Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar Gray Cavender (motivational novels for students .TXT) 📖

the issues in local high schools and in the state legislature. Her discussions always included harassment of LGBTQ students.

They gossiped about what was ‘up’ in the Research Division, and about Jillian’s job shift to ASU. Jillian promised to invite her over to ASU PD and show her around.

Ersula also asked about Clay Neely, the criminal Jillian had captured, an event that had, on the one hand, gotten her in trouble with Tempe PD and, on the other, had prompted her job shift at Tempe PD. Fortunately (to Jillian), they arrived back at HQ so there was no time to discuss the ‘incident.’

Wes was on the phone, but motioned Jillian in to his office. She took the chair opposite him. While he talked, he pushed a folder to her: it was the Angel’s preliminary report. Jillian skipped the photos and turned to the actual report. Time of death: 12:30 plus or minus one hour. Cause of death: blunt force trauma. There was, indeed, a fourth head wound. Rape Kit: inconsequential. As for the physical details: blood on the paperweight, on Professor Siemens’ blouse, on the mat under her office chair, as well as smudges here and there, and hers was the only blood source anywhere. Forensic tests confirmed that the paperweight was ‘more than likely’ the murder weapon: it contained both her blood and tissue matches, and its surface configuration matched her head wounds. There were no usable prints on its surface and no DNA either…the end without the blood had been wiped clean except for a single smudge…Angel said they were working it. Angle had hand written: “whoever did this knew what they were doing.” There was a short summary at the end: “Nothing of note in the Professor’s office in the BAC Building; nothing of note in condo; nothing of note in her car.

Wes hung up, pointed to the report and said, “So, pretty much what we already knew…except now we know it with science. How’d the Task Force meeting go?”

Jillian gave him a brief summary of the meeting and concluded, “They had a lot of questions, Wes, about our case.”

“Well, I know you were ready for that…probably had an organized summary for them…maybe even a power point.” He smiled.

She laughed, “I hope it’s OK, but I promised an arrest by the end of the day.”

“Absolutely…and you said you lacked confidence. Anyway, just let me know who, and I’ll be there…right behind you.”

“Seriously, Wes, they’re all really upset.”

“They’re professors…they live in a kind of a bubble…the campus…it’s their own little world. And, that bubble of safety has been burst…they’re just plain scared, Jilly.

She nodded and sighed, then asked, “So, what’s next?”

“’Well, first, I wanted to tell you about the latest from Peter Voss and his crew. They were knocking on doors at the professor’s condo and showing the photos that you printed. No one had anything bad to say about the Professor…she’s a good neighbor…the usual. Nothing on that lawyer, Bradley, but one guy ID’d Professor Spann’s photo…although he said that he’d seen him ‘some time ago.’ He was vague about when…still, he was certain that he recognized him.” Wes thought for a couple of beats, then said, “Pretty much the same for the photo of her more recent lover, David Roberts…although a couple of people said they’d seen him visiting her more recently. But, one of them also was vague about when he had seen him…’sometime this summer’ was the neighbor’s best recollection.”

“So, nothing much, really,” Jillian volunteered.

“Yeah…I don’t like the feeling that we’re getting nowhere, and the clock is ticking.”

Jillian nodded. “Any estimate on when we’ll get the rest of forensics stuff? An analysis of her devices would helpful.”

“Agreed, and maybe something will materialize from our meeting with the Prez. I doubt it, but, who knows?”

They had a quick lunch on Mill Avenue, then headed to The Foundation Building on University. The Office of the President was on the fourth floor. After the usual assistant’s anteroom office and a showing of credentials, they were ushered into President Davidos’ office.

Almost as a matter of professional habit, Jillian noticed the décor when she entered a room the first time. President Davisos’ office was large and light…spacious and with many windows. Two photos on the wall showed him as a younger man. One was an action shot of him playing soccer—he was a goalie, captured in a horizontal moment, blocking a kick. The other was a photo of him fencing…at least she assumed it was him because he was wearing a fencing mask. Jillian thought that in both photos, he looked to be of college age.

Four diplomas were stacked—top to bottom—in a row on the wall near the door: London School of Economics (PhD in Social Policy); London School of Economics (MPhil in Social Policy); Utrecht University (Masters in Public Administration); University of Ghent—it just read UGent (undergraduate degree in Politicology). Jillian assumed that in Europe this was the term for Political Science. The wall nearest the diplomas held an oversized aerial photo of ASU.

A large tapestry hung on the wall behind his desk. Against a black background, a knight was standing by a rock at the edge of a stream, wearing golden armor, a dark green cape, and a red sash…leaning on his broadsword…a shield at his feet. A red cross—a kind of a ‘t’—was emblazoned on the knight’s breast plate and another one was scrolled on his shield. All of the colors were vivid and rich, and the weave was so dense that it almost gave the tapestry a sense of texture, of depth.

Jillian tried not to stare, but she wondered if the knight was supposed to be some kind of Templar…literally, a Knights Templar. She’d check this out…later.

The furniture—desk, chairs, couch, more chairs and a bookcase—looked to be both expensive and minimalist at the same time. Jillian would have liked to get a photo of his furniture and google the prices later. As best she could see, the books on the shelves to the side of his