“Keep talking,” Demetrius said. Ashton turned to Peterson.
“Chief, is Adrian Mott available?”
“I think so,” Peterson said. “You want me to get him here?”
“As fast as possible, please. And Cal?”
“I’m already on it, Nick,” Ames replied. “Annnd...got it.”
“What do you have planned?” Gorski asked.
Two hours later, Aarav Singh left the provost’s office in the University’s Office Tower, and instead of heading across to the student housing building, he got in the elevator and went up to the rooftop, where a small lounge with bar gave views across the city. Only faculty, graduate students, and the occasional senior about to graduate were permitted to frequent the lounge, and Singh apparently thought he might be safe here, given it was on the Office Tower rather than the Residence Tower. He went to the bar and ordered a brew and some fries, then headed to the one empty table by himself; most of the tables already had their full complement of occupants, but he preferred a certain anonymity, under the circumstances.
He was halfway through his fries, and had ordered another beer, when an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair and hazel eyes, presumably a faculty member, came up to him with a tray containing fish and chips and a mixed drink, as well as a bottle of water and a mug of beer.
“Hello there, young man. I’m Professor Steiner. Would you mind if I joined you? The tables are full...”
“Um,” Singh began, uncertain, and the woman sat down without waiting for further confirmation.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “Between my class schedule and my appointments, I had no chance to eat lunch today, and I’m rather hungry.” She reached for her fork, then stopped and put it down. “Oh, and the bartender asked me to bring you your beer; with the crowd here today, his wait staff is terribly busy.” She picked up the beer mug and set it beside his plate of fries.
“I...see,” Singh murmured, and returned to eating his fries.
“It’s a warm day today,” Steiner declared, “especially to be sitting in the sun, like this. I do wish they would add some awnings up here. It would be much more pleasant.” She picked up her bottle of water, removed the cap, and took several swallows, then gestured to his beer. “I’m surprised you aren’t fairly chugging that.”
“Already had one,” Singh noted. “Fries are good, though.”
“You should be careful not to get dehydrated.” Steiner waved a hand. “Go on, drink. I won’t mind, just because you’re a student. I’ll work on this lovely margarita, here, and sip some water so it doesn’t dehydrate me.”
“Perhaps you would like some of my beer?”
“Oh no, I don’t care for beer, dear. You go ahead.”
Singh reached into his pocket and produced a small cylinder with a nozzle and a squeeze bulb. Steiner watched in some puzzlement as he aimed it at the mug of beer and squeezed the bulb. A puff of some dusty substance emerged, hit the surface of the beer...
...And turned it bright pink.
“Singh” jumped up, ripping off a wig to reveal a shaved head.
“ICPD!” Adrian Mott cried, as the “staff and patrons” of the lounge leaped to their feet and drew weapons. “You’re under arrest for murder!”
“What?!” Steiner exclaimed, rising to her own feet, shoving the chair back, and taking a step to the side. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m Professor Emma Steiner, and I teach VR coding!”
“There’s no such person,” a young man with golden-brown eyes and dark hair heavily streaked with blond said, stepping forward, weapon raised. “We’ve already verified. You’re Beryl Ellis, the serial killer known as the Sandman, and you’re responsible for eight deaths, one pending death, and one,” he gestured at the stein of beer, “attempted murder.”
Abruptly Beryl Ellis shoved the nearest officer aside and sprinted for the parapet, diving over it as she reached it.
“DAMN!” Ames cried, shocked. “She’d rather die than be caught?”
“She’d get to be with her husband, finally,” Demetrius said softly. “According to all the information you dug up, the two of them were deeply in love. It must have been excruciating to watch him die such an agonizing death, knowing there was nothing to be done but watch.”
“It sure wouldn’t do me any favors,” Gorski agreed. “But she’s not dead.”
“Do you know how many stories up we are?” Smith pointed out, astonished at the comment. “She’ll be a bug splat on the pavement!”
“No, she won’t,” Demetrius confirmed, “because early on, two students and a professor died that very way, after a small commencement celebration up here, and much too much to drink. So this lounge has something of a security system against inebriated professors and students falling off the side.”
He led them over to the parapet, and they peered over.
Beryl Ellis was tangled in a net, strung around the building’s perimeter, ten feet down.
Recuperation and Other TLC
That night, Cally accompanied Nick home to his apartment for the first time. Nobody at ICPD headquarters was about to let him head home alone after the events of the day, and even so, Cally suspected they had friendly shadows accompanying. Which, she considered, didn’t bother her in
