Small said, “But don’t weep for me, Argentina. Sounds like you guys have been plenty busy, yourselves.”
Knock on the door. The smiling woman entered with a tray of free appetizers that she placed on the table. Milo thanked her and she left.
“That one has a crush on you,” said Marvin Small.
“The old charm,” said Milo.
Petra grinned.
Everyone trying to deal with the frustration with levity. Except Stahl, he just sat there.
Detective Small eyed the food with some anxiety. “Multicultural time. This is one culture I’ve never done, food-wise.”
“It’s not bad, Marve,” said Schlesinger. “My wife’s a vegetarian, we go to Indian restaurants a lot.” He reached for a samosa, held it up, named it. Petra and Milo and Marvin Small took food. Stahl didn’t.
The remnants of a pastrami sandwich had taken residence in my gut—Milo’s call interrupting my digestion—so I stuck with the hot spiced tea.
Stahl seemed off in another world. He’d arrived with a large white envelope, placed it in front of him. Hadn’t talked or budged since the meeting had started.
The rest of them munched as Small and Schlesinger summarized the Armand Mehrabian case. Passing around death photos to the sounds of chewing. I flipped through them quickly. The abdominal wound was a horrible gape. Shades of Baby Boy Lee and Vassily Levitch.
The outdoor dump matched Angelique Bernet and China Maranga.
Flexibility. Creativity.
I said so. They listened, made no comment. Ate some more. Went over old ground for twenty minutes. Then Milo said, “So what’s up with the Murphy family tree, Eric?”
Stahl opened the white envelope and removed a computer-printed genealogy chart. “I got this from the Internet, but it seems reliable. Erna Murphy’s father, Donald, had a brother and a sister. The brother, Edward, married a woman named Colette Branigan. Only cousin there is one daughter, Mary Margaret. Edward’s dead, Colette lives in New York, Mary Margaret’s a nun in Albuquerque.”
“There’s a hot lead for you,” said Small. “Maniacal Sister Mary.”
Stahl said, “Murphy’s sister is named Alma Trueblood. I ran into her at the rest home where Murphy’s dying. She’s got two sons from a previous marriage, one’s deceased. Her first husband’s dead, but she divorced him before he died. I found a few distant cousins but none of them are local and none are Drummonds. No connection to Kevin I can find.”
“The whole cousin thing was probably nut talk,” said Small.
“A cousin who likes art,” said Schlesinger. “So what?”
Milo reached for the chart, scanned it absently, gave a disgusted look.
I took a look.
“Who’s this?” I said, pointing.
Stahl leaned across the small table and read upside down. “Alma Trueblood’s first husband. He was a real estate agent in Temple City.”
“Alvard G. Shull,” I said. “Kevin’s faculty advisor at Charter College is a guy named A. Gordon Shull. The two sons you’ve got listed here are Bradley—deceased—and Alvard, Junior.”
“A. Gordon,” said Petra. “My first name was Alvard, I’d want to use the middle name.”
“Damn,” said Marvin Small. “This professor like art?”
“As a matter of fact,” I said.
Dead silence in the room.
I said, “Shull told me he’d grown up ‘grounded’ in art and literature and theater. He’s also got red hair.”
“Big and strong enough?” said Milo.
“Easily,” I said. “Six feet, close to two hundred. Outdoorsy. Outgoing. And not at all protective of Kevin, the way you might expect from a mentor. At first, he expressed surprise that Kevin was under suspicion of anything. But as we talked, he warmed to the subject of Kevin’s eccentricities. I remember one phrase he used: ‘Kevin wasn’t the type of kid you’d want to have a beer with.’ At the time, I didn’t make much of it, but in retrospect, it’s cruel. One of the last things he told me was Kevin was a lousy writer.”
“Oh, boy,” said Petra.
Milo rubbed his face.
“Something else,” I said. “When I first talked to Shull’s department head about Kevin, she put on a full-force stonewall. Cited academic freedom, confidentiality. Exactly what you’d expect from a department head. Then she found out Shull had been Kevin’s advisor, and her attitude changed completely. All of a sudden she was more than willing for me to talk to Shull. I didn’t think much of it, but maybe she had a reason. Wanting Shull to have problems.”