Bombshell Part 9

"Henry, did you tell someone I found my lover dead in the bathtub? Why ever did you say such a thing?"

Henry flushed, looked agonized, and popped his knuckles again. "Well, that blood the paramedics saw in the tub and what I heard meant someone else was there-and, well, I didn't know who, Delsey, that's all, I just said something about your maybe knowing him; it made it a little less scary, you know?"

Griffin let it go. "Is that all you remember, Henry?"

"Yes, sir."

Griffin nearly laughed at all the "sirring," since Henry Stoltzen looked to be a couple of years older than he was. He'd seen it before. It was the power of the FBI shield.

Griffin said, "Delsey, since I taught you well, I know you locked your front door when you left for Salazar's party. Whoever was in your place jimmied open the back door."

She stared at him. "I didn't know. I must not have noticed when I went in. I still don't remember anything."

They heard Claus say, "Sir, you can't go in there-"

Henry said, "Oh my, it's Dr. Hayman."

Griffin raised his hand. "It's okay, Claus. Thank you." He watched Dr. Elliot Hayman, director of Stanislaus, walk-no, stroll-into the room.

So this was Professor Salazar's brother. Dr. Hayman was a bit taller than his twin, a bit leaner, and even more the fashion plate in a fur-lined suede jacket, perfectly pleated black slacks, white shirt, tie, and Italian loafers he'd obviously protected since they had a high shine and no sign of snow or mud. Apart from a certain Mediterranean look, there wasn't much physical resemblance between them. There were no slashes of gray at Dr. Hayman's temples. He looked younger than his brother, and, Griffin thought, he appeared more thoughtful. Dr. Hayman's eyes rested on Griffin; his dark brows went up. He didn't look through Griffin, as his brother had. He met his eyes and nodded. "So I'm told you are Delsey's brother, Agent Griffin Hammersmith of the FBI?"

"Yes, I am." He shook Dr. Hayman's hand, a fine hand with long, thin fingers, like his brother's. Griffin had to admit Dr. Hayman looked more a convincing aristocrat than his smooth lizard twin. He had more gravitas, had the look of the man in charge of his kingdom.

"I am glad to meet you, Agent Hammersmith. I have come because I was quite worried when I heard Delsey had been hurt. She is one of our finest students. No one could tell me what happened. Ah, here is Mr. Stoltzen. How are you today, Henry? How is the Rubinstein cello concerto coming along?"

Henry beamed. "I'll be ready, sir."

"Yes, of course you will."

Henry darted Delsey a glance. "I, ah, I've got to go, Delsey, all right?"

She nodded, waited for Henry to leave, then said to Dr. Hayman, "Thank you for coming, sir."

"Of course. You and your brother, you have different last names. Why is this?"

Delsey smiled up at him. "Freestone was my married name. Even though I'm no longer married, I liked the name because it sang to me, and so I kept it." She left unspoken even though it belonged to a real loser. "How did you know Griffin is my brother?"

"Ah, your brother has already been around town, asking Rafael, and many of your well-wishers, about you. I heard he was here at the same time I learned of your injury." He walked regally to Delsey's bedside and took her hand. "My poor child, whatever has happened? Are you all right?"

With the way he'd recognized and treated Henry, the concern he was showing for Delsey, Griffin thought Dr. Hayman had all the charm and charisma his twin lacked.

"Could you please tell me what happened?"

Griffin gave him the general outline, but no more than he needed to know. "Dr. Hayman, I understand my sister had a bit too much to drink at your brother's party last night. Something to do with your special margaritas?"

Dr. Hayman nodded toward Delsey. "If that had anything to do with what happened to you, I am very sorry." He smiled down at her. "The party gave me an opportunity to speak to you, since there is so little opportunity at school. But then you quite disappeared and no one knew where you were. What happened?"

"I decided to go home, Dr. Hayman, and someone hit me on the head in my apartment."

Dr. Hayman waited for her to say more, but she didn't.

Griffin said, "Sir, have you noticed anyone recently who didn't seem to belong on campus? Someone you found not quite right?"

Dr. Hayman seemed to give this thought, stroking his chin with his beautiful long, thin fingers. "I'm sorry, but no. I am quite busy in my position, Agent Hammersmith. There is so much to do each day, so many students demanding my attention, not to mention the faculty and the board of directors. It sometimes seems a whirlwind, and I see so many people. It's rare that I'm able to simply enjoy the company of a student as I did last night. But then you were gone, Delsey, simply gone, and I must say, I was a bit worried." He gave her a warm smile.

"They tell me I will be fine, probably back to school in a couple of days. Please don't worry about me. Thank you for coming to see me."

"It is my responsibility to worry about my students," he said, but gave Delsey a warmer smile than Griffin thought was necessary or appropriate. "Such a shock, someone in your apartment, striking you down. I certainly hope our law enforcement officers will get to the bottom of this quickly and put an end to it. We cannot have such things happening to our students; the board will not stand for it." He added to Griffin, "I am glad you're here to help them, Agent Hammersmith."

Griffin nodded.

Dr. Hayman said to Delsey, "You will call me if there is anything you require? And you, Agent Hammersmith? If there is anything we can do to sort this all out, we are at your service."

Griffin followed Dr. Hayman out of Delsey's hospital room, impressed with how well he wore the mantle of director of Stanislaus, like a well-picked actor from central casting. Unlike his brother, Dr. Hayman was one to quiet troubled waters, not stir them up.

There was nothing Griffin liked better than to stir troubled waters. He said without preamble, "Why are you so interested in my sister, Dr. Hayman?"

Dr. Hayman said, "I am interested in all my students, Agent Hammersmith. Delsey reminds me of your incredible grandmother Aladonna Hammersmith. She was an immensely talented woman, both witty and charming. I can still remember her incomparable voice, her artistry. I consider it a privilege to mentor her granddaughter and perhaps change her mind about continuing in a commercial direction with her compositions. She should be developing her talent to create something lasting with her music."

"Thank you for those nice words about my grandmother, Dr. Hayman. As for Delsey, she has never been at a loss about what direction to take her life. I met your brother this morning. Why is it you invited him here as a visiting professor?"

Dr. Hayman blinked, taken off guard for a moment, but clearly understanding why Griffin was asking. "Rafael is a fine musician, and, more important, he has the ability and the temperament to teach, which many talented musicians do not. He was more than qualified to join the Stanislaus faculty." He looked back at Griffin as if daring him to express an opinion.

"I wish you a good day, Agent Hammersmith, and hope you will solve this nasty business. If you would be so kind as to keep me informed? And of Delsey's progress as well."

Griffin nodded. Dr. Hayman shook his hand again, and walked away.

When Griffin returned to Delsey's room, she said, "I remember now. I remember seeing a dead man in my bathtub."

Savich's house

Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

Sat.u.r.day evening

Since a record snowfall had brought Washington to a standstill, Savich Skyped his agents and Mr. Maitland from home. He looked at each of them arrayed in front of him on MAX's new twenty-three-inch monitor. He could see Mr. Maitland's wife moving around in the background, carrying what looked like a huge bowl of guacamole and chips for her four sons, whose eyes were probably fixed on the play-off game the agents were missing. In smaller boxes were the faces of agents Ollie Hamish, Lucy Carlyle, and Coop McKnight. Ollie rocked his infant daughter in his arms.

Savich said, "Thomas Malcolm Cronin was twenty years old, a student at Magdalene College in Boonton, Virginia, about an hour's drive from the Beltway. As you probably know, Magdalene is a small, prestigious, liberal-arts school with an outstanding academic reputation. Most of its endowments come from its wealthy alumni, leaders in both the business world and in politics, in roughly the same percentage as Harvard or Yale. It's very private and very expensive.

"Thomas declared a business major at the beginning of the fall semester, junior year, with an emphasis in international banking."

"Like his granddaddy," Agent Lucy Carlyle said, "following in the steps of the Big Buddha."