Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #4: Books 13-16 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (ereader iphone txt) 📖

Telegram so they could communicate with you, would you then tell them not to contact you on your phone, and delete the app?”

“Doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?”

“We are going round and round the mulberry bush.”

My phone rang.

“Stone.”

“I thought they only did that in the movies, Detective. This is Dr. Meigh. I have spoken to the Great and the Good at the university and they are willing to let you have sight of the research he had conducted so far. Obviously most of it will mean nothing to you, but he had extensive explanations and summaries that he had written in long hand which describe the work in layman’s terms.”

“That is good news. Thank you.”

“Now, there are conditions.”

“I imagined there would be.”

“We would like you to read the notes here, at my house. Nothing is to leave the room where you read it. You are not to photograph or record any part of the research, and we would require you to sign a nondisclosure agreement that, unless the research becomes material to a criminal investigation or a criminal trial, the NYPD, and you personally, will become liable to compensate the university in substantial damages if you disclose any of the contents of the research. And I do mean substantial.”

“That sounds very reasonable. Send over the agreement and I’ll get the inspector to sign it.”

“And you and your partner, Detective Stone.”

“And me and my partner, Dr. Meigh.”

“I’m sending it now. As soon as I receive the signed copy, you can come over. I’m at Port Washington for the next few days. Number fifty-five, Joels Place.”

The agreement arrived five minutes later by secure electronic messenger. We took it up to the inspector and scrutinized it. It was short and to the point, pretty much what she had said to me on the phone.

“I should send this to the legal department.” He said it running his fingers through his hair.

Dehan suppressed a sigh. “With all due respect, sir, that would kind of defeat the purpose. Once the lawyers get involved, it could delay the investigation by weeks. If we don’t find anything, it makes no odds. If we do, and it becomes relevant to the investigation, it’s in black and white. We can use it. Then we can bring in the lawyers.”

I said, “It’s two paragraphs. Send it to ADA Varufakis. See what he thinks.”

He tapped at his keyboard, then made the call.

“Costas? This is John Newman… Good, I’m fine. Listen, I just sent you something on the Jose Robles case… Yes I have my best team on it. You got an email from me?” He was quiet for a while. Then he said, “You happy with that?”

He was quiet again, watching us. Then he said, “I’ll pass it on. They’ll be in touch.”

He hung up and stared at the rim of his desk for a moment.

“He considers it is fine. He would like us all to get together for a talk when you have reviewed Robles’ research.”

Dehan spoke my own thoughts. “What is his interest in this case, sir?”

“I have no idea, Carmen. But I am becoming as curious as you are. I am curious about his interest, and I am very curious as to why Dr. Meigh has agreed to your having sight of the research.”

Dehan frowned. “Because she agrees there is a threat to her other researchers?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way, Carmen. If his research was so sensitive that it got him killed, the university would deny everything vehemently, close ranks and triple their private security. The research conducted by the major universities is worth billions of dollars, it can be highly classified material, attract massive government funding, and in those cases is guarded by ex-Navy Seals who work in the private sector. But instead of closing ranks and denying everything, she is inviting you to her house and opening the books.”

Dehan raised an eyebrow. “Then she has nothing to hide.”

“Then why the big show? Why the nonsense about not leaving the room, not making copies or photographs, the nondisclosure agreement? And why does Costas want a meeting afterwards?” He looked up at me. “This case has too many angles, John. What is it all about?”

I called Patricia Meigh.

“Detective, all in order?”

“It’s agreed and signed. Have you received it?”

She was quiet a moment, then said, “I have. Thank you.”

“We are on our way. We’ll see you within the hour.” I hung up. “Let’s go find out.”

EIGHT

It was a forty minute drive under heavy skies, sagging and pregnant with rain, sleet and snow. The East River looked as though it was congealing into ice, and the trees we saw along the Cross Island Parkway looked like naked zombies standing in line in a freezer. After Lake Success there were more evergreens and pines, but they did little to alleviate the gloom.

Dehan sat silent for the first twenty minutes, wrapped once again in her woolen hat, gloves and scarf, with her hands tucked between her knees. But as we slowed and started winding our way toward Manhasset, she said suddenly, “If this is what it’s starting to look like, we’ll have to hand it over to the Feds.”

I nodded. “If it is what it’s starting to look like, but the truth is, Dehan, it could look like a lot of things. Mohamed and a Sig Sauer make it look like Saudi industrial spies, Agnes and eight bullet holes in Robles’ chest make it look like frustrated love and sex. Am and his weird voices makes it look like the Mad Hatter’s tea party. Let’s reserve judgment and see what it looks like after Dr. Meigh shows us Robles’ research notes.”

She glanced at me, then looked out at the frozen landscape. “You think Varufakis has information he’s