The Theory of Death (26 page)

“I have some papers that he had stashed with his brother,” Decker said. “And you can’t tell the context of the research from the math.”

“Are you going to ask Tolvard about it?”

“That was my next step.”

“He won’t admit working with Eli,” Mallon said. “It’s tantamount to admitting he stole Dr. Rosser’s student. If you’d just let me take a look at the pages, there must be something I can figure out. And if he thought I could assume the mantle of his work, I would be happy to honor him. Why should his brilliance go to waste?”

“This is the deal, Mallon,” Decker said. “Until we figure out what happened with Dr. Belfort and we’re absolutely positive that Elijah’s suicide isn’t related to her death, we cannot show you anything. Maybe once the crimes are completely resolved, we can talk about giving you the papers.”

“Fine!” Mallon crossed her arms again. “This is so frustrating.”

“Well, as long as you’re in here, in the backseat of my car, how about if you tell us everything you knew about Dr. Belfort’s operation.”

“I told you everything. She was using stochastic oscillator for market momentum. I have no idea what algorithms she was using. If you have her computer, you could probably find out. I’m sure everything’s in there.”

Decker thought about her words. If someone was after Belfort’s algorithm, why not just steal the computer when she wasn’t home? As he mulled that over, he thought maybe Belfort, like Mallon, always had her computer with her. In that case, if someone had wanted it, he or she would have to break into her house during the night when she was in bed sleeping, and swipe the computer without waking her up. Maybe she caught the thief in the act and there was a confrontation and he pushed her—

“Peter, Mallon is talking to you,” Rina said.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I’m just saying even if the algorithm is on her computer, you probably wouldn’t have any idea how to differentiate it from all of her other math.”

“No, probably not.”

“I can help you, you know. I could be like an expert witness or whatever.”

Decker smiled. “Thank you for your generous offer. And maybe we’ll take you up on it. But not now.”

She threw up her hands. “Just remember when this is all over, Eli’s papers belong to me.”

“Duly noted.”

No one spoke.

The rest of the ride home was mercifully silent.

HOME SWEET HOME,
except it was freezing. Rina took off her cashmere tam and laid it on the entry hall table, but kept her jacket on until it warmed up inside. “Did you turn down the heat?”

“Have you seen our oil bills?” When Rina didn’t answer, Decker said, “Mea culpa. I apologize.”

“Just for that, I’m not cooking,” she announced.

“You don’t need an excuse not to cook.”

“I know that, but this is a convenient one. I’m too tired. So either we’re going out to eat or we’re getting takeout. And I don’t want meat. I just had deli for lunch.”

Decker said, “If you don’t want meat, how about Falafel King?”

“That’s meat.”

“I’ll get a shawarma, you can get a falafel.”

“How about Vegan Paradise?”

“I’d rather go to Falafel King.”

“I don’t want a falafel.”

“Okay, how about this?” Decker said. “I’ll go to Simon’s and get a brisket sandwich for myself and get you whatever you want at Vegan Paradise.”

“Fine. I’ll have a vegan taco plate and a minestrone soup.” Rina was beginning to warm up. It put her in a better mood. “You don’t mind making two stops?”

“Not a problem, my love. What about you, Tyler?”

“A brisket sandwich sounds good.”

Rina said, “I’ll thaw out, and open a good bottle of wine.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Decker slipped on gloves, a scarf, and a hat. “I’ve been in the car all day. I’m going to walk.”

Forty minutes later, Decker rewarmed the food and within five minutes everyone was eating. Tyler had started a fire in the hearth, and with the heat turned up, the house had turned pleasant. A gentle snow was falling on the ground. It was the perfect time to stay indoors and read a book in a comfy chair while sipping an extra glass of wine.

Rina said, “Are you two done for the night?”

Decker checked his watch. It was seven. “Well, no one called with any news updates, so I guess the answer is yes.”

“I got a bunch of syllabi today,” McAdams said. “I’m going to read them over and see what I need to concentrate on. What’s on the agenda tomorrow, Peter?”

“First, I want to see if the tech got anywhere with Dr. Belfort’s computer. I’d also like to meet with Tolvard. Find out what Eli was doing.”

“Do you think the research had anything to do with his suicide?”

“Beats me,” Decker said. “But it certainly wouldn’t hurt to flesh him out a little. Speaking of an enigma, if there’s nothing new on Belfort, I want to go to Manhattan and visit Katrina’s brother on Sunday.”

“Did you say Manhattan?” Rina said.

“Yes, you can call the kids.”

“Dinner?”

“Whatever you and the kids want.”

“I’ll have all Saturday to study,” McAdams said. “I’ll hitch a ride with you guys. While you’re out to dinner with the family, I’ll study at my stepgrandmother’s house.”

“You can come to dinner,” Rina said.

“That’s okay. Nina’s not home and it’ll be quiet.”

“Where is she?”

“Staycationing in Rhodes at her villa.”

“Lucky her,” Decker said. “And you have the key to her Park Avenue apartment?”

“I have many keys, boss.” He grinned. “And a few have even opened some doors.”

S
LAPPING ON AFTERSHAVE,
Decker realized that he hadn’t changed his look for fifty years. But this year he had hit it right because mustaches, especially thick ones like his, had come back in style. Everything cycled. All you had to do was stick around long enough.

McAdams and Rina were already at the dining room table, drinking coffee and nibbling whole wheat toast. Rina was reading the paper while McAdams had his nose in a book. She looked up when Decker came in. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Decker went into the kitchen, poured himself a big mug of steaming coffee, and sat down at the table. He took a slice of toast. “How are you?”

“I’m great. We’re having company for Shabbat tonight. Five students and you’ve met all of them. Tomorrow it’ll just be us.”

“Which students?”

“Hannah, Ben, Jennette, Mike, and Lenny.”

“A congenial group. I look forward to it.”

“Am I invited?” McAdams asked.

“You are if you behave yourself.” Decker checked his phone messages. “Still nothing regarding Belfort’s computer. You’d think they could have hacked into it by now.”

“Maybe Belfort had everything encrypted and then encrypted again. She
is
a math professor.” McAdams put down his book. “Lennaeus Tolvard said he can meet us today at eight at his office. I left him a message that we’ll be there.”

“Is that eight in the morning?”

“Hence I am up and ready.”

Decker looked at his watch. The appointment was in forty minutes, enough time to finish a cup of coffee. He took the front section of the
Wall Street Journal
. As usual, the world was a mess. It was easier for him to deal with true criminals, although one might argue that politicians and felons were one and the same. At least with the bad guys, he knew exactly where they stood. He skimmed the paper until it was time to leave, and twenty minutes later, he and McAdams were out the door, trekking through drifts with snow crunching under their feet.

It was a frigid ten-minute walk to Kneed Loft and it took another five minutes to find Tolvard’s office. His secretary was a student, probably on work-study and this was his assignment. He said, “Dr. Tolvard is expecting you, so you can go right in.”

“Thank you,” Decker said.

He and McAdams walked into the spacious office. Tolvard got up from his desk and extended his hand. “Lennaeus Tolvard. Sorry it took so long to connect.”

“No problem.” Decker shook his hand. The man was tall and thin with an aquiline nose, deep brown eyes, dark kinky hair, and mocha skin. Decker recognized the look instantly because he had seen it a thousand times on his son-in-law Koby as well as his twin grandsons, who resembled their father. The boys were lighter in skin tone and had looser curls, making them look more Israeli than Ethiopian. “Thank you for seeing us.”

“Please have a seat.” Tolvard sat back down and clasped his hands. “How can I help you? I assume it has something to do with this terrible business with Dr. Belfort.”

“We are investigating her death, yes. What can you tell us about her?”

“Nothing really. We knew each other, of course. It’s a small school, but I didn’t have much to do with her socially or academically. Just the occasional hi in the hallways, in the libraries, and at the annual Christmas party.”

“Okay.” Decker took out his notebook. “So you wouldn’t have had any occasion to call her up recently?”

“No. I don’t think I’ve ever called her, period.”

“So you were just colleagues and …”

“That’s it. Just colleagues.”

“What about her students? Are you involved academically with any of them?”

“You mean as an adviser?” Tolvard made a face. “No. I don’t even know who her students are.”

“Mallon Euler, Damodar Batra, and Ari Weissberg.”

“I know the students. Mallon was in my class in electromagnetism and wave theory, Batra and Weissberg took that class and another one … particle physics, I want to say. But they were math majors. They have to take some physics classes to meet their requirements.”

“What about Elijah Wolf,” Decker said, “did he ever take any of your classes?”

“Okay, I know where this is going.” Tolvard leaned forward. “If you want to talk about Elijah Wolf, we can talk about Elijah Wolf. His adviser was always Theo Rosser in the math department. And that’s the truth despite what you may have heard.”

“What we heard is that you were working with Eli without Dr. Rosser’s consent.”

“I did not steal Eli from Theo. I had no intention of stealing him from Theo. I know gossip said otherwise, but it wasn’t true. I thought of actually talking to Theo directly about the rumors, but then the poor kid died and it just seemed so stupid and petty.”

“So you weren’t working with Eli on the sly,” Decker said.

“It had to be on the sly because Theo wouldn’t have tolerated it otherwise. So I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I suppose I could have refused to deal with him.” Tolvard rolled his eyes. “College is a place to inspire academic curiosity, not suppress it, for God’s sake!”

“Why don’t you just start at the beginning,” Decker said. “It’s easier that way.”

Tolvard rolled his eyes. “He came to me about a year ago. He had some thoughts that coincided more with my research than with Theo’s expertise. He wanted to change advisers. He thought Theo was stifling his creativity. But I told him that because he was an upper-division student, it was too late. It wouldn’t do to take him on. Besides, I knew the flak that Theo gave Katrina when Eli first suggested a switch. I didn’t want any drama.”

A pause.

“But I didn’t want to stifle him, either. He was a brilliant boy. I told him that if he had interests that he wanted to pursue outside his thesis and he thought I could help him, I’d be happy to share what I knew. But I did tell him it was probably better to keep it between us. Of course I knew it would come out eventually. But I thought if Theo knew that I wasn’t interfering with Eli’s thesis, he wouldn’t care. Silly me.”

“What happened?”

“Well, Eli died, for one thing. Right afterward … I mean the body wasn’t even in the ground … Rosser started demanding that I give him Eli’s research. I pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about just for spite. He doesn’t believe me, of course.”

“Does he own Eli’s research or do you?” McAdams asked.

“That’s a good question. I’m not in possession of most of his papers. But I do know what he was working on.”

“Want to tell us about it?” Decker said.

“Not particularly.”

McAdams said, “The course book has you teaching two classes this year: particle physics and electromagnetism and wave theory. And your field is cosmology, right?”

“I’m assuming you’re wondering why Eli thought his interests might benefit from my expertise.”

“Eli was studying Fourier analysis and eigenvectors,” Decker said.

“Do you know what an eigenvector is?”

Decker paged through his notes. “It’s a subset of vectors that doesn’t change its direction when it’s stretched.”

“You’ve done your homework.”

“It was explained to us several times, including yesterday by a Harvard math professor,” Decker said. “Eli’s research may be relevant to both investigations. I’m not Theo Rosser. I don’t want drama, either. But we’ll both get it unless you come forward. What was Eli interested in?”

“I suppose it’s the right thing to do … to tell you.” Tolvard sighed. “Eli was mapping space junk.”

The room fell quiet. Then Decker said, “Okay, I’ll bite. What is space junk?”

“Just what it says—junk floating around in space: old satellites, spent rocket stages, and a lot of fragments from collisions and disintegration in the cosmos. The official name is disambiguation. Most of the material is very small, but that doesn’t mean it can’t cause problems with current satellites and other operable space vehicles. Even paint dust and paint flakes are dangerous if they collide with something solid at the speeds that you deal with in space.”

“How much space junk is there?” McAdams asked.

“A lot. For instance, just recently the Chinese government thought it would be fun to fire an antisatellite missile from earth at one of its old weather satellites, exploding thousands of shards in that already crowded lane, exposing the entire geostationary orbit region to Kessler syndrome. It really is a legitimate problem.”

“And my next question is …” Decker said.

“What is Kessler syndrome? It’s also called collisional cascading, which tells you what it is. Did you see the movie
Gravity
? It came out maybe four, five years ago.”