Veil of Civility: A Black Shuck Thriller (Declan McIver Series) (26 page)

"You okay?" the girl said, as he nearly ran into her. He hadn't noticed that she'd stopped walking and turned to face him.

"Aye, sorry, I was just thinking about the people in that building the other night."

Her brown eyes suddenly looked sad. "I didn't know anyone that was there, but some of my friends did. My roommate is over at the counseling center. Her ex-boyfriend was killed in the explosion. I thought I would just keep my mind off of it by studying. I'm heading to the learning center on the third floor, but I'll show you where Dr. Coulson's office is first."

"Oh, you don't have to go out of your way like that for me. If you'll just point me in the right direction I'll wander around until I find it."

"Nope, can't do that," she said as her smile returned. "I'm duty-bound to see you there. It's the Liberty way."

"Well, I appreciate it," he said, as they continued walking and neared a set of doors leading out of DeMoss Hall. They exited the building into a rectangular courtyard filled with evergreen shrubbery and descended a flight of concrete steps.

"I think I took my hat off a little too soon," the girl said as a gust of wind blew her hair over the top of her head and she hurriedly placed the stocking cap back on. They walked past several rows of hedges towards a one story concrete block building with a sign identifying it as the
food court annex
and turned left before they reached it. At the end of a long row of shrubs next to the building they turned left again and the girl pulled open a door leading into a long hallway.

"Well, this is it," she said. "This is Dr. Coulson's office." She motioned towards a closed door on the right side of the hallway just past the entrance. The shingle on the door read;
Michael Coulson, Ph.D.

"Aye, that's grand. Thank you," Declan said, looking at the door.

"It doesn't look like anyone's here, so I hope you didn't come all the way from Ireland just for this."

"Oh no, I'll be in town for a while," he said, with a smile.

"Well, my name is Brooke," she said, as she removed a hand from her coat pocket and held it out.

"Paul," Declan lied, as he took her hand and shook it politely.

"Well, maybe I'll see you around then, Paul," she said with a smile.

He smiled back at the expectant look in her eyes. He couldn't be sure, but he was getting the impression that she wouldn't mind seeing him again. He continued smiling knowing that he was likely old enough to be her father. "Aye, I'll be around."

"Okay," she said nodding slightly as she turned to the exit. Declan slid his backpack off his shoulders and allowed it to fall to his feet. As soon as Brooke had exited the building and was out of sight, he turned and looked down the hallway. All of the twenty or so doors in the hall were closed and he couldn't hear any noises indicating that there were people present. He tried the door to Coulson's office: locked. Taking a last look through the glass door leading into the courtyard, he bent down and opened the backpack.

The fact that Coulson wasn't in his office wasn't going to deter him from trying to find the information he wanted. Maybe there was something inside, some paperwork, perhaps, that could tell him what he wanted to know. In many ways that would be ideal. If he could find what he needed without having to speak directly with anyone, then maybe nobody would ever know he'd been there. He looked up and down the hall again, this time with his eyes on the ceiling, looking for any sign of security cameras. Seeing none, he removed a fist-sized leather case and opened it, revealing a set of metal lock picks and a black pick gun. He withdrew the pick gun and closed the kit, setting it on the ground beside him as he leaned in towards the door and inserted the end of the pick gun into the keyhole. Pulling the trigger on the gun, he counted in his head until he heard an audible click. Removing the gun quickly, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open before the tumbler returned to its locked position.

Declan picked up the lock kit and his bag and retreated inside the dark office, searching for a light switch as he closed the door. Finding the switch on the wall, he turned on the light and looked around. The office was windowless and it was obvious from the number of opened boxes sitting on the floor and in the chairs that Coulson had been preparing to move to his new home on the third floor of the C.H. Barton Center. In the right hand corner of the square room was a corner desk with a computer and printer on it. On the monitor, several images of the campus flashed around the screen and Declan realized that Coulson probably hadn't been gone very long. Most screensavers were only set to a maximum of thirty minutes before the computer would enter power save mode and turn itself off.

Before touching anything, he reached into a side pocket of his backpack and pulled out a pair of black leather police gloves. Setting the backpack on the floor, he pulled on the gloves and opened a box sitting on a red upholstered chair near the door. Inside he found several plaques with various academic awards listed, and quickly closed it and moved on. In another box was a stack of binders containing test materials for the many courses that were taught in the university's government programs, and again he closed the box and moved on. Taking a seat in the leather office chair behind the desk, he swiveled back and forth, opening drawers. Inside, everything was neat and labeled, but he found nothing that told him what he wanted to know. He bumped the mouse and the computer screen came to life, revealing a desktop background picture of Michael Coulson, his wife, and what were apparently the couple's children, sitting atop a high rock overlooking a valley. He recognized the location as being the top of McAfee's Knob in Roanoke, a popular local hike that connected in several locations with the Appalachian Trail. He and Constance had hiked it many times and had similar photos at home.

The sound of someone opening the entrance door to the hallway caught his attention and he quickly stood from the seat and hit the power button on the monitor, making the screen dark. He moved over to the door and listened as someone entered, whistling. The person stopped just outside the office and Declan turned the lock to the open position and removed the gloves. Stuffing the gloves in his coat pocket, he picked up one of the boxes and moved it to the floor so he could take a seat. He watched the door intensely as the sound of a key being inserted into the hole came from outside. The sound stopped and the person trying to enter turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Declan sat with his foot casually propped up on his other leg and leaned back in the chair. "Good morning, Dr. Coulson," he said, as surprise registered in the eyes of the professor. "The door was open so I thought I'd wait inside."

Declan could tell by the look on Coulson's face that, unlike the student he had run into on his way in, Coulson had been paying attention to the news.

"The door was open?" Coulson asked suspiciously. "I could've sworn I locked it."

Declan shrugged. "Must not have, because it opened when I turned the knob."

"Hmm." Coulson stepped fully into the room, running a hand through his neatly combed brown hair as he looked around. His thick mustache twitched as he spoke. "I wasn't expecting anyone, much less you."

Declan could sense that the man was nervous. "I came to ask you a couple of quick questions and then I'll be on my way."

"Questions? About what? I've been over everything with the FBI a dozen times."

Now the professor sounded frustrated instead of nervous.

"I'm sure you have been," Declan said, trying to sound reassuring. "I just wanted to know if you knew who–"

"They're looking for you, you know?" Coulson interrupted.

Declan stopped talking as the professor withdrew a business card from inside his coat.

"One of the agents gave me this card and told me to call them if I saw you."

Declan stood and looked at the man. "Did they tell you why?"

"No. Only that they were looking to question you in connection with the—with everything. They asked if I knew you and said you hadn't been available since you left the hospital."

Declan reached for the business card. Flipping it over in his hand he read the name of Seth Castellano. "Funny thing about that, someone tried to run me off the road and kill me when I was heading home after I left the hospital."

Coulson looked up in surprise. Although he didn't speak, the words
you're serious?
were pasted on his face.

Declan nodded. "They were driving a vehicle that closely matched the type of SUV that some of the security officers had the night of the gala. That's why I came. I was hoping you knew who the security company was and could direct me to them."

Coulson stroked his mustache and chin with his hand as he took a deep breath. He seemed to be contemplating his next words carefully. He shook his head as he spoke. "We have our own police department here and they usually take care of any and all of the university's security needs. If we're expecting a big crowd for an event, for example, then our department hires off-duty police officers from the city for extra manpower."

"The guys the other night looked more like a private firm, not off-duty officers."

Coulson shook his head again. "I don't know who they were. I didn't plan the event. That was handled by our scheduling department. They coordinate all campus events."

"Can you call them and find out?"

Coulson brushed a hand through his hair again. "I don't think I should. I think you need to call the agent on that card and talk to him. He's in charge of investigating this, not you."

Declan stepped closer to the professor, who continued his nervous and frustrated movements. "Look," he said, stepping to within a few inches of Coulson and allowing the obvious threat to hang in the air for a moment. "I've already spoken to Agent Castellano and he all but told me he didn't believe what I was saying. I was part of Abaddon Kafni's security detail for five years. You were with me in the Barton Center when that bomb exploded. Why would I put myself and my wife in that kind of danger if I knew what was going to happen? I followed Kafni to the home he was staying in after we evacuated him from the building and I saw his attackers carry his head out in a bag."

Coulson swallowed hard at the mental images as Declan continued.

"Since then someone has tried to run me off the road. When they succeeded, they came back to make sure I was dead and I overheard them talking about killing my wife next. Luckily, I'm not an amateur when it comes to such situations and those men and the men I found watching my house are no longer with us. The men I saw kill Kafni were Islamists, the same type of men that have been trying to take him out for over a decade, but the men who came after me were different. They were Americans, and until I find out who they are and who was running them I'm not going anywhere near Agent Castellano or anyone else involved in this investigation."

Reading into the professor's wide-eyed look, he knew he had the man on the ropes and decided to go in for the final blow.

"Now all of that, to me, adds up to a conspiracy and that means the bombing wasn't a terrorist attack and that there are other people involved. Since you opened that door and saw me you've been sweating bullets and fidgeting like a hyperactive child. Do you have something you want to get off your chest, Dr. Coulson?"

The professor broke eye contact and looked at the floor. "I'm an academic. I don't know anything about bombs or murders or any of this stuff. All I know is that two nights ago I watched a lot of my colleagues get killed or injured in that explosion and the investigation has yet to come up with any kind of an explanation as to exactly what happened and why. You want the name of the security company? Fine, I'll get it for you and then I want you out of my office."

Coulson's eyes were filled with emotion. He removed his glasses and wiped his face with a handkerchief before reaching for the telephone on his desk. He punched a button and a dial tone sounded over the speaker. After he dialed a few numbers, Declan heard a female voice pick up the line.

"Scheduling, this is Nikki."

"Nikki, this is Michael Coulson over at the Helms School of Government. I'm standing here with an investigator who has asked me the name of the security company that was used the other night and I'm afraid I can't help him. Would you know who they were?"

"Yes, sir, but I've already given that information to the investigators that came here."

"Well, I'm sure they're just trying to build as complete a picture of things as possible. We're on speaker phone, would you mind telling him again?"

"It was a company out of Moneta called Sweat Security. They were providing the security for the home Dr. Kafni was staying in as well."

"Thank you, Nikki," Coulson said, as he terminated the call. "There, Sweat Security in Moneta."

Declan softened his demeanor and looked at Coulson. "Thank you, Dr. Coulson. I'm truly sorry for your losses. Abaddon Kafni was good friend of mine. We all lost people close to us. I'm just trying not to lose anymore."