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Smiling, he puts them in his briefcase and flicks it shut. “Thank you, Dean Stonewall. We’ll be in touch.”
There’s something in his gaze, a glint in his eyes, that I don’t like. But for all intents and purposes, Special Agent Flint is doing his job, and as this is the first time I’m meeting him, it seems unlikely he’s an enemy.
He holds up his briefcase, nods at me, and leaves. I follow him out and close the door to my vault behind me. When he’s out of my office, I change the security codes and continue on with my day. There’s much to oversee running a university, and one of those things is finding Simon Bartlett.
Days later, I’m in my office working on papers when Bernardo Valli calls me.
“Hey, Dean, how’s it hanging?”
“Mr. Valli, how can I help you?”
His laughter trickles down the line as though I’ve said the funniest thing ever. “That kid you wanted me to look into… Bartlett?”
“Yes, have you found him?”
“Not exactly. A body has washed up, and it fits his description.”
“Murder?”
“Nah, looks like he took a swan dive off a bridge. Harbor Master thinks he went in close to the Verazzano Narrows Bridge or somewhere near it. Fish have eaten away a lot of the flesh, but they say it’s a male, caucasian, early twenties.”
“DNA?”
“It’s being run now. His parents listed him as missing, so we’ll know in a few days. Any idea why this guy would off himself?”
Sighing, I say, “The youth of today, who knows?”
“Yeah, fucking pansies. So, should I send my bill to the usual place?”
“Yes, Mr. Valli, that would be good.”
Ending the call, I don’t waste his or my time with pleasantries. Mr. Valli isn’t an associate, and we don’t run in the same circles. He has about as much respect for me as I do for him. I’m sure he thinks I’m a fucking pansy too.
Opening my vault, I walk in and retrieve Simon Bartlett’s USB and his file. No sense in keeping it if he’s dead. I plug it into my laptop to watch Jamison Felder’s supposed death one last time. After seeing the photograph from Special Agent Armstrong, I had my team rerun the blood samples, and not all was right. The blood on Simon’s clothes was definitely his, but the warehouse blood had abnormalities, so there’s a chance he could be alive and now with Simon’s disappearance and possible death, it’s possible Jamison Felder is behind the whole thing.
There’s nothing on it.
No files.
No recordings.
Nothing.
Standing, I open my vault and pull out another file. Inside is a hard drive, so I walk it out, plug it into my laptop, and it too is empty. Picking up my laptop, I go back into the room and open one of the filing cabinets and pull out another USB.
Nothing.
Striding back to my desk, I hit the button on the intercom.
“Yes, Dean Stonewall?”
“My office, now!”
There are dozens of files in this room. Every single one I put into my laptop is blank.
Ms. Brown taps on the door. “Dean?”
“Get in here.”
