Golden in Death(72)

“You’d be wrong about that.”

“I find you very flippant, Lieutenant.”

“I find you very evasive, Headmaster. Untangling your private affairs—make that business—while you lived and worked in New York is a key component of this investigation. And when you were headmaster at Gold, there was a teacher on staff, a Jay Duran. I’m sure you remember him, as Professor Duran filed complaints against you, along with some other members of the faculty.”

Grange tapped a finger, tipped as red as her suit, against her thigh. “I remember Mr. Duran. He and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on my methods, my policies. The fact remained, I was in charge; he was not.”

“Elise Duran, Professor Duran’s wife, was killed two days after Dr. Abner, and by the same method.” Eve nodded slowly. “This isn’t news to you.”

“When the board insisted I take this meeting, I, of course, did my research. I’m sorry about Mr. Duran’s wife, and for him, for his children. But he was no more than a slight irritation from years ago. I believe he left the academy in any case, not long after I did. Perhaps he also disagreed with Dr. Rufty’s methods.”

“He got his doctorate,” Peabody said, very quietly. “He teaches at Columbia.”

“How nice for him. And still, nothing to do with me.”

“As primary investigator into these murders, I disagree. Both murders connect to the Gold Academy, and to you. Both victims were married to individuals who had issues with your methods and policies and sought to change them. Why don’t we start with your whereabouts on the dates and times in question?”

Fury sparked, stiffening Grange’s already rigid posture. “You’re insulting.”

“Oh, no, ma’am.” Peabody played the wide-eyed conciliator. “That’s not our intention. We—”

“You would come here and accuse me of murder?” Grange snapped back. “And claim you’re not insulting?”

“No one’s accusing you of anything yet.” Eve put the emphasis on the last word to draw Grange’s attention back to her. “Determining your whereabouts, corroborating same is routine. Now—”

“You will not impugn my reputation with your ridiculous routines.” She sprang up, marched to the door. Flung it open. “Teesha, pull up my calendar and tell these women where I would have been on…”

Enjoying herself now, Eve somehow survived the molten stare and reeled off the dates and times.

“Yes, Dr. Grange. On the evening of April twenty-sixth you attended a dinner party at Congresswoman Delaney’s home, with an arrival time of seven-thirty, a departure scheduled for ten-thirty. Mr. Lionel Kramer escorted you. On the evening of April twenty-seventh, you attended a performance of Swan Lake at the Kennedy Center with Mr. Gregor Finski. Curtain at eight.”

“There. Satisfied?”

“I will be when we verify that data. As our investigation leads back to the period where you and Dr. Rufty transitioned, we need the name of the staff member with whom you had an affair while serving as headmaster.”

“Teesha, I want Kyle Jenner from legal here asap.” Grange slammed the door. “How dare you?”

“It’s really easy. It’s called doing my job.”

“It’s just we were given information,” Peabody began, pulling off intimidated like a champ. “And we have to follow up.”

“Gossip isn’t information.”

“Statements given to investigating police officers aren’t gossip,” Eve corrected. “Are you going to deny you engaged in sexual relationships outside your marriage to Mr. Greenwald? Think first,” Eve warned, “as we have statements from Mr. Greenwald as well as others regarding this. It was part of Mr. Greenwald’s statement,” Eve continued, “that your marriage included a mutual agreement that either or both of you could engage in sexual relationships outside the marriage as long as you maintained discretion. Do you dispute that?”

“I do not. Why would I?” Haughty, not bothering to hide contempt, Grange took her seat again.

“A few months before you left Gold, your ex-husband received compromising photographs of you with an unknown … partner. Which shoots discretion all to hell. In addition, you were engaged in sexual activities with a teacher at Gold, inside the school, when another teacher walked in. Oops.”

“I was fending off an advance, and the incident was misinterpreted.”

“Fine. I need names.”

Now Grange sat back, sent Eve a look simmering with that contempt, and with smugness. “If you can recall the name of everyone you’ve had a sexual encounter with, I’m sorry for you.”

“If you judge your worth by the number of people who’ve banged you, I’m sorry for you. But I don’t need all the names. Start with the name of the teacher—the one you were ‘fending off.’ I’m sure you remember that name, just as you remember the name of the one who walked in.”

She let out a sigh. “It was a misunderstanding on the part of both instructors. The first who misread my interest in his work as something more personal, and the second who jumped to erroneous conclusions.”

“Names.”

“Van Pierson who taught history, middle grades. I believe he resigned shortly after I left. I’m afraid I don’t know where he went or his position or location at this time. Wyatt Yin, who was young, excitable, and problematic. I believe I heard he decided the rigors of private education weren’t for him after all, and opted to move into public education.”