Jake got Jane Carlson’s lab address from the University website and reached the five-story red brick building in the early afternoon. There was no security and he went straight to the room listed in the directory. It was a small cramped office with four desks and no windows, apparently shared by Jane and three other graduate students. But the only occupant at the moment was a young red-haired woman who looked like the picture of Jane he’d found on the web.

She was intently concentrating on something, so he knocked on the door.

She turned and glared at him. “Damn it, are you another one of those frigging salesmen? Get the hell out of here before I call security!”

Jake tried a smile. “No, I’m not a salesman. And I apologize for interrupting. I can see this is a busy time. I’m actually a private investigator working for Holly Singer’s family. Do you remember her?”

Jane looked at the business card he handed her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’m trying to finish my thesis and, well look at this.” She held up a thick manuscript and showed him a page full of red ink corrections. “This was supposed to be the final draft, and look at all the crap my advisor scribbled over it. I hate her!”

Jake shook his head sympathetically. “That must be tough. But you’ll get through it. I can come back later if you’d prefer, but I’d really appreciate just a few minutes of your time. And I know it would mean a lot to Holly’s parents.”

“I’m being selfish, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I think this happens to us graduate students when we’re trying to finish up. Yes, of course I’ll be happy to talk to you. It was horrible what happened to Holly.”

“Yes, a real tragedy. How well did you know her?”

“Not well. Just from being roommates at the Gordon Conference last summer. But she was really nice and gave me some good tips about finding a postdoc after I finish here.”

“That’s great, it’s just the kind of thing her parents will like to hear. I’m looking into things that she did in her last year or so to try to assemble a full picture for them. Do you remember anything else from the Gordon Conference? Maybe things you and Holly did together?”

“Well, we went to some of the lecture sessions and had a few meals together, but nothing special. She was intent on meeting some of the senior people who were there, especially Eric Prescott. She said she’d sent him an email and they were going to meet at the conference.”

“Do you know if she got a chance to talk to him?”

“Oh, definitely. She was pretty pushy about it. He gave the keynote lecture the first night, and she went up to him right afterward. She was all excited when she got back to our room later because he asked her to meet him after lunch the next day. I saw them go off walking down a trail together that afternoon, so she must’ve had a good chance to talk to him.”

“How did it go for her? Was her meeting with him helpful?”

“I don’t know, she didn’t say any more about it that night. She might’ve met someone else, because the next night she didn’t come back to the room at all. So I think she must’ve found a playmate to spend the night with. You know, that happens a lot at these meetings.”

“Do you know who it might have been? I don’t want to pry into anything personal, but I’m just thinking that maybe I should try to talk to whomever it was.”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t know any more about it. She came back to the conference Wednesday afternoon, but didn’t say anything about either what happened with Prescott or where she spent Tuesday night. Then the meeting ended on Thursday and we haven’t kept in touch since.”

• • •

Jake got an early evening flight back to Boston and gave Pam a call. “Prescott lied to me about meeting Holly at the Gordon Conference.”

“What! The bastard. What’s the story?”

“I followed up your suggestion and looked for people who Holly might’ve been with at the conference. I found an email from her roommate, who’s a graduate student in Chicago. I flew out there this morning and talked to her.”

“About Prescott?” Pam asked.

“That’s where the conversation went. According to the roommate, Holly was intent on meeting Prescott during the conference. She went up to him the first night after his lecture, and then they went off on a walk together after lunch the second day. Too much for him to have forgotten.”

“I agree,” Pam said. “That certainly seems suspicious.”

“Plus I think there’s still more to the story. Holly never came back to her room the night after that.”

“And you’re thinking she may have spent the night with Prescott,” Pam said. “That might explain things in a different way—just plain sex. It used to be common for people to sleep around at these meetings, with a lot of senior men going after younger women, especially students or postdocs. Now it’s frowned upon and a couple of senior men have even gotten into big trouble for sexual harassment. But it still happens all the time, and Prescott has a reputation as a player at these things. If Holly was interested in talking to him, I can easily imagine that he took it as an opportunity to get her into bed. And if that’s what happened, I’m pretty sure the Institute for Advanced Neuroscience would frown on his being involved with a postdoc, even if she was from a different institution. He’d have good reason to want to keep it quiet.”

“So you think it might be sex that he’s trying to hide, not the theft of your drug? I guess it’s possible, but still a lot of coincidence for me. In any case, I’m going to check into Prescott’s activities at the conference a bit more. At least I’d like to see if it looks like he was Holly’s paramour that night or if we should be looking for someone else.”

“And how are you going to do that? Talk to Prescott again?”

“No, I don’t think that would get us anywhere. I’ll take a less direct approach.”