Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #4: Books 13-16 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (best ereader for academics .txt) 📕

“Yeah, man. Maybe not quite so dramatic as I made it sound, but it’s all true.”

Dehan pulled off her hat. “You said Robles intervened for you to be admitted…”

“No, I was admitted to the university in the ordinary way. But I got a reputation for being a clown. I have a bad habit of mimicking the teachers in tutorials and shit. That’s not helpful in a serious institution like this one, however high your IQ is. So when I applied to assist on Dr. Meigh’s research program, initially they said no, but Robles intervened and got me on.”

“So you already had a good relationship with him.”

“Yeah, very good.”

I cleared my throat and frowned. “The whole thing about the Robles-Americano electric engine…?”

He nodded. “We talked about that.”

“OK, so here’s the thing, I have just come from looking at his research and there is absolutely nothing exceptional about it at all. All he does is review existing technology and discuss how it can be improved. But there is nothing, nothing, in the way of solid proposals.”

“How could you possibly have seen…”

“Dr. Meigh gave us access.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head. “Meigh? No, our proposals were radical, we discussed them in depth…”

“Nothing.”

“But she wouldn’t have…”

Dehan snapped, “Wouldn’t have what? Are you saying she kept stuff back?”

“I don’t know, man. I’m just a student. I’m not even a graduate. You’d have to ask her…”

I pressed him. “But you are certain that he had proposals that were revolutionary.”

“I don’t know.”

“You just said so.”

“Yeah, but you just said…”

“Were you lying?”

“No, man! Stop it!”

“Think very carefully before you answer, Am. Did you and Robles discuss research that he was conducting that would be a radical improvement to the lithium ion battery?”

He swallowed. “Yes. We did.”

“And you were involved in that research?”

“Yes.”

“Where did he go Saturday nights?”

He stared at me and went a sallow gray color. “What?”

“Where did Robles go Saturday nights?”

“I don’t know. I have no idea. How would I know?”

“I need you to come to the station and make a statement.”

“Now? I have a late seminar. I have a ton of work to do, man. I’ll be there first thing in the morning. Nine o’clock.”

“We’ll take you and bring you back.”

“C’mon man! Give me a break! I told you I’m struggling with my reputation here. If I’m seen leaving with the cops…”

I sighed. “Nine AM, I want to see you there. And don’t even dream about changing your story.”

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

We walked back out into the dark. Little spits of freezing rain were being carried on the air by a light breeze. We climbed into the car. I fired her up and we pulled away toward the Bronx. The traffic was at its heaviest and we crawled along, stopping and starting among the broken, wet lights. I took out my cell and called the inspector.

“John, where are you? I’ve had Costas on the phone twice in the last hour.”

“We’re stuck in traffic, sir. We should be there within the hour.”

“I’ll tell him to make his way over, then.”

“Yes sir, we’ll be as quick as we can.”

At Madison Square Park, however, I took a left and cruised slowly down West 25th. Dehan didn’t say anything because she knew what I was doing. I turned right on 8th and then right again onto West 26th. I slowed as we approached number 250. It was the Wells Fargo building. Above it there was a jiujitsu club, and above that was Dare 2 Dream, the club Dr. Jose Robles used to frequent on a Saturday night.

It was ten to eight by the time we got back to the station. We found the Assistant District Attorney in the inspector’s office. He stood to greet us as we stripped off our coats.

“John, Carmen, thank you for meeting with me. I know it’s a long day.”

His manner and his voice were pleasant. He was in his forties, balding slightly, but his hair was still black. We sat and he studied first Dehan and then me. “How did you get on?”

Dehan made a ball of her hat and said, “Before we get onto that, may I ask you a question, sir?”

“Of course, but please, call me Costas.”

“Have you a personal interest in this case?”

His face hardened. “What are you suggesting, Detective?”

“I’m not suggesting anything, sir. I’m just asking if you have a personal interest in the case.” He sighed and sat back in his chair. Dehan went on. “We would like to know what prompted you to press for a continuation of this investigation, rather than accepting Detective Gutierrez’s conclusions. That’s a very unusual thing to do.”

He said, carefully, “There seemed to be unexplained aspects to the case.”

“Could you give us an example, sir?”

He hesitated. “You pointed out yourselves, the gun. Not only was it an unusual choice for a woman like Agnes, but where did she get it from? Also, where is she? It is not easy to disappear that completely in this day and age, even for a professional criminal. Yet she has vanished without leaving a trace. Her cards have not been used. There has been a BOLO out on her and on her car for a couple of weeks, but there is not a trace of her.”

Dehan leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and nodded several times. “Sir, Costas, my partner and I run the cold cases unit in this precinct. Our archive isn’t computerized yet, so it still fills two big cartons with cases. Some of them go back thirty years. What is it about this one, in particular, that makes it more important than all those other cases?”

He stared for a