The Theory of Death (18 page)

“We’re treating this as a murder and not a suicide.”

“It’s a very, very suspicious death. I’ll be here at least a couple of hours, so you’ve got some time. Come back to Katrina’s house at around three-thirty and we’ll go through it with a fine-tooth comb. If you get hung up with something, leave a message on my phone. I don’t have reception here, but I’ll pick the message up when I’m back in civilization.”

“Got it.”

“I’m hoping you’re still planning to leave tomorrow, Tyler. Unfortunately for everyone, this throws a big wrench in my time schedule. I may not be able to drive you up because I might not get to Eli’s parents until Thursday.”

“What about Gold?”

“Oh, right. You can take the papers up to him when you go back. I just won’t be able to come with you.”

“Or we could both see Gold on Thursday.”

“The way things are going, Harvard, that’s a big if. You really need to get back to your former life.” When McAdams didn’t answer, Decker said, “Am I talking to deaf ears?”

“What?” McAdams quipped.

“Very funny.”

“I’ll be fine. Just make sure I don’t get shot again.”

“That is
not
going to happen.”

“Then I’m a happy camper. I’ll see you at Belfort’s house around … three-thirty?”

“Sounds good. By then, the light will be fading and we won’t be able to do too much out here anyway.” McAdams hesitated. Decker said, “What is it?”

“You really suspect Mallon Euler of this?”

“I have no opinions yet.”

“If you really do suspect her, I’ll show her the face and see how she reacts.”

“Let’s hold off. Her room was ransacked and she seemed pretty shaken. If she was involved with this mess, we’ll show her the postmortem photos at a more opportune time for us. If she wasn’t involved, there’s no sense giving her nightmares that’ll last a lifetime.”

AS SOON AS
Rosser saw the photos, he turned pale and his hands started shaking. “It looks like a grotesque version of Katrina Belfort.”

The man was ashen. Beads of sweat had congregated on his brow. He wiped his face with a tissue. He wore a dark green sweater and brown corduroy pants. Scuffed penny loafers sat on his feet. He tried to talk but words caught in his gullet.

McAdams said, “Do you need some water?”

“No … thank you.” Rosser was still trembling. “How did this
happen
?”

McAdams wasn’t sure if Rosser meant what was the method of death or what were the sociologic circumstances that led up to the death. In either case, the question was probably rhetorical and didn’t require an answer. He pulled up a chair and sat down. “How well did you know her?”

“She was a colleague.” He shook his head, his eyes faraway. “We didn’t socialize outside of the department, if that’s what you’re asking. Whatever spare time I have, I spend with my wife.” He wiped his face again. “God, this is awful.” He regarded McAdams. “Was it suicide like Elijah?”

When unsure how to reply, McAdams answered the question with a question. “What makes you think it’s suicide?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“Was Dr. Belfort close to Eli?”

“Not that I know of. She had been on Eli’s thesis committee, but she excused herself due to other commitments. Aldo Ferraga took her place. But I was his primary adviser.”

Questioning a person was harder than McAdams had thought. He was used to jumping off Decker’s train of thought. “Who else was on Eli’s committee?”

“There were three of us: Aldo Ferraga, Lennaeus Tolvard, and myself.”

“Lennaeus Tolvard?” McAdams hoped he sounded genuinely surprised.

“He’s in the physics department. It isn’t a must obviously, but it’s looked favorably upon when you round up an outside professor for your committee. I guess after Katrina resigned from Eli’s committee, he took it upon himself to recruit Tolvard.”

“Tolvard.” McAdams paused. “I’ve heard the name before.” Rosser said nothing and McAdams didn’t push it. Until he had a definite direction, he should stick to what Decker told him to do. “Who were Katrina’s students? We’ll need to talk to them.”

“I know she’s the primary adviser for Mallon Euler. I sent Mallon to her because I was just too busy. And I was trying to help Katrina build up her research lab and I thought Mallon was a good choice.”

“Did you send her anyone else?”

“Not personally, no. I believe she had three students in her lab: Mallon, of course. I think Ari Weissberg was also one of her students, although I don’t think he was happy being there.”

“Why not?”

“Her lab was just getting started. If you want to get into a top-tier program, it’s better to be in a lab where the professor is tenured. Not that there was anything wrong with Katrina. She was extremely bright. Just … untested, I want to say.”

“You said three students. Who’s the third student?”

“Oh yes. Damodar Batra. He was her first student. They seemed to get along very well … maybe too well.”

McAdams perked up. “Meaning?”

“He had been seen going in and out of her house. During daylight hours, mind you, but it is unprofessional to hold meetings with your students at your residence.”

“I see,” McAdams said. “Do you think professional turned to personal?”

“Nothing to indicate yes or no for that one.”

“Speaking of personal relationships, did Professor Belfort have a boyfriend?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Who were her friends?”

“I don’t know anything about her social life outside the college.”

“But you knew that Damodar Batra came over to her house.”

“It’s a small department in a small college. Things get around. But truly, I don’t know about her social life. At the few departmental parties we’ve had, she had always come alone.”

McAdams thought a moment. “How long has Dr. Belfort been with the college?”

“Two years. We had a search committee for candidates. It does the interviews, but all tenured faculty votes for final confirmation.”

“Who was on the search committee for Dr. Belfort?”

“I was, as was Aldo Ferraga. The third member at that time was Michael Mannix, who has since left for UC San Diego. Can’t say I blame him with these winters. We knew he was leaving. That’s why we were searching for someone. We needed to fill the void and Katrina’s specialty was similar to Michael’s.”

“Which was?”

“Probability theory. Over the course of the year, Katrina’s interests had changed to fast Fourier transforms, which can relate tangentially to probability theory. Whenever you’re working with the market fluctuations, you’re working with probabilities.”

McAdams said. “
Fast
Fourier transforms deal with fluctuations in the stock market?”

“Potentially yes.”

“Could you explain what Fourier transforms have to do with the stock market?”

“Do you know what Fourier transforms do?”

“They change functions from time to frequency and break down complex waves into simple ones.”

“Very good. Have you ever seen a graph of a stock within a single session of daily trading? The x-axis is time and the y-axis is the price. The stock has a daily high and low and everything in between the two numbers.”

“Yeah, it kind of zigzags like a bunch of thunderbolts.”

“Exactly. If you’re a day trader, it would be an advantage to know what kinds of waves make up the zigzag. The highs and lows would be characterized by the amplitude of the wave, and the frequency would characterize the space between the amplitude. If the frequency is long and the amplitude is low, the stock isn’t undergoing a lot of change. But a lot of stocks are volatile. If you knew the waves making up the pattern, in theory, you might be able to predict the stock’s next move: either up or down. And that would be tremendously helpful, especially in day trading, where fortunes can be made and lost within seconds.”

“So anything that can give you an edge on where the stock is going will help with the bottom line.”

“Theoretically yes.”

“Okay. Was Dr. Belfort plying her trade—her theoretical knowledge by day trading in the market?”

“I have no idea, Detective.”

“What about Elijah Wolf? Was he doing day trading, too?”

“Elijah?” Rosser made a face. “His research didn’t reflect any of that nonsense.”

“You think it’s nonsense?”

“Day trading is nonsense. It’s a fool’s game. Glorified gambling.”

Silently, McAdams agreed with him. “When was the last time you saw Dr. Belfort?”

Rosser sighed. “Sometime yesterday morning. We had been talking about Eli. She was still very upset. So upset that I wondered at the time if there wasn’t something else going on.”

“Like what?”

“Well …” Rosser sighed. “Batra wasn’t the only student seen coming and going from Katrina’s house. Not that I want to speak ill of the dead. But if you think it has some bearing on what happened to both of them, I feel it incumbent to say something.”

“Do you think she was having an affair with either boy?”

“How should I put this?” A pause. “After observing Katrina for the past year … well, she liked her admirers. Math is generally a department of young men. She was low person in the faculty, but she had her acolytes in the classroom.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to Batra. Anyone else I should speak with?”

“I’d say Batra is a good starting point.”

“And the last question, Dr. Rosser. Could you tell me where you were between ten last night and, say, three in the morning?”

“
Excuse
me?”

“Routine question, sir.”

“I was sleeping … well, not at ten. I was doing work at home until one and then I went to bed.”

“And your wife was with you during the period?”

“She went to bed earlier … around eleven.” He stared at McAdams. “I did not leave my house.”

“You were working on your computer?”

“Mostly by hand. My computer was hardly on.”

“Could I take a look at your computer? It might verify your time frame. And if you e-mailed something, it would show where geographically you were working.” Again there was silence. “Just a peek at your laptop—”

“I work on a desktop,” Rosser said.

“I can come to your house to look at your desktop.” McAdams waited. “It would help eliminate you as a suspect.”

“That is ridiculous.”

“I could come tonight … get it over with.”

“How about if I call you? I’m very, very busy.”

“Whatever works,” McAdams said. “I would think you’d do anything to get out of this mess.”

“I’m not in any mess, Detective. You can’t seriously suspect that I had anything to do with this ghastly affair.”

“What I think is immaterial. I’m just saying that it’s in everyone’s interest to cooperate.”

Rosser said, “I’m not hiding anything, I’m just busy. These past days have been horrific. Just give me a chance to settle my department. I’ll call you, Detective.”

He sounded disingenuous. To McAdams, insincerity counted as a lie.

T
HE SUN WAS
sinking fast and there wasn’t much that Decker could do in the fading light other than secure the area, which was done with a tent. Theoretically, it would block animal activity, but since the area still contained bits of blood and remains, the canvas wasn’t going to dissuade hungry, feral creatures from tearing down the structure. Decker made his way back to civilization with its heat, electricity, and phone reception. Katrina Belfort’s backyard was lit up with police spotlights. The temperature was dropping rapidly, and although Decker had packed hand and feet warmers, there was still numbness and pain in his fingers, toes, and nose. Because of last year’s murders, the police department had secured official crime scene tape, which had been placed across the front and back doors of Katrina’s house and around the perimeter of the yard. Detectives/police officers Karen and Kevin—known as K and K—were chatting under the backyard porch, comparing notes when Decker walked into their conversation.

Karen, the newest addition to Greenbury, was in her fifties, a transplant from Chicago PD. Like Decker, she wasn’t quite ready to retire, and since McAdams officially had left for law school, there was room for one more. She was tall with a weathered face holding blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a beak for a nose. Her avian features were more eagle than sparrow. Kevin Nickweed was large and big and had been with Greenbury much longer than Decker. At one time long ago, he had been an experienced detective in Milwaukee, but since his homicide skills were a bit rusty, he was happy to let Decker take the lead.

Kevin said, “The most interesting thing I picked up from neighbors is that Katrina often had people coming in and out of her house.”

Karen concurred. “Especially on the weekends.”

“Lots of parties?” Decker asked.

“No one talked about loud noises, just that she had visitors.”

“Young, old?”

“Mostly students,” Kevin said. “The same students by the descriptions: probably two or three males and one female, the girl described as average height, very thin with short blond hair.”

“Mallon Euler,” Decker said. “What about the boys?”

“One was Indian, the other two were nondescript white males—average height and weight. Their dress was the usual student stuff—jeans, sweatshirt, boots, and a backpack. One of the white kids was usually on a bike.”

“Damodar Batra was probably the Indian. He’s one of Belfort’s students. So was a guy named Ari Weissberg. Elijah wasn’t officially her student. And she wasn’t on his committee anymore. But he still could have visited her. I’ll get pictures for you to get a definite ID with the neighbors.”

Karen said, “I also got reports of an occasional visit from a thirtyish blond guy who was good-looking.”

“Ditto,” Kevin said. “One of the neighbors who told me that also remembers a car occasionally parked in front of her house late at night.”

“Oh?” Decker perked up. “What kind of a car?”

“A sedan. She couldn’t get more specific than that. I tried. I even showed her pictures of cars on my phone. She just kept shaking her head.”

“But she knew it was late at night.” Decker paused. “Any information about the
occupant
of the car?”