Bloody Genius (Virgil Flowers, #12)(77)

Virgil and Trane started pushing Cohen. She and Quill had made three separate trips to the library, all in the middle of the night. “An adventure,” she said, which Quill seemed to enjoy. “I wasn’t all that big on it because that yoga mat wasn’t thick enough and it hurt my back and ass,” she added.

Quill paid her five hundred dollars per trip.

They’d met on Tinder, first hooking up in Dinkytown. She knew he was well-off because of the car, but she hadn’t known his real name. She’d asked, and he told her it was Alex Nolan. She’d later tried to look him up on the internet, and while she’d found lots of Alex Nolans, none of them seemed to be the man she was having sex with. She hadn’t learned his real name until she’d seen a TV news story about his murder.

“So you did know about it,” Trane said. “In your apartment you told us—”

“She may have misspoken,” Hardy said. “Hardly a major issue.”

Cohen admitted that she knew that Quill must have been the man who’d taken her to the library, but said she was afraid to talk to the police. “I didn’t see how anything good could come from that. I mean, I didn’t know anything. And, you know, with my job and all, I’d be an easy one to pin it on.”

They took her through a second-by-second recital of their approach to the library. They’d met at a bar in Dinkytown, had walked across the campus, then across the footbridge, past a couple of dormitories, scouting the Wilson Library for lights.

“We saw some kids outside the dorms, around the dorms, but there was never anybody around that library. I mean, this was midnight,” she said. “The first two times, it was even later—like, one o’clock.”

Quill had a key. They entered the library, listened for sounds, heard none, then Quill took her hand and led her up a flight of steps to the second floor. His carrel was behind some high book stacks, and as they got close, they saw a light.

“I think it was an iPhone light. Alex—I mean, Dr. Quill—was holding my hand going up the stairs, but then we saw the light.”

Quill dropped her hand and whispered for her to stay where she was. She didn’t. She hid behind one of the tall bookshelves on the other side of the aisle from the shelves near the carrel. She heard Quill say something but wasn’t sure exactly what it was but thought he said he was calling the police. “I think I heard that word ‘police.’”

“Do you think they just ran into each other? Or was the killer waiting for Dr. Quill?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She squinted at the ceiling. “You know, why would he have the light on if he was trying to sneak? I think maybe it was an accident, that they ran into each other.”

Virgil: “Do you think the person, whoever it was, was already in the carrel when you got there?”

“Oh, yeah, I think so. Something else, you know, that I just thought of: I think Dr. Quill knew the person. Recognized him. I don’t know what he said, but the tone of his voice, it was like he knew him.”

“Maybe somebody from his lab?” Trane suggested.

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure about it. But when I think back, I think he recognized him. Knew him.”

She heard the struggle, heard the door close, thought she heard keys, but remained huddled behind the shelves where she thought she wasn’t visible. When the light headed toward the stairs, she didn’t look at it, or the man who carried it, because she was afraid he’d see her eyes. “I kept my head down. So I never saw this other person.”

Virgil asked about drugs. “I’m not going to hassle you about it, but I need to know. Do you use coke?”

“I’ve tried it,” she admitted. “The guy buys it and wants to party, you know? I don’t buy it myself. It’s nice, but it’s expensive.”

“Did you ever give any to Quill?”

“Oh, no. He never mentioned drugs to me. You know, he was intense about the sex. He even got me off once, which never happens, but he did it because he was so into it. But as far as I know, he wasn’t into dope.”

They went over the story twice more, but nothing changed. Cohen had never been to Quill’s house, didn’t know he was a doctor. “I thought he was probably a finance guy. He acted like a finance guy. Except he didn’t fuck like a finance guy. He knew how to get it on. If you know what I mean.”

In the end, Trane said she’d go with Hardy to walk Cohen through the release procedures, which Watts had already approved. Virgil told Trane about talking to Foster and Foster’s suggestion that there must be something important on the missing laptop.

“Foster’s a smart guy, and he thinks the computer is the key, which would fit with this Boyd Nash character. When you think about it, if Nash is an industrial spy, it’d fit with the CD recording, too—an attempt at blackmail. Maybe he found out about the laptop but didn’t know Quill was . . . comforting . . . Miz Cohen.”

“‘Comforting,’” Trane repeated. “Nice.”

“You want to take Nash or should I?” Virgil asked.

“You found him, you take him. I’ll take a look at Hardy’s partner, this Jones guy. I’m interested in that whole sequence of events. Remember, Quill might not have practiced medicine, but he was an M.D. If he spotted that whole pill bottle problem—the one you spotted—and started mooting around the idea that Frank McDonald was murdered . . .”