who should have had his dissertation prepared long before the last semester of his seventh year at Stratford. No. He blamed Ulman, the oaf with the knack for trouble who’d finally found a way to collapse a small corner of the world. Ulman had probably gotten killed before he could even see the damage.
But it had been Kinnard himself who’d perpetuated the problem when he could have stashed KM-2 or given it to Masterson, who should have received the book in the first place. Porter had really been an innocent who’d gotten in the way and hung on for dear life because his was otherwise at an end. A snare yanked Alred into this.
A worse trap would snatch both students into judicial oblivion, while Kinnard himself pulled the lever.
What other choices were there? Suicide? Who wanted this codex and all its relations buried anyway? Would they kill Kinnard if he explained…what really had occurred? Would the University oust him since he did not stand with his fellow academics? Would the papers be involved in this? What about his family; what would they wonder as they read,
DR. TROY KINNARD OF STRATFORD UNIVERSITY DEFENDS MORMON THIEF, THUS LOSES TENURE!
“We need to know the truth,” Comer said through the fog of Kinnard’s thoughts. “First…who is Peter Arnott?”
Pause. “I don’t know.”
“Well, we’ll get back to him in a moment. Tell me, did Erma Alred return KM-2 to Stratford University on thirty April?”
The cue. Kinnard’s lines had already been well-rehearsed before stepping into the courtroom. There wasn’t a trial going on, but a play! Kinnard had never auditioned, but had a part so vital that the director, Peter Arnott, stood with his arms folded and his face gray in the back of the brown room right where the professor could see him best.
Kinnard looked at the great double doors with armed officers standing like cast iron ushers and couldn’t push away the feeling that he was on trial and not John Porter. Would Kinnard make it through those doors after his testimony? How far, before he was stabbed in the back, shot with poison darts, or No, they would get him later. Blow up his car? Too dramatic. Poison his orange juice tomorrow morning? They wouldn’t spend the money. Their revenge would be worse than death. Kinnard would lose credibility, watch his job fall away. Perhaps they’d even find a way to revoke his credentials…
“Dr. Kinnard?’ said Comer.
Looking into the Prosecuting Attorney’s caffeine-charged eyes, Kinnard opened his mouth a crack and drew in the warm air of the courtroom. He tasted the scent of the leather chair beneath him as he shifted his weight. He folded his fingers together on his lap and squared his shoulders. His chin lifted and fell, eyes jumping to Masterson’s cold gaze, back to Arnott who never moved, both young gargoyles carved out of flesh. Closing his eyes, Kinnard heard the squeak of Judge Panofsky’s bottom against his seat.
Comer didn’t restate the question or call the professor’s name a second time. For only a flashing moment, Kinnard saw in the attorney’s eyes the minute concern that Kinnard was about to overthrow the entire point the Prosecution pushed for: that the meeting mentioned by Porter and Alred had never occurred. The insinuation could also then be deduced that Alred was as guilty as Porter, at least in her attempt to lie in a Federal court of law.
Leaning into the microphone, Kinnard said, “I…I can’t answer the question at this time.”
“Answer the question,” said Judge Panofsky.
Kinnard kept his mouth near the microphone as he turned his face to the judge. “I’ll have to utilize the fifth amendment.”
The courtroom rumbled, and Comer laughed lightly at the professor as if Kinnard didn’t know how real courts ran beyond the boundary of the media.
Kinnard looked at Masterson, whose eyes darkened into shady pits.
Arnott lifted his body from the far wall and headed to the door as if he were only going to the bathroom.
Kinnard felt the skin on his face cool, all the moisture evaporating suddenly.
The double doors shut again, and the professor imagined Arnott, the devious shadow posing as a professor and who knew what else, walking away from the courtroom, a cellular in his hand raised to his head. It was an unspoken eulogy of sorts, but only a dream at the same time. Arnott signed the papers verbally. For what? It didn’t matter. Kinnard’s simple insistence to say nothing told the world that more was happening than Comer suspected. That was bad enough.
At the same time, Kinnard heard Comer say, “No further questions, then. But stick around professor, I may have something else in the near future.”
Before standing, Kinnard realized that he himself might be implicated in this crime. After all, who gave Porter KM-2? Who first received it illegally? The codex never came from Stratford University, but from Ulman to Kinnard in clearly illicit fashion. Mailmen smuggled Ulman’s prize unwittingly and handed it right to Kinnard, who said nothing about the transaction until after passing the object on to the man on trial today. What if Kinnard did so with full realization and intention of sneaking the manuscript around in order to bring it forth properly at a later date and be one with Porter as the discoverer of this rare and magnificent, world-changing codex. Motive: fame and money. And Kinnard wouldn’t have had to do the dirty work. And if anyone was arrested, Porter could play scapegoat.
If Arnott used this ploy, Kinnard would have few defensive possibilities.
He lowered his mouth to the microphone again. “There were many meetings in which I sat and discussed Porter’s Kalpa Codex with Masterson and the others.”
The rumble of the room turned to a hush as Comer froze with his back to the witness. He turned around. “I’m sorry?” said the Prosecuting Attorney before managing his thoughts. With licked lips, he said, “Dr. Kinnard, did Alred return the manuscript as mentioned, or are you telling us something irrelevant to this case. I said I had no more quest-”
“Alred gave it back,” said Kinnard. “I was there. So was Masterson, though he says otherwise. And Dr. Goldstien sat right next to me. Arnott…I don’t know who he is, but he doesn’t teach at Stratford. Masterson introduced him to the students as a professor working there with us.”
Comer looked for only a few seconds into Kinnard’s eyes.
What could Kinnard lose now? They would no doubt attempt to entomb him with the scenario he’d already predicted. It was Kinnard’s words against his colleagues’, and Kinnard would end up looking as dirty as the two graduate students. But it didn’t matter. He knew his account was accurate.
Kinnard’s eyes moved to Porter, who looked at his supervising professor through tears…or was it just the lighting…
Comer turned his focus on the judge. “I said I had no further questions.” He turned away.
Sowerby stood and approached the witness stand with a pale grin.
The facts of Kinnard’s testimony meant little now. Everyone knew where he stood. Kinnard wouldn’t waver anymore.
May 7
10:14 a.m. PST
“Ms. Alred,” said Comer, smiling at the ground. “You insinuated on the fifth that Stratford University recalled KM-2 because-possibly! — of the deaths of persons involved with the discovery. Do you honestly believe Porter’s life was really ever in danger?”
Alred tightened her eyes on the Prosecuting Attorney. She had yet to figure out the man’s new ploy. Whether or not that actual meeting happened, wherein she gave KM-2 to Masterson, who then passed it on to Arnott before her eyes, was irrelevant. Comer, as a representative of the government had a job to do. Porter had to be found guilty of the charges brought before him. They had already long discussed the Egyptian figurines found in Porter’s car. It was a settled issue, one which Porter himself would not deny to be factual, as he hadn’t been in contact with his automobile since he was chased from the library. No one could prove, however, that Porter stole the artifacts from Stratford or even Mrs. Ulman, who had been subpoenaed, but never came to court. But even Porter would not dispute that the figurines were found in his automobile. So where was Comer going with this question?
“I believe there are people who are willing to kill for the codex,” said Alred. Of course, after seeing Ulman die in a parking lot and then being attacked by two men herself, her words were understatements that were necessary at present. She wouldn’t risk exposing that she currently possessed KM-3 by noting those traumatic instances.
“Murder…for religious purposes?” said Comer, tilting his head.
Alred leaned her head back. Grimacing inside, she cursed all religions. Nothing came with more disfavor to
