“Aye,” he said hesitantly.
I sighed. “Can we sit down a minute, Conn? We can move over to the other side where we might not be seen if someone opens the door.”
Though there wasn’t a lot of space on the roof, the HVAC unit gave us some cover as we moved over to the other side and sat on the ledge, legs inward. The view of the campus was too pretty not to notice, but it wasn’t the foremost thing on my mind as I peered over the side, relieved to find a subroof a few feet below. I suspected that Conn’s plan to escape had included hiding on it. Dangerous, but apparently worth it, in his mind at least. We sat in a line; me, Conn, and then Elias, who leaned more than sat, obviously tense and ready to intervene in whatever way might be required.
“Does Boris know you’re here?” I asked.
Conn shrugged. I took that as a negative. It wasn’t fair to peg Conn’s personality based solely upon what I’d heard about him, but I suspected that he was doing his brother’s dirty work, based solely upon Conn’s determination of what that dirty work should be. Though I hadn’t met Boris Clacher either, the covert operation was not something I would have thought someone in the medical school’s administration would approve of.
“Why do you think Dr. Eban killed your niece?” I asked.
“He’s a wicked sort of a man. Manipulative, cruel.”
This sort of thing kept happening—people saying bad things about him. I thought he was a little odd, but not murderous. I’d seen Sophie and Rena hanging out with him at the church. I’d heard about his past affiliation with Dr. Glenn. Nothing seemed to jibe all the way. I needed much more information.
“How was he cruel to Mallory?” I asked.
“He had her do unsavory things for her grades.”
I was pretty sure that’s what he was going to say. “What? Can you tell me specifically?”
“Lass, they’re not things I would say tae a lady,” Conn said.
“Pretend I’m not one,” I said impatiently. More than once I’d been told I’d approached something from an American point of view that just wasn’t the same thing in the Scottish world. Maybe I didn’t understand the culture.
And sure enough, Elias huffed.
Conn thought a moment as he scratched at his beard. “Things done in the bedroom.”
Maybe I did understand. Still. “I mean this like I’ve never meant anything else before, Mr. Clacher. Tell me specifically the things that Mallory said. The specific things.”
Again, he thought as he scratched at the beard and then rubbed under his nose.
“She didn’t tell me specifics,” he finally said. “She didn’t tell her father specifics either. She just said he pushed her to do things.”
“‘Do things.’ Those were her words? Did she ever say what that was? Or if it included specific sexual acts?”
“No, lass!”
“Then how do you know that’s what happened?”
“Because she wouldn’t say! I think that’s clue enough. She wasn’t a liar, she was just modest.”
Or she was a willing participant and didn’t want to look like one. However, there was a certain general truth to what he was saying. Mallory was in her late twenties at least, but some people of any age would be embarrassed to talk about such things, maybe more so in Scotland. My parents were ultraconservative farm folks. If someone had taken advantage of me in such a way, would I have told them the specifics?
It was hard to know for sure. It was impossible to know what went on in someone else’s life.
“She would have told someone what happened. If not the police—and I can see why that would scare her—a friend, or a relative,” I said as I thought through what I would do. “Who was her closest female relative, or perhaps a good friend?”
“Her mother, I suppose, but her mother knows as much as Boris and I do.”
“A friend?”
“I don’t know her friends.”
“Has Boris told the police these things?” I said. “Why are you here instead of talking to the police?”
“We did go tae the police. They weren’t interested in our interpretations either. But Boris knows his daughter. He understood what she’d tried to communicate to him.”
“He did. Are you sure?” I said.
“Aye,” Conn said hesitantly.
“Conn, if I promise not to do anything to contribute to your being arrested for anything, will you tell me the truth? Does Boris feel the same way you do about this?”
Conn looked at me a long time. “Lass, how would I really know? He’s devastated, that’s what I know. He brought up Mallory’s … issues tae me not too long ago. I know my brother. I’m sure he feels the same way.”
“But he didn’t come out and say that to you?”
Conn didn’t answer.
“What did ye think ye would accomplish in that classroom?” Elias asked, his anger still evident.
“I wanted tae rattle him.”
“Ye rattled everyone. Did ye not think of that? Ye were a nuisance and ye scared people, innocent people. Ye disrupted important learning!”
“I don’t care.”
Elias grumbled.
“Think about it,” Conn said. “Would you care what ye had tae do if it meant justice for a loved one?”
“I wouldnae disrupt a bunch of innocent people, but I would find a way tae talk tae the wee man on my own,” Elias said.
There would be more than talking during that conversation.
“Well. That’s you, and it sounds more violent than what I did. I just scared people, got them all talking maybe. That was the plan.”
It wasn’t the worst plan—though I got where Elias was coming from—but it had been poorly executed.
“Look, she had to have told someone what was going on,” I jumped in. “Did you or her father spend any time talking to the women who live in the same building she did?”
Conn shook his head. “You have tae understand that Boris can’t do that sort of thing. He has a position here. And, frankly, think about it, we’re older men, and though I didn’t mind
