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

“Because it was none of your ‘godamed’ business,” he said, losing one of the “Ds” and running the two words together. His ran his right hand across his head. “OK, so now you know. Look, these things happen. Now, as I mentioned at the outset, I have to go to the conference room for a Zoom meeting.” He started to rise, but froze midway up when he saw that Wes and Jillian had not moved. “Very well, let me tell Grace to notify the others to proceed without me.” He finished standing and walked out from behind his desk and out into the hall, obviously annoyed, but he also seemed to Jillian to be shaken.

As Keefer stepped out of the room, Jillian smiled at Wes who shook his head in disbelief. She glanced to her right—his bookcases covered the side of the office where she sat—and made a mental note of five or six authors’ names. It was easy because his books were in alphabetical order, by author. She’d Google them later. She also snapped a quick photo with her IPAD.

Keefer was more subdued when he returned. “OK, here it is…we were at a conference toward the end of July…in Montreal. We had drinks at a publisher’s reception, wine with dinner, and ended-up in my room. These things happen sometimes…I’m sure you understand.” He again directed his comments to Wes.

Jillian noticed that several times as he spoke, Professor Keefer closed his eyes…as if he was disappearing into his own thoughts, or maybe he was focusing…anyway, he did this for as much as a sentence or two at the time.

Wes nodded. “Was this affair ongoing?”

“Yesss.”

Jillian was up next. “And, to your knowledge, was Professor Siemens seeing anyone else…in addition to you?”

“What,” he answered, clearly flummoxed. “No. I don’t know…I don’t think so. What sort of question is that?” He glared at Jillian.

She followed-up. “Was your affair with Professor Siemens related, in any way, to your promotion to an associate dean’s position?”

“Of course not,” he answered, eyes closed again. “And I resent the innuendo.”

Jillian nodded, and Wes asked the next question. They had agreed on the order of questions and also this back and forth of questioners on the walk over. “Well then, was your relationship with the victim related to you losing the dean’s position?”

Keefer looked first at Wes, then at Jillian. He was so angry he could barely contain himself. He reminded Jillian of Rumpelstiltskin, when he had the tantrum after the miller’s daughter says his secret name. Then, almost immediately, Keefer’s demeanor morphed into a ‘trapped animal’ look.

He got it together enough to answer. “Once again, certainly not. I don’t see why our relationship would have any bearing on a promotion, either (he pronounced it ‘ither’) for or against.”

Jillian nodded, then asked, “So, were you…are you seeing anyone else?”

“Look, I’m married…but it’s not what you think,” he all but sneered at Jillian. “We’re separated. Still, I really don’t want this to get out…the affair, I mean. I’d like a little consideration on this matter. We have a child…my wife and I.”

Wes said, “It’s not our job to publicize any of this, professor. We’re just conducting a murder investigation…you know, following the evidence.”

Jillian asked, “When did you last see Professor Siemens?”

“That would have been last Friday. We grabbed a cupa and actually talked about my promotion.”

“Where was this?”

“At the MU.”

“And when was the last time that you saw Professor Siemens romantically?”

Keefer was quiet for a time, and then said, ”That would have been Saturday evening.”

Jillian followed-up, “I don’t understand…you said the last time you saw her was Friday, but now it’s Saturday night. Which is it?”

He answered, eyes closed again, “OK, I misunderstood. I though you meant professionally, which was Friday, as I said.” He said this with emphasis, as if correcting Jillian’s error. “And we had a date Saturday night.”

Wes asked, “Where did the two of you go on the date?”

“Ah, we had dinner in the Arizona Center in Phoenix, and then went to the Arizona Symphony.”

Wes continued, “And did you stay over at Professor Siemens’ condo afterward?”

“Yes.” He was obviously exasperated, but also increasingly nervous. He rubbed his hand across his head again.

Jillian followed-up, “What time did you leave her condo?”

“I don’t know…exactly…I didn’t check my watch.” He glared at Jillian, as if daring her to challenge him. When she said nothing, he added, “We arose Sunday morning, had a leisurely cupa, and I left…and didn’t see her again until...” As he said this, his mood changed from combative to withdrawn. Jillian assumed that he was remembering Professor Siemens in her office…dead.

As the interview wound down, Keefer tried to reconnect on a friendly basis, saying he hoped that he’d answered their questions, and apologizing to Wes for not having been forthcoming before. It seemed to make him nervous that Wes and Jillian remained professionally non-committal. His eyes darted nervously from one to the other.

When they left Professor Keefer’s office, Jillian glanced over to Grace’s desk…she wasn’t there. But, as they exited the building, she was standing maybe twenty yards from the door…obviously waiting for them.

She smiled and said, “I hope my information helped.”

“Wes said, “Yes, mam, it did. Thank you.”

Jillian added, “Yes, Grace, thanks so much. By the way, on the phone you said that Professor Keefer might even be ‘out’ as chair. Is he…out? And, if he is, do you know who’ll the new chair will be?”

Grace ran her hand down her gold necklace and turned round a brooch to reveal an antique watch. She glanced at the time and said, “The senior faculty are meeting with the Dean in two hours.”

She looked over toward the former law school building, then refocused on Jillian. “Yes, Jonathan will no longer be the Chair of English…and yes, I have an idea of who’ll replace him…or maybe it’s just who I hope it’ll be,” she laughed.

When Jillian tilted her head, Grace answered her implied question, “But, let’s wait till it is