Golden in Death(70)

“I’m going with NYPSD policy. We’re police officers, your headmaster has been informed of our arrival and its purpose. The East Washington Police and Security Department has been so informed. Clearly you have armed campus security, as is protocol. We do not surrender our weapons.

“If this is a problem,” Eve continued, “we can interview Headmaster Grange off campus. Say, Cop Central in New York. Detective Peabody, contact the prosecutor’s office, request a warrant.”

“If you’d wait here a moment.” Stone-faced, Mulray stepped toward the glass. It opened for her, either signaled from a device on her person or through the security guards.

“Way to get in her face right off,” Peabody said in a low voice.

“I’m betting Grange wanted to try a little power play.”

“Should I really contact Reo?”

“Hold off until we see what she does next. If she wants to screw with us, we’ll go talk to Hayward first, come back with a warrant.”

Mulray walked back through the doors, and the doors remained open. “I apologize, Lieutenant, Detective. I misunderstood Headmaster Grange’s directive. You are, of course, authorized to maintain your service weapons.”

The words, clipped as her walk, didn’t quite hide a simmering flash of temper. Grange had dumped responsibility and embarrassment on her assistant, Eve concluded.

And she bet it wasn’t the first time.

“No problem.”

Eve stepped through and into the spacious entrance hall. The founder’s gold-framed portrait greeted them. Lester Hensen sat in judge’s robes—looking, well, sober and judicious.

It didn’t smell or feel like a school, Eve realized, and indeed she saw no signs of classrooms, or students. So administration only, she thought.

No mixing.

They passed another glass wall. Behind it a number of people worked at a number of stations. There a portrait of the founder, and one of the current headmaster, graced the walls.

Eve figured it would be like being spied on by the brass.

They moved past a number of offices, doors closed, then up a wide flight of stairs.

Light poured in from skylights, through graceful windows over the blue marble floor.

Eve wanted to ask Mulray just how much her feet and legs ached after a day walking in heels on the unforgiving surface.

Grange’s dominion also rated double doors. When Mulray opened them, pale gold carpet replaced the marble. A couple of drones who’d obviously been chatting got quickly busy at their desks.

Images of the campus graced the walls, along with another portrait of the headmistress. A waiting area held two sofas, four chairs. They kept going—and Eve saw the drones give each other a quick grin behind Mulray’s back.

Through another door they entered the assistant’s office. A single desk, fully ordered, a small wall screen, a couple of visitors’ chairs, a recessed refreshment center.

Mulray used a swipe key to access the next door.

“The headmaster would like you to wait in her office,” she began. “As I said, she hopes to be with you very shortly. In the meantime, is there anything I can get you? Some coffee perhaps?”

Eve let the question hang while she looked around the office.

About triple the size of her assistant’s, it had walls done in a quiet green with a generous sitting area holding a sofa done in the same green with thin stripes that echoed the carpet. The facing chairs reversed the pattern.

On the wall, along with art of the school hung several photos of the headmistress with what Eve assumed were donors, luminaries, VIPs.

The desk with its mirror gloss angled so anyone sitting in the chair—high backed, dark gold leather—behind it had a full view of the door and the trio of graceful windows.

Mementos rather than books or work supplies on a set of floating shelves.

It had its own bath through a side door, tiled in marble with a shower and a long counter where the big-petaled lilies scenting the air sat in a crystal vase.

“Do you handle Ms. Grange’s travel?”

“Dr. Grange,” Mulray corrected. “Her professional travel, yes.”

“Any recent trips to New York?”

“I— None that I recall.”

“I’m going to need you to check on that. How long have you been Dr. Grange’s assistant?”

“I wasn’t aware you intended to interview me.”

Eve just stared through her. “Do you need time to come up with the answer?”

“Five years.” Mulray snapped it like a salute.

“You weren’t assistant to the headmaster when she came to Lester Hensen?”

“I took the position in August of 2056, after my predecessor retired.”

“Were you already on staff?”

“I was, as administrative assistant to the dean of students. I’ve been a part of Lester Hensen for nine years.”

“Then you were here when Stephen Whitt was a student. He would have graduated in ’53.”

“We have between nine hundred and nine hundred and twenty students in this school every year. I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly remember every one of them.”

“Even the son of a major donor?” Eve walked over to a framed photo on the walls. “That’s daddy right there.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help you.”