“Could you please tell me what happened?”
Griffin gave him the general outline, but no more than he needed to know. “Dr. Hayman, I understand my sister had a bit too much to drink at your brother’s party last night. Something to do with your special margaritas?”
Dr. Hayman nodded toward Delsey. “If that had anything to do with what happened to you, I am very sorry.” He smiled down at her. “The party gave me an opportunity to speak to you, since there is so little opportunity at school. But then you quite disappeared and no one knew where you were. What happened?”
“I decided to go home, Dr. Hayman, and someone hit me on the head in my apartment.”
Dr. Hayman waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.
Griffin said, “Sir, have you noticed anyone recently who didn’t seem to belong on campus? Someone you found not quite right?”
Dr. Hayman seemed to give this thought, stroking his chin with his beautiful long, thin fingers. “I’m sorry, but no. I am quite busy in my position, Agent Hammersmith. There is so much to do each day, so many students demanding my attention, not to mention the faculty and the board of directors. It sometimes seems a whirlwind, and I see so many people. It’s rare that I’m able to simply enjoy the company of a student as I did last night. But then you were gone, Delsey, simply gone, and I must say, I was a bit worried.” He gave her a warm smile.
“They tell me I will be fine, probably back to school in a couple of days. Please don’t worry about me. Thank you for coming to see me.”
“It is my responsibility to worry about my students,” he said, but gave Delsey a warmer smile than Griffin thought was necessary or appropriate. “Such a shock, someone in your apartment, striking you down. I certainly hope our law enforcement officers will get to the bottom of this quickly and put an end to it. We cannot have such things happening to our students; the board will not stand for it.” He added to Griffin, “I am glad you’re here to help them, Agent Hammersmith.”
Griffin nodded.
Dr. Hayman said to Delsey, “You will call me if there is anything you require? And you, Agent Hammersmith? If there is anything we can do to sort this all out, we are at your service.”
Griffin followed Dr. Hayman out of Delsey’s hospital room, impressed with how well he wore the mantle of director of Stanislaus, like a well-picked actor from central casting. Unlike his brother, Dr. Hayman was one to quiet troubled waters, not stir them up.
There was nothing Griffin liked better than to stir troubled waters. He said without preamble, “Why are you so interested in my sister, Dr. Hayman?”
Dr. Hayman said, “I am interested in all my students, Agent Hammersmith. Delsey reminds me of your incredible grandmother Aladonna Hammersmith. She was an immensely talented woman, both witty and charming. I can still remember her incomparable voice, her artistry. I consider it a privilege to mentor her granddaughter and perhaps change her mind about continuing in a commercial direction with her compositions. She should be developing her talent to create something lasting with her music.”
“Thank you for those nice words about my grandmother, Dr. Hayman. As for Delsey, she has never been at a loss about what direction to take her life. I met your brother this morning. Why is it you invited him here as a visiting professor?”
Dr. Hayman blinked, taken off guard for a moment, but clearly understanding why Griffin was asking. “Rafael is a fine musician, and, more important, he has the ability and the temperament to teach, which many talented musicians do not. He was more than qualified to join the Stanislaus faculty.” He looked back at Griffin as if daring him to express an opinion.
“I wish you a good day, Agent Hammersmith, and hope you will solve this nasty business. If you would be so kind as to keep me informed? And of Delsey’s progress as well.”
Griffin nodded. Dr. Hayman shook his hand again, and walked away.
When Griffin returned to Delsey’s room, she said, “I remember now. I remember seeing a dead man in my bathtub.”
Savich’s house
Georgetown, Washington, D.C.
Saturday evening
Since a record snowfall had brought Washington to a standstill, Savich Skyped his agents and Mr. Maitland from home. He looked at each of them arrayed in front of him on MAX’s new twenty-three-inch monitor. He could see Mr. Maitland’s wife moving around in the background, carrying what looked like a huge bowl of guacamole and chips for her four sons, whose eyes were probably fixed on the play-off game the agents were missing. In smaller boxes were the faces of agents Ollie Hamish, Lucy Carlyle, and Coop McKnight. Ollie rocked his infant daughter in his arms.