Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar by Gray Cavender (red scrolls of magic TXT) 📗

“Now, check-out these photos, Wes. They’re from forensics.” She enlarged two photos.

“This is obviously from her English office…see, the coat tree is knocked over. And, Professor Siemens’ jacket is still hanging on a hook, even though the coat tree is on the floor. Her jacket is NOT on that empty coat hanger, or even near it.” She pointed to the screen with the tip of her pen.

Wes shifted in his chair to get a closer look at the screen. “OK.”

“Now compare that one with a photo from her Business office.” She scrolled to that photo. “Here, the coat tree is upright, of course, and her garment is hanging from a coat hanger on that tree. It’s just her windbreaker, but it’s still on a hanger.” She pointed with her pen again.

She looked away from the screen and said, “I don’t remember but I’ll bet that Professor Roberts hangs his jacket on a coat tree hook.”

“He didn’t notice that the jacket he’d relocated over to English had been on a hanger. He just stuck it on a hook…must be a guy thing,” Wes laughed.

He paused, then said, “And the tunnel…how you’d fall to that, Jilly?”

“Luck,” she said and shook her head. “It never occurred to me. I mean, I knew that ASU’s been doing the asbestos abatement project in them…you even talked about the tunnels in your story about being down there when Obama was here…remember…when we were riding over to her BAC office.”

Wes nodded.

“And, I’ve been reading about this for weeks…gates open…sensors off. It’s all been in office memos, but it did not sink in until I saw two construction workers over on College near my place. One guy was in that water main trench up to his chest.”

“At least something good came from all that construction mess.”

Jillian nodded, then said, “And a light just went on. Then, I remembered an update that I’d read…a warning actually…to be watchful. Last night, an ASU student jumped down into a caved-in tunnel and broke her ankle. OK, so the cave-in is unrelated—I think there have been a couple of them—but still…it made me think about the tunnels. They’re open, and unmonitored.”

After a few seconds, Wes asked, “So, your best guess…how’d this go down?”

“He killed her in Business and transported her over to English. Along with her jacket and the murder weapon…through the tunnels…like you said, to throw us off. Remember when we were with him in her Business office?”

“That’s right. He said he was uncomfortable being there and got us to relocate to his office for the rest of the interview. And he was surprised when I said forensics was coming to her Business office, too. Remember that?”

“Yes, I’ll bet he was freaking out.”

“I imagine so.” Wes thought to himself, then said, “OK, Jilly, two whys…. First, why’d Roberts do it? Why’d he kill her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe jealousy.”

He nodded. “Old as time. I guess that squares with your idea about Professor Siemens, Ayn Rand, and monogamy.”

“That’s what I think, Wes.”

“You’re probably right. Maybe he knew or suspected that she was trying to get something started with President Davidos, and it pissed him off.”

“Whatever motivated him, it generated a lot of violence. Remember, she was struck several times…including when she was already down.”

“Yeah.” He was quiet again. Then, he said, “When you’re dealing with a murder where the killer and the victim are connected, I think a lot of times…love is maybe a more powerful motivation than hate. In this case, maybe idealized love on Roberts’ part…love that didn’t exist, not really. At least not on her part.”

He was quiet again. “And when that love turned to anger…” He shook his head.

Jillian scrolled through a file and pulled-up one of Angel’s photos of Professor Siemens. The photo was shot from the far wall, so it showed her entire body.”

They starred at the screen in silence. Finally, Wes broke the spell. He glanced from the IPAD back to Jillian. “OK, a second ‘why.’ Why did Professor Roberts run when he saw you?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe he just panicked.”

“Most likely. I guess when he saw you he thought you were giving chase.”

“Well, I was,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I wonder if he’ll tell us how he got her body from Business to English. The tunnels, yes, but how? Do you think he’ll tell us anything?”

“Maybe. Probably not. Dollar to a donut, he’ll lawyer-up.”

Professor Roberts did lawyer-up. He arrived from the ER at Tempe St. Lukes Hospital about two hours later. Doc and Georgia drove him. Doc had called when they left the hospital so by the time they reached Tempe PD, Wes and Jillian greeted them in the basement garage. That’s where prisoners are brought in to Tempe PD. There are holding cells there. That’s where Professor Roberts was locked-up.

He did, indeed, have a dislocated shoulder (anterior variety) and his right arm was in a sling. He’d received a shot for pain. His lawyer, a partner in a large Phoenix firm, arrived soon thereafter.

After Wes and Jillian had finished reviewing the slideshow on her IPAD, they had spent time with Diane Ashby, the Tempe prosecuting attorney who Wes had been working with. Diane had drafted the formal warrant, so when he arrived, Professor David Roberts was booked on an array of charges. Following advice of counsel, Roberts made no statement.

There would be no hearing on bail until tomorrow morning, but Roberts’ lawyer made the case for releasing his client on his own recognizance, especially in light of his ‘medical condition,’ which, the lawyer noted, had occurred due to the assault by Sergeant Warne.

Before Jillian could answer, Wes said, “The assault. Oh, you mean when Professor Roberts tried to stab Detective Sergeant Warne and she acted in self-defense. Otherwise, we’d be booking your client on two charges of murder, not just the one.”

“Never happened,” Roberts said.

The lawyer stilled his client with his left hand and added, “This alleged assault occurred with just the two of them present, so it’s Professor Roberts’ word