friendship with her brother. Hans had helped reinstate Kate to the FBI after she’d gone rogue, had worked with Lucy’s other sister-in-law years ago, and had given Lucy a glowing recommendation into the FBI. The Kincaids considered Hans part of the family.
Hans wasn’t one for chitchat; he came straight to the point. “Tell me what you were working on for Agent Presidio.”
Lucy said, “I’m truly sorry about his death. You were friends.”
Hans stared over her shoulder, his eyes unfocused. “Yes,” he said quietly. Then he shook his head and looked directly at her. “I’m clearing up Tony’s files and taking over his classes, until we find someone to replace him. I’ve taught here before, so there shouldn’t be any disruption. Any help you can give smoothing things over with your class would help.”
“Anything you need.”
“I talked to Agent Madeaux last night about Tony’s work on the Weber case. I don’t know that I’ll be getting involved, but Tony left a message for me yesterday before he boarded the plane. I didn’t get it until after he died.”
Hans continued, “Agent Madeaux said you were helping Tony. How so?”
“Before he went to New York, he gave me his file on the McMahon case because we’d been talking about it and Rosemary Weber and whether her death could have had something to do with the Cinderella Strangler investigation.”
“You lost me.”
“I’ll backtrack.” Lucy relayed the information as if she were giving a report. She explained to Hans about Suzanne contacting her Wednesday morning, discussing Weber’s murder with Tony, and the work she’d been doing reviewing the McMahon file and the analysis of Weber’s books while Tony was in New York. “Tony thought it was suspicious that Weber’s notes from her first book were missing from the library archives.”
“He suspected her murder had something to do with the McMahon case, and not the book she was currently researching?”
“Yes, I’m certain of it, though he didn’t explicitly say that. He said something was bugging him and he wanted to look as his notes again. So I agreed to meet him in his office. When I got here, he was unconscious.”
“Where is his file? Did you bring it?”
“I had it with me last night.” She glanced around the office, but it was much messier than yesterday. She gestured to the table just inside the door. “When I saw him, I dropped the file on that table but it’s not there now. It’s a file folder about an inch thick.”
“I’ll find it.”
Lucy frowned and looked around the office. “It should be here.”
“Lucy, it’s okay.”
“I need to find it, sir.”
Hans smiled. “You can call me Hans when we’re alone. No need to be formal.”
“It’s important. I think someone was in my dorm room today.”
“Someone broke in?” Hans raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t know. But I made some personal notes about the McMahon case, and I kept them in my desk. I’m almost certain that’s where I put them, but maybe I grabbed them when I picked up Tony’s file.”
He eyed her closely. “But you don’t think so.”
She shook her head. “I remember everything clearly from the minute I found him, but I can’t remember if I picked up my notes. He’d asked for something specific-he wanted a list of every person Weber wrote about, and what she said about them.”
“Because he thought someone might have a motive, even ten years later.”
“Yes. So I typed up my notes. I included those in his folder, not my handwritten notes.” The more Lucy thought about the series of events, the more certain she was that she’d left her written notes in her desk.
“Tony over-involved himself on too many of his cases, particularly cases involving young children, sometimes to the point of obsession. It’s one reason he was here-he’s brilliant, but…” His voice trailed off.
“I didn’t think he acted obsessed, just contemplative. Curious.”
“You didn’t know him like I did,” Hans said, his voice switching from friendly to authoritarian.
Lucy wondered if she should mention Tony’s interest in Peter McMahon, decided yes. “Tony asked me to find Peter McMahon, Rachel’s younger brother. I don’t think he believed that Peter was responsible for Weber’s murder, but…” She hesitated.
Hans wrote something down. “He thought it might have been a possibility?”
“I got the sense that he was simply concerned about Peter himself. With the media reports on Weber’s death, it might drag up old feelings about his past.”
“That’s stretching. More likely, Tony thought the boy may have grown up with deep resentment. He was a child when his sister was killed, a teenager when Weber’s book came out. Now he’s an adult. He could have been planning revenge for a long time.”
It was definitely possible. She said, “I asked Sean to look for him, find out where he lived and what he was doing. We knew he had been living in Florida with his grandmother, and may have taken her surname. Sean was able to trace him to Syracuse University, but lost him there. He seems to have disappeared.”
“No one disappears.”
“That’s pretty much what Sean said.”
Hans leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “Tony’s instincts are sharp, but like a lot of psychologists, sometimes he knows or senses things that he can’t quite articulate. Gut instinct. Do you think McMahon was involved in Weber’s murder?”
Lucy hesitated, then said, “Sean brought it up as a possibility. But I couldn’t possibly make that determination without knowing more about Peter McMahon.”
“Can you re-create your notes?”
“Yes.”
“E-mail me the file when you’re done.” He smiled sadly. “Get some sleep, Lucy. It’s been a long twenty-four hours.”
“How did Tony die? Heart attack?”
“That’s the preliminary diagnosis. He’d had elevated blood pressure for years, but was controlling it primarily through diet and exercise and a very mild drug, according to his doctor.”
“Please let me know. If I did anything wrong when I found him-”
“You did everything you could. Go; have dinner; rest. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
After Lucy left, Hans considered what she’d said and, knowing Tony, what he might have been thinking or working on before he died. Hans had told her about Tony’s instincts, but his own were humming right along. He immediately began looking around the office for the McMahon file Lucy had left here yesterday.
“Tony, what were you thinking?” Tony was brilliant, but he rarely brainstormed with his colleagues. He mulled thoughts and ideas in his head until they came together; then when he spoke he was almost always right. Knowing what he might be thinking was nearly impossible.
But Hans had known Tony for twenty-five years. Hans knew how he reasoned out a case. His notes would help, but Hans searched everywhere and didn’t find the McMahon file.
Lucy thought someone had stolen her notes from her room. And it appeared someone had taken Tony’s files from his office.
Hans stared at Tony’s personal effects, which he’d already boxed up to bring to Tony’s widow, Shannon. The box included a Glenlivit bottle that was only a quarter filled. Tony wasn’t a heavy drinker, but he liked his shot of Scotch at night. When they worked together two decades ago, they’d often shared a Scotch after hours.
The bottle had been on his desk, an empty glass nearby.
Hans didn’t think that there was any foul play in Tony’s death.
He opened the bottle, and all he could smell was Scotch. He closed it and called the FBI Laboratory. The head of toxicology, Dr. Trisha Morrison, was a longtime colleague and friend.
“Hans, it’s been a while.”
