Kindred in Death (In Death #29)(48)

“Not yet.”

When he continued on, Eve simply sat on the steps. She’d take her moment there.

Before she could take the moment, her ’link beeped. “Dallas.”

“Lieutenant Dallas, this is Dr. Lapkoff of Columbia University. I spoke with you and your husband last night.”

“That’s right.”

“I’d appreciate a few moments of your time today, regarding this matter.”

“This matter is a homicide investigation.”

“I’m aware.” Lapkoff’s face remained cool and set. “As portions of that investigation cross my milieu, I’d like to discuss it. This institution will cooperate with you as much as possible. I would appreciate the same from you and your department.”

“Are you on campus now?”

“I am.”

“Twenty minutes,” Eve said and clicked off.

She took out her communicator to contact Peabody. “Status?”

“More of those shoes have been sold in the past six months than you’d think. I’m concentrating on New York venues and online sources.”

“Keep at it then. I’m going to meet with the president of Columbia, then with Mira. After, we’re going to check out a couple of possibles. I’ll swing back and get you, or tell you where to meet me.”

She clicked off, contacted Mira’s admin. “I need the doctor to meet me rather than come into her office. I’m going to be in the field.”

“Dr. Mira is—”

“An essential member of this investigative team. The commander has given this investigation top priority. I need her to meet me at the building housing the offices of the president of Columbia University in an hour.”

“She can’t make it in an hour. Ninety minutes.”

“Ninety minutes,” Eve confirmed.

She drove to Morningside Heights, and to the beauty and the age, the dignity of Columbia. She parked as close as she could manage to Administration, ordered her On Duty light and security on.

Any campus dick who tried to cite it or move it would be shut down, quick and fast.

Summer students lolled on the greens, sat near the fountains or strolled along the paths from building to building. Ages ranged from shy of twenty to nearing the century mark. Some of those older were staff, she assumed, but some would be students as well. Furthering their education, going for advanced degrees, taking a short course like a hobby.

Dress also ranged, she noted, from slick suits to maxicargos, jeans to microskirts. Plenty of ball caps, plenty of University tees and sweats.

The UNSUB could have blended here so easily, on a campus that sprawled and spread with dignified greens and stately old buildings. Like Central Park, she thought, it was a world within a world where a strange face wouldn’t cause a single lifted eyebrow. Particularly if he looked as if he belonged.

Know where you’re going and go there. Sit on the grass or a bench and take in the air, or do a little outdoor studying.

Observing. He’d have observed, even as she was now. The look, the rhythm, the feel.

She made her way into Administration, offered her badge for scanning. “I have an appointment with Dr. Lapkoff.”

The guard nodded, read the scan. “She put you on the log, cleared you through.”

He shifted, gave her quick, concise directions to the office of the president.

Rarified, Eve thought as she took the stairs. The air, the architecture. The Urban Wars had missed defiling or destroying most of the older buildings here. She imagined there were contemporary touches—cams, security, alarms, animated guides. But they’d tucked them away, out of view so the ambiance was age and tradition.

Before she’d reached the offices, a man of about thirty in one of those slick suits crossed the wide marble floor and waylaid her.

“Lieutenant Dallas?” His smile was as slick as his suit, his accent faintly, very faintly, Italian. “I’m Dr. Lapkoff’s administrative assistant. She’d like me to bring you right in.”

Good-looking guy, she noted, but he’d never pass for nineteen again. And his mocha skin couldn’t be mistaken for white. Too bad, the admin of the president would’ve been an excellent possibility.

“How many people work in this building, administratively?”

“In the summer?”

“No, fall through spring.”

“I can certainly get you that information. Dr. Lapkoff has an administrative assistant, an executive secretary, and a personal assistant. Each of us also has an assistant. Then, of course, there’s the provost and his staff, the vice presidents and theirs. Right this way.”

He led her through a reception area and straight into the president’s domain.

She’d thought it would be more posh and intimidating. Instead, despite its grand scale and dignified antiques, it looked like the office of a very busy woman. It boasted an excellent view of the campus and a stingy seating area comprised of worn furniture and upholstery faded by time and sun.

Still, the wall of photographs and degrees could project the intimidating. As could the woman who rose from behind a big, cluttered desk.

Her height and build earned her the term statuesque, and the strong features vied for dominance with the laser blue eyes.

Eve imagined that piercing look had given recalcitrant students, faculty, and donors alike a good chill.