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“You’re sure as hell not an academic.”
Jason’s lip curled. “And I don’t give a flying fuck about what you say inside or out of the classroom. I’m not here for you. Unless you had something to do with Georgie Ono’s death.”
“Georgie? What are you talking about? What the hell does this have to do with Georgie?” Maybe it occurred to him what it had to do with Georgie because, though it was hard to tell in the unflattering fluorescent light, Bardolf seemed to turn gray. “But the case is closed…” Whatever he read in Jason’s expression caused him to fold onto the chair next to the desk.
Jason said, “Professor Ono’s family’s having trouble reconciling the circumstances of her death.”
“What circumstances? It was an accident. What else would it be?”
“Suicide?”
“No way,” Bardolf said with absolute certainty. “Never.”
“Murder?” Jason suggested.
“Murder?” Bardolf gaped. “Who would— That’s ridiculous.”
“When was the last time you saw Professor Ono?”
“How the hell many times do I have to go through this? I would never have harmed her. What would my motive be?”
“If you could just answer the question, sir?”
“Like you don’t already know what my answer is? This is bullshit harassment.”
Jason opened his mouth, and Bardolf said, “Fine! For the millionth time! I had dinner with her Thursday night. She left my place Friday morning. My neighbors saw her drive away.”
“And you went out of town when?”
“I left Friday evening. I returned Tuesday. I didn’t see her again after she left my house.”
Bardolf had never varied from his account. He did not vary now.
“The neighbors heard you arguing Thursday evening.”
“And they also heard us fucking afterward, which is what we always did. We fought and we fucked. We had a passionate relationship.”
Jason said, “Was that night a reconciliation? You two had broken up, correct?”
“Broken up?” Bardolf looked taken aback. “We weren’t a couple. We weren’t romantic. We were friends with benefits, and I assure you, the benefits were terrific. I’ve never had a more satisfying sexual partner.” He said with what seemed to be genuine regret, “I can’t imagine I ever will again.”
Okaay, then. Bardolf’s version of their relationship matched no one else’s. And yet, while Jason didn’t much like the guy, his words had the ring of truth.
Obnoxious truth, but truth all the same.
“You’re saying Professor Ono wasn’t in love with you?”
“In-in-in love with me? Georgie?” Bardolf practically sputtered at the idea. “Georgie was not in love with anyone, least of all me. Her love was reserved for silver halide crystal ghosts moving across a thirty-foot movie screen in a dark theater.”
Alex had said Bardolf knew Ono better than anyone else. Maybe he was right.
“You knew Professor Ono for a long time.”
“Is that a question? Yes. I knew Georgie for nearly a decade. We were friends for nearly a decade.”
“I see. Well, speaking of movie screens, did Professor Ono ever mention a film called Snowball in Hell?”
Bardolf looked surprised. “Where did you hear about that?”
“Georgie told her grandfather she believed she’d discovered a lost noir masterpiece.”
“She didn’t discover it. She was attempting to buy it from the person who discovered it. But the deal fell through. The seller got cold feet.”
“Do you know who the seller was?”
Bardolf moved his head in negation. “No. I tried to get the name, but Georgie didn’t trust me not to cut her out of the deal.” He smiled a foxy kind of smile. “I can’t say she was wrong. That film belongs in the archive. Anyway, I think it might have been someone she met on the internet. She was very active in chat rooms and forums.”
“Calida Lois believes the person was someone here on campus.”
Bardolf shook his head. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Someone on campus would have come to me. I’m the expert. I’m the one with the connections.”
Jason gave that viewpoint some consideration. He thought an argument could be made either way. “Is it possible the film didn’t really exist? That it was a scam and Georgie was targeted because she had made her interest in that particular film well known?”
“No. The film was real all right. Anyway, Georgie’s obsession with Snowball began after she was approached by the seller. The more she learned about the production, the more determined she was to get her hands on that print.”
“Even so—”
“She showed me a film strip: six frames, exposed onto safety stock, from the original film. I’ve seen what’s available on YouTube and in the archive, and these frames were unique.”
“What happened to the film strip? It’s not in her effects.”
“The seller demanded it back after they changed their mind about parting with the film.” Bardolf glared at Jason. “You said you’re not a cop. Then what are you?”
Jason drew his ID out and offered it—with what Sam would have considered theatrical flare. Bardolf, predictably, turned red with anger. “A fed! That’s ten times worse! This is all about Eli, isn’t it?”
That surprised Jason. “No. It really isn’t.”
“The hell. Eli didn’t try to sell Georgie an illegal copy of Snowball in Hell.”
“I didn’t think he did.”
“I don’t know what got into Georgie. I don’t know why she turned on Eli. But she burned a lot of bridges when she went to the cops. I told her there was nothing illegal going on. It’s a cinephile club, for chrissake. Like she didn’t know provenance was going to be an issue with films that old and that rare?”
“From what I gather, Professor Ono was very concerned with copyright infringement.”
“We’re all concerned. Of course. That she would take it upon herself—”
“I can see how her decision to go to the authorities might upset a lot of the members.”
“We don’t have a lot of members. We’re a select group of friends privately sharing films from our collections.”
Jason refrained from comment.
