous potential, but it isn’t his desire to be Tony’s friend. As a matter of fact, and I probably shouldn’t even tell you this, Elliott is responsible for Tony’s remaining at the university and finishing his degree. He couldn’t stand the idea of him wasting his intellect. Last year, when his partial scholarship ran out, Elliott personally arranged to finance Tony’s final year. Anonymously, of course.”

“That was very generous of your husband,”

Maggie said.

“Generosity had nothing to do with it, Detective. Elliott knows talent when he sees it and he would do anything to prevent losing it. He believed if Tony left school until he had enough money to complete his education, he might never return.”

“Well, I think we have a few leads to work with now, Dr. Brauner. I appreciate your help,” Maggie said, closing her notebook. “We’ll take these exams with us, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

As Helen escorted them to her office door, Brodie stopped and looked back at the pictures she had hanging on the wall behind her desk.

“Are those pictures of you and your husband, ma’am?” she asked.

“Yes. A family album of sorts,” Helen said, smiling.

“I notice your husband is on crutches in one of them. Did he have an accident?”

Helen laughed. “Yes, and I’m afraid it was my fault. When I was younger I had a passion for ice skating. After I met Elliott I harangued the poor man into joining me. He tried for my sake, but it was the first and last time.”

Brodie smiled. “I can understand that. Trying to impress the woman he loved, huh?”

“Yes. He did pretty well for a while, but then his ankle gave way and ended a promising skating career.”

“He broke his ankle?” Maggie asked, following Brodie’s lead.

“Shattered it. The doctors had to use screws to hold everything in place. But it never bothered him, especially after we moved to the warmer climate here.”

Brodie touched Maggie on the arm and said, “We appreciate your help, Dr. Brauner. We’ll let you know if we find out anything.”

“Lieutenant,” Helen said, with a slight tremor in her voice. “You believe my husband is dead, don’t you?”

Brodie had difficulty looking at Helen Brauner as she spoke, “I’m afraid it’s a possibility, Dr. Brauner. I’m sorry.”

Even though tears filled her eyes, Helen Brauner stood up straight. “Thank you for your honesty, Lieutenant. When will you know for sure?”

Brodie reached out and placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “We’ll let you know as soon as possible, ma’am.”

Brodie was quiet as she and Maggie walked back to their car. She started the engine, rolled her window down and lit a cigarette.

“Damn fuckin’ shame,” Brodie said as she exhaled.

“Get the name of Brauner’s doctor and see if he has any x-rays showing the screw placement. We’ll send them over to Travis County for a comparison. Then at least she’ll know what happened to her husband.”