Sarah slammed the door shut behind her. “You came to see Maggie,” she accused.
Isobel’s hands flew up defensively. “She was a total surprise. Honest!”
“So you didn’t talk about the judge at all?” Sarah raised a dubious eyebrow.
Isobel gave a wan smile. “I didn’t say that.”
Sarah circled behind her desk and sat down. “I really like you, Isobel. But I’m still very angry about what you pulled with Candy.”
“I know,” Isobel said, sinking into the visitor’s chair. “That was completely out of line. In every way. I’m so sorry.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“Do you have another job?” Sarah asked finally.
“I’m hostessing at the restaurant where Delphi works.”
“And how’s that going?”
Pushing aside an image of Carlo furiously grabbing Delphi’s iPhone from her, Isobel forced a smile. “It’s going.”
“Okay, what’s on your mind?”
“Empire State Youth Camp and Candy’s connection to it.”
“Candy had nothing to do with it,” Sarah said quickly.
“But you know about the camp.”
Sarah exhaled slowly, as if trying to keep her emotions at bay. “It’s the real reason she left Harrison. It wasn’t that hussy in the photograph. That was just for public consumption.” She took off her glasses and addressed the earpiece, avoiding Isobel’s eye. “Candy knew about the camp, because a friend’s son was sent there, though not by Harrison. Word on the inside is that Harrison makes money off the camp. That got back to Candy, and she confronted him. He admitted that he’d invested money in it, and that was the last straw. In return for a generous settlement, she promised to keep her mouth shut.”
Isobel was appalled. “How could she possibly accept money generated by such a horrible enterprise?”
“She didn’t keep it. She funneled it all into juvenile legal aid charities. Candy makes plenty of her own money. She wanted to redirect Harrison’s profits into something that would benefit kids in need.”
Isobel shook her head, uncomprehending. “But how could she—and you—not go to the authorities?”
“Candy was afraid they would find some way to implicate her. Like the Madoff thing: she must have known, she was living off the investment during her marriage. Anything like that would have been a major professional blemish. She didn’t want to be the whistle-blower, although I pointed out that she could have asked for, and probably received, immunity. As for me…” Sarah paused. “Well, I was tempted, believe me. But confidentiality made it impossible for me to act.”
“And you know who the other investors were, right?”
“No idea.”
Sarah had admitted so much else that Isobel believed her. “Gordon Lang, Angelina Rivington, and her partner, Mason Crawford. The whole thing was set up under the auspices of Rivington Properties. Now two of the four investors are dead. What does that sound like to you?”
“Like somebody is trying to stop them.”
Isobel paused. “Andrew Harrison was at The Hostelry that night.”
Sarah gave a little gasp. “Who invited him?”
“Nobody. He was one of the actors. He’s changed his name. He’s now Andrew Dahl.”
“Dahl was his mother’s name,” Sarah said quietly. “What’s he like?”
“Shell-shocked. By that I mean that he seems like a shell of a person, and he’s kind of shocked by everything around him all the time.”
“And you think he did it?” Sarah asked.
Isobel shook her head. “The police brought him in for questioning, but he claims he didn’t know the party was for his father until he showed up. But it got me thinking. What if there was someone else there that night—another guest—who had some connection to the camp? What if Candy—okay, maybe not Candy,” she amended after seeing Sarah’s face harden, “but someone—Bethany, Maggie, even Harrison—put a person on that list, either knowingly or not, who wanted revenge?”
“Why stop at the guests?” Sarah asked. “There was an entire restaurant staff, most of them young. It could have been any of them.”
“I see why that’s appealing, but this had to have been premeditated. And the person had to know there was a murder mystery happening. The timing was too exact.”
“Maybe the killer wasn’t a real waiter but was just dressed as one,” mused Sarah. “He or she could have been hired by someone in the judge’s inner circle and come prepared to kill.”
“Exactly. But if that’s the case, and it wasn’t Candy, she could be in danger.”
Sarah looked puzzled for a moment, but then she understood. “You mean Gordon.”
Isobel nodded. “Last man standing. With Harrison and Rivington both dead, he’s so close to being the sole beneficiary of Harrison’s will, but only if—”
“If the boys are found to be using illegal substances and Candy is dead,” Sarah finished.
Isobel sat back in her chair. “There’s a whopper of a motive for you.”
Sarah gnawed a fingernail. “And you’re right. He couldn’t have done it alone.”
“I’ll have to figure out a way to get the names of the restaurant staff, but Maggie has the guest list. I had just asked her for it when you came out. She’s thinking about giving it to me. Maybe you can persuade her?”
Sarah was on her feet like a shot, but when she opened the door, Maggie was standing there, poised to knock. She crossed the room and handed several printed pages to Isobel.
“This is for you.”
James was surprised to get an email from Professor Lin asking him to meet her in her office that afternoon. When he pushed open the door, he was even more surprised to discover that she wasn’t alone. Brandon Hart, the dean of undergraduates, was seated in one of her two visitors’ chairs.
“Am I in trouble?” James asked before he could stop himself. His last experience facing down an undergraduate dean had not ended well. He tried to remind himself that he was not a frightened nineteen-year-old, but a mature and responsible adult who had done nothing wrong, but his heart was hammering in his chest all the same.
“No, of course not,” said Hart with an indulgent smile. He had thick, shiny black hair brushed off a low, square forehead in an upsweep that made him look more like a Hugo Boss model than an educator. The kind of guy James would be inclined to take a reflexive dislike to if they met at a party. He forced himself to stay open and friendly.
“Please, have a seat,” Professor Lin said.
“Professor Lin told me about your conversation the other day and your interest in juvenile defense,” Hart said. “I understand she directed you to a lawyer who can provide a list of inmates at Empire State.”
James nodded, mystified.
“We’d like a copy of that list. Can you do that for us?”
A little warning bell went off in the back of James’s mind.
“I don’t even know if my friend will be able to get it,” he hedged.
Hart ran a hand through his gelled hair. “Having that list could help us shut down the camp, especially with the proof you say you have about the financial interests.”
“Why don’t you ask Peter Catanzaro for the list yourself?”
But as soon as James asked the question, the obvious answer came to him. Of course they’d asked, and for whatever reason, Peter hadn’t given it to them. Neither Lin nor Hart rushed to respond. James’s eyes flicked between them, aware of the need to tread carefully.
“Listen,” he said genially, “I don’t know whether or not my friend will be able to get the list. But if she does, I’ll copy it for you. How’s that?”
Hart started to say something, but Lin interrupted him. “We can’t ask for more than that. Thank you.”
Hart stood up. “You know, there are some excellent internships available in this field. Unfortunately, you’re quite a bit older than the students they normally consider, but my word carries a lot of weight. I’d be happy to advance you for one if you’re interested.”
But only if I deliver the list, James added silently.
“That would be very kind,” he said aloud. “Thank you.”
Hart nodded to Lin and took his leave. James stayed in his seat, staring after him.
“I apologize if that seemed heavy-handed,” Lin said.
How was he supposed to respond to that? James wondered.
He faced her with a steady gaze. “If you haven’t had any luck getting the list from Catanzaro, I don’t know why you’re so sure my friend will.”
Lin leaned back in her chair and regarded him cannily. “Dean Hart is even more dedicated than I am to addressing the injustices in the juvenile system. He’s also very influential. If your friend cares about your career, I’m sure she’ll make a special effort. You’re a fine student, James, but you are starting a little late, and there is that little blot on your academic record.” She inclined her head toward her office door. “He can make that disappear, you know.”
James swallowed, unable to believe what he was hearing. “This list is that important to you?”
“It is.”
“Important enough to threaten me if I don’t turn it over?”
She squinted in an attempt to appear quizzical. “Nobody’s threatened you, James. We’re talking about helping you in return for helping us. Please don’t misconstrue this conversation.”
James stood up, noting with perverse satisfaction her flicker of anxiety as he encroached ever so slightly on her personal space.
“I don’t think I’ve misconstrued anything at all,” he said. “In fact, I have to thank you for an extremely informative lesson in how the wheels of the justice system grind behind the scenes. With my late start and dicey academic background, I can’t afford to be uninformed.”
And before she could respond, he turned his back on her and walked out.