Russell Andrews - Hades

"Never got caught?"

"No. He really had it down pat. He'd cover himself with water so it looked like he was sweating up a storm, and he'd pant like crazy as if he were exhausted. I knew he was doing it, but no one else did. Evan was funny about stuff like that. I think he had to let someone know he was cheating-or it wouldn't have been worth it. Someone had to be aware that he was beating the system or I don't think he would have done it. I think he would have just kept running with the rest of us."

"How'd he do in the races?"

"That's the thing about Evan. He did fine. He didn't need the practice. He'd finish third or fourth or fifth. If he'd actually run hard and worked at it and trained, he could have finished first. But he didn't care enough to do it. He liked the cheating better. He was just basically dishonest."

"Is that why he got thrown out of school?"

Ellerbe thought long and hard about this. Took a swallow of tart lemonade, then another one. "No, I don't think so." He spoke slowly and carefully. "I think there were always problems with his grades-cheating on papers and exams, I mean. He got caught a couple of times, but somehow he was always able to weasel out of it."

"So what was it?" Justin asked. He wondered if it was safe to ask for a beer yet. Decided he should just stick with what he had and not rock the boat.

"Look," Ellerbe said, "the family's gone out of their way to keep this quiet. And I don't even know if it's true. I only got this secondhand."

"From who?"

"Evan was friendly with a guy named Bart Peterson. B. P. was another guy who liked to play a little fast and loose with the rules, also kind of an arrogant kid. Evan told him about this and B. P. told me."

"And now why don't you tell me?"

"What Bart told me was that Evan needed some money and his parents had cut him off. So he got another kid here to stage a fake kidnapping. I think Evan even got a TA to go in on it…" He saw the brief look of puzzlement in Justin's eyes, so he said, "Teaching assistant, sort of a faculty member in training. That was also one of Evan's-um-talents. He could always get people in authority to look the other way, to break the rules just for him. What B.P. told me was that Evan tried to get a hundred thousand dollars from his parents. But the whole thing got botched pretty quickly and Evan was transferred out."

"How'd the Harmons manage to keep this so quiet?"

Ellerbe rolled his eyes and said, "Do you really need to ask that question? Money."

"Enough money to get the school to expunge any record of Evan's behavior?"

"I do know for a fact that almost right after this supposedly happened, Evan's father donated a few hundred thousand dollars… I heard half a million… to Melman for the music building. The H. R. Harmon Music Building."

"Would have been cheaper to pay off his son."

"But not the Harmon way. You protect your children, but you don't reward them."

Justin pondered this last comment, then asked the amiable math professor, "Do you have a yearbook from the last couple of years you went to school with Evan?"

"I live twenty minutes from the school. I still teach there. I usually buy clothes that match the school colors. What do you think?"

Justin smiled thinly, then waited as Ellerbe went inside. It didn't take him long-his school-day mementos were clearly not packed away in some box in the attic-before he returned with two yearbooks. He handed them over and said, "I'd like them back, please. When you're done."

Justin promised. Took a long sip of the lemonade, and said, "Let me ask you something. Do you believe it? You think that's a true story, the one you just told me about the kidnapping?"

"Yes, I do. Two reasons. Bart Peterson was too dumb to make something like that up, so it had to come from Evan directly. And I think that, at heart, Evan Harmon was a crook. He liked to steal and he liked to lie. He just liked it."

Justin nodded. "And he was the kind of guy who did what he liked, is that right?"

"You got it," Vince Ellerbe said. "And I'll bet he was that way right up until the moment he died."

"I'll go you one further," Justin said. "I'll bet you it's exactly what got him killed."

Justin decided to take the ferry back from Connecticut to Long Island. The ferry was about twenty minutes into its voyage when Justin's cell phone rang. It was Billy DiPezio.

"You got an ID on my prints?" Justin asked.

"As a matter of fact, I do. And so do you. The results should be in your e-mail."

"Anything good?"

"No idea. The guy's meaningless to me."

"Connections to Lenny Rube?"

"Not that I can find."

"Rival mob?"

"I'm not sayin' no, Jay, but this guy ain't on my radar. His prints are on record, but I don't see any arrests, any suspicion, anything but the guy's name, which is all that's in the system. But that's not why I'm calling."

"Shit," Justin said. He knew that tone in Billy's voice and he felt goose bumps running down the back of his neck. "What happened?"

"The offices for the LaSalle Group were broken into last night. Files were taken."

"What files?"

"All sorts. But we do know that the lists that LaSalle's assistant made for you-"

"Ellen Loache."

"Yeah. Her hard copy of that is definitely gone." When Justin didn't say anything, Billy said, "Somebody sure seems to be very interested in what you're doin' and beatin' you to the punch."

"I just wish I knew what the hell I was doing." Justin sighed. "Was there any damage?"

"Only if you count the human kind."

"Oh Christ."

"One of the guys you met with, Stan Solomon."

"What the hell was he doing in the office on a Sunday night?"

"He was puttin' in some overtime, I guess you could say."

"What happened?"

"Had his windpipe broken. According to the witness, never knew what hit him."

"The witness? What witness?"

"Ellen Loache."

"She was there?"

"Yup. Ms. Loache… or I should say Mrs. Loache… is married. Looks like she and this guy Solomon liked to work together when no one else was around, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, Bill, I get the drift. I picked up on that when I was with them. Kind of thought there was something going on."

"Well, there was. And he was quite the valiant guy. When they realized there was an intruder, he told her to hide."

"But he didn't?"

"Nope. Not macho enough, I guess. And according to Mrs. Loache, when he saw who the intruder was he just kinda threw caution to the wind. Figured there was no danger."

"Who was he?"

"It wasn't a he, Jay. It was a she."

"A woman broke his windpipe?"

"Apparently one quick motion. Bam. That was it."

Even in the summer heat, Justin's skin turned cold as he flashed on the women who might possibly be in Ron LaSalle's office. Vicky, he thought. Then he thought, no, couldn't be her-she wasn't capable of doing that. And then he thought: Reggie. Could she have gotten up there and back down in time? Christ, was it Reggie?

"Okay, who was she?"

"We don't know. Ms. Loache didn't recognize her. Didn't even get a great look at her, she was too afraid, especially after she saw what happened to her boyfriend. All we got was that she was Asian."

"Asian?" He let his breath out in relief. "That's it? Nothing more specific?"

"Nothin' that's a giant help."

And then Justin saw her. It came as a sudden flash, something out of a movie, an image barreling into his brain. She was walking down the street, passing him by right after he'd left Wanda's car. Floating down the street was more like it.

"Billy, did Loache say anything else about her? Tall, really good-looking?"

"You got it. She said tall and beautiful, but she wouldn't recognize her again if she fell over her."

"It's okay. I would."