Jeffery Deaver - The Lesson of Her Death

She guessed her father had found the magazines and that was why they were fighting.

She tried to ignore them now and turned back to her immediate problem.

Which was what should she give to the Sunshine Man?

She wanted him to have something special. Something personal from her. But when she tried to think of a present her mind went blank. Maybe she could -

The sounds from the next room grew louder. Jamie was mad and her parents spoke in grim voices. It was the way they had talked when Grandpa got sick in the middle of the night and went to the hospital and then didn't come home ever again.

Then the voices finally stopped and she heard Jamie go into his room and close the door and she heard music start up, the soundtrack from that science fiction movie he'd seen three or four times.

What would the Sunshine Man like?

When her parents went to parties her mother always took a cake or something like that. But Sarah didn't know how to bake. She looked around the room, surveying her toys, videotapes, a dozen stuffed animals… Ah, that seemed like a good choice – because he had made Redford T. Bedford fly out to the circle of stones two weeks ago it was pretty clear that he liked animals and they liked him.

She picked one, a small cinnamon bear that her mother had named Chutney.

She put a pink scarf around Chutney's neck and then carried him to the window and together they looked out over the backyard. She took the note from her pocket. This time she read it out loud so that the bear could hear what the Sunshine Man had written to her.

Dear Sarah, meet me tomorrow at our magic stones. Be there at three o'clock. Don't tell anyone. I'll make sure you never have to go to school ever again.

Dean Larraby said, "I suspect you have two minds about it."

Brian Okun said, "Well, of course… What can I say? He's my boss. I've learned more about literature from him than from anyone. I respect him immensely."

The dean continued, "He was in San Francisco when the murders were committed. So the rumor that he was involved in the girls' deaths, well, there's no foundation to that."

"You mean, Leon was a suspect? "

"The police, you know how it is. Fools. But I'm not concerned about the deaths. The question is whether Professor Gilchrist was dating either Jennie Gebben or Emily Rossiter. Do you know if he was intimate with either of them?"

"Is that what you asked me here about?"

"You're the one he's closest to."

Okun shook his head. "But if he's not a suspect…"

The dean's square matronly face turned to Okun. This was her pose of sincerity but she spoke with menace. "I think the most despicable misuse of power is for a professor to seduce his students."

"I agree one hundred percent. But I don't believe it for a minute about Professor Gilchrist. In fact the only rumors I heard were about him and Jennie. Nothing about Emily."

"So you did hear something."

He paused, his eyes evasive with embarrassment. "But you can't believe campus gossip…"

"If he was sleeping with her I'll have him dismissed at once."

"Of course the temptation's there. He lives alone, you know. He's a recluse." Okun shook his head. "No, what am I saying? No, as far as I know he never dated her." The voice lowered. "There was some talk, you know, that he was a, well, homosexual."

The South surfaced in both grimace and inflection. "That's nearly as bad," she muttered.

As bay-ad. Okun deliberated for a moment. "I…"

"Yes?"

He shook his head. "I was going to suggest something. But it doesn't really seem supportable."

"Please say it."

"Well…" Okun's voice faded and his eyes landed on the dean's diploma. University of Kentucky. Chabm school …

She said, "I hope you feel your first loyalty is to Auden."

He sighed. "Dean, I'm as concerned about this as you are. To be blunt, I've invested a lot of time and effort in Leon. I have nothing but respect for him and I want to see him vindicated. I want the opportunity to prove he's innocent. Let me check around his office, see if I can find something about Jennie. Maybe a note from her. Maybe an entry in his desk calendar. If I can't, well, let's just accept that this was a tragic rumor. If I do I promise I'll show it to you and you can make your own decision."

"That's very courageous of you."

"It's not courageous at all. This school's been good to me. I owe Auden a great deal." Okun paused. "The only thing is…"

"Yes?"

"Well, I'd be taking a big risk. This would be, well, spying." He extended his palms and laughed at the plebian word. "Leon would fire me in a minute if he found out I'd looked through his personal things."

"If he was sleeping with Jennie we'd dismiss him. He'd be no threat to you."

"But if he wasn't sleeping with her…" You stupid bitch. "That," he added delicately, "is the only time when it would be a risk."

"Of course." The dean debated and Okun watched her thoughts stroll to where his were impatiently waiting. She said, "There would be a simple way of protecting you. You've applied for a teaching position here, haven't you?"

"Subject to the acceptance of my dissertation, of course."

"I could talk to the Appointments Committee. I couldn't guarantee much of a salary."

"I'm a scholar," Okun said. "Money is irrelevant."

Through the window came a buzz of an old lawn mower. A breeze was blowing but he could detect no scent of cut grass. Okun looked at the worker moving like a drone. He felt abject pity for the man's unimaginative life, a mass of dull years utterly without the cocaine of intellect.

The dean asked coyly, "Have we just agreed to something?"

A quote of Nietzsche's came to mind. Okun rewrote it slightly and was pleased with the result. Man is the only animal that makes promises and fulfills threats.

After a sleepless night Corde drove Jamie to the Sheriff's Department. Red-eyed and ragged with anger and exhaustion, Corde had sat silently in the car. Jamie, however, was talkative, almost flighty, as if the two of them were going fishing. In fact he seemed happier than if they were going fishing. It made Corde's anger boil harder.

He remembered the way his son's eyes used to brighten when Corde took him for an unauthorized ride in the squad car, a delight Jamie had had no desire to experience in the last few years. Corde glanced at him then back to the road. Somewhere deep in his son, he eagerly believed, was Corde's own fundamental manner, which is why he felt so often that words were unnecessary between them. And now it hurt, oh it hurt, to see the boy wall this nature up as well as he did, secure as a hogtied prisoner, with this chatter. Corde didn't say a single word all the five-mile drive to the Sheriffs Department.

T.T. Ebbans said, "Hello, Bill. Hi, Jamie."

Miller waved uneasily to both of them. Corde looked at the astrological chart on the wall prominently taped above Slocum's desk then nodded to both men. Through the doorway of Ribbon's office Corde saw Ribbon and Charlie Mahoney the Family Representative talking. The sheriff glanced up, saw Jamie then walked over to the others. Mahoney hung in the doorway.

There was a long moment's silence then Corde said, "Jamie tells me he was alone that evening."

Ebbans was nodding. He had on his face a smile that meant nothing. "Well," he began and fell silent. No one spoke. Ribbon stared intensely at the boy. Corde studied the floor.

"Jamie," Ebbans finally continued. "We just want to ask you a few questions. You don't mind, do you?"

"No sir."

"Why don't we go into the back office?"

The boy looked at his father and started after Ebbans. Corde followed. Ribbon said, "Bill. Just a minute." He stopped. Ebbans and Jamie disappeared through the door. Neither looked back.