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  She looked up with a start, then smiled. “Not bad. How’s the world of university administration?”

  “Hectic, as usual. I’m over here partly to see some real science for a change but also because I need to ask you something. Has to be kept confidential, okay?”

  “Of course, you know that’s not a problem. But before you get into that, be sure to check in with Laurie while you’re here. She has some seriously good stuff. You’ll love it.”

  Janet was a scientist herself—she knew what really got me going. I inclined my head with a smile. “Thanks, I will. But first, I want to get your take on student gossip. Do you hear anything about Steve Upton and how he interacts with his students?”

  She shrugged. “Sure, there’s gossip about all the professors. A lot of students like Steve, say that he’s very warm and supportive, always available to talk with them, and usually has helpful suggestions when they have problems. But there are also some stories about women in his lab who’ve felt uncomfortable when he’s gotten too close. Hugging them when they’ve gotten good results, rubbing their shoulders, asking personal questions, that sort of thing. But most of his students say that’s just how he is and that he pretty much treats the guys in his lab the same way. He seems like one of those professors who may be too buddy-buddy with his students, but I don’t think there’s anything really wrong.”

  Interesting; not quite the picture Carol had painted. But maybe a tendency to step over the line. I headed toward the far end of the lab, where I saw Laurie at her desk.

  “Hi, Laurie. Janet tells me you have some interesting news.”

  She looked up at me with her freckled face split by a big grin. “I do! The experiment I set up with Josh Cohen gave a neat result. Look here.”

  She opened her notebook, and I pulled up a chair next to her to look at the data. “You remember we’re looking for a drug that makes cancer cells more sensitive to radiation, right?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You think I’ve lost all my intelligence just because I’m a department chair? I can still manage to remember what you’re working on.”

  She laughed. “Well, check this out. Treating cancer cells with this drug, AX824, makes them three times more sensitive to a standard dose of X-rays. And most important, it doesn’t have any effect on normal cells. Meaning it could really enhance cancer treatment by radiation.”

  I scanned through her results. Approximately 20 percent of either normal or cancer cells died after receiving a standard X-ray dose. But if the cells were pretreated with AX824, cancer cell death increased to 60 percent, whereas normal cell death stayed about the same at 20 percent. Pretty interesting results.

  I gave her a fist bump. “You’re right—this looks really good. You should be able to develop this into an important paper and a nice thesis.”

  She jumped up and put her arms around me. I got up and started to return the hug, but then I wondered if I was being too forward. What would my other students think? Was this the kind of thing Steve Upton did?

  I patted her shoulder instead and sat back down. “I want to ask you about something else. Josh is in Steve Upton’s lab, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. You remember he synthesized this drug and asked me if I could test it in our cell culture system. You said it was fine to collaborate with them.”

  “Sure, it’s great. A nice collaboration between chemistry and biology labs. But tell me, how does Josh like working with Steve?”

  “Josh likes him a lot—although it’s funny. He says that Steve is sometimes so friendly it’s embarrassing. Like one time, Josh got some nice data, and Steve gave him a big hug in front of the whole lab.” She giggled. “I guess like I just did to you. Anyway, Josh said that if he’d been a girl, he would’ve thought Steve was trying to feel him up.”

  I sent Karen an email when I got back to my office.

  Talked to two of my students, including one who’s collaborating with a student in Upton’s lab. It seems like Upton may be overly friendly and demonstrative, hugging and so forth. But no indication of real harassment. I think we should hold off questioning more students until we talk to Emily on Monday, just to be sure we don’t start spreading new rumors.

  How are you doing with your new case? Give me a call tomorrow or over the weekend if you want to discuss.

  I almost suggested meeting for a cup of coffee or a drink but decided that was probably too pushy. I kept checking my email but didn’t get a response for the next three days, which I used to catch up on other stuff in the office. Going into work on weekends gave me a chance to bring Rosie in with me, which she always seemed to enjoy. As did my students, who loved having a dog around to play with.

  Finally, a terse message came in from Karen on Sunday afternoon.

  Thanks for the info. Been busy. See you Monday morning for interview with Emily.

  I read it over twice, looking for some indication of the warmth I had felt from her Thursday afternoon. But there wasn’t any.

  Maybe I’d misinterpreted her friendliness over lunch.

  7

  Karen got to my office just in time for our eleven o’clock meeting with Emily, who was already waiting in the visitors’ area. I offered coffee, which they both declined, and we took our usual positions at my conference table. Emily was wearing standard student garb, jeans and a T-shirt, with her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Given the occasion, I was surprised at how relaxed she seemed. Comfortable and at ease, with no sign of nervousness.

  I started off by introducing Karen and said, “Emily, I just want to say again that we’re here to help you. We have to explore further what may or may not have happened Tuesday night, but I want you to know that we’re on your side.”

  She smiled pleasantly. “Thank you, Professor. But like I said on the phone, nothing happened. Except that I drank too much and woke up with a stupid hangover.”

  Karen pushed a piece of paper across the table and addressed Emily. Her tone was harsh. “Is this the text you sent to your friend Carol? Read it. It doesn’t sound like nothing to me.”

  Emily turned red. “I’m sorry. I was just kidding, like I said.”

  Karen gave her a hard look and leaned across the table. “Kidding? Emily, I find that hard to believe. Let me explain something to you. Like Professor Parker said, we want to help you. But at the same time, your text suggests that there’s been a serious violation of university policy governing sexual harassment. We’re obligated by federal law to pursue the case, and we have no intention of doing otherwise. We need your full cooperation, and anything less will mean that you’re obstructing our investigation. If I find that to be the case, I can and will recommend your dismissal from the university.”

  That had the effect Karen wanted. Emily’s lower lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears. “All right, I’m sorry. Please, I have to finish my degree. I’ll cooperate.”

  Karen sat back and nodded to me, passing the baton. “Okay, let’s start over,” I said. “Tell us what happened Tuesday night.”

  She sniffled and asked for a glass of water. I got a bottle for her from my undercounter refrigerator, and she started talking. “Our professors, Mike Singer and Steve Upton, took Carol and me out for dinner at a Mexican restaurant to celebrate our paper. We were having a good time, eating and drinking, and I guess I had too much to drink. When we were finished with dinner, I started to feel really tipsy and couldn’t even walk out of the restaurant without Carol helping me. We all got into a car, but after that, I don’t remember much. I think I was in the back with Steve, and I sort of remember him helping me into my apartment. And that’s it. When I woke up the next morning, I was on the couch with my pants and underwear pulled down.”

  She started crying again, and I passed her a box of tissues. “I don’t remember what happened or how I got that way. And I don’t want to get Steve into any kind of trouble. I can’t imagine that he did anything, and he’s always been so good to me.”

  Karen changed her tone, speaking sof
tly and sympathetically now. “Thank you for telling us. It’s possible that you’ll remember more later. One thing I’d like to suggest is that you get some help dealing with this. It’s not healthy for you to just try to bury it.” She handed Emily a business card. “Dr. Stamford in Student Health is an expert at helping women who’ve been assaulted. I know her well, and she’s a good person. Is it okay if I refer you to her?”

  Emily nodded, and Karen reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “Good, I’m so glad. You’re going to be all right, Emily. You’re strong, and you’ll get through this.”

  Emily gave a faint smile. I was amazed at the transition Karen had made, from a tough interrogator to a compassionate support figure in minutes. I guessed it was another indication of her training as a detective. She was good.

  “Can I ask you a couple more questions?” Karen said.

  Emily nodded again, and Karen continued. “You think Steve Upton helped you up to your apartment from the car, right? Can you remember how you got into the apartment? Did you give him a key?”

  Emily was quiet for a minute. Then she frowned and said, “I do sort of remember that. I fumbled around for the key in my jeans pocket and gave it to him.”

  “And do you remember where it was the next morning? Was it back in your jeans?”

  “No. It wasn’t in my pocket, and I didn’t know where it was at first. Then I found it on my kitchen table. He probably left it there instead of giving it back to me.”

  “Was your door locked the next morning? Did it look normal?” Karen asked.

  “Yes, it was locked. Like always.”

  “What kind of lock do you have?”

  Emily looked confused. “I don’t know what it’s called. Just a regular doorknob that a key goes into.”

  Karen picked up her phone from the table. “Hang on a sec.” Then she showed the phone to Emily. “Is your lock like this?”

  “Yes, just like that.”

  “We’ll talk more about it later, but this isn’t a very secure kind of lock,” Karen said. “It’s easy to open with just a credit card if you know how. I’m going to get it changed to a deadbolt for you. The university will cover the expense.”

  Emily blinked her eyes and took a nervous sip of water. “I didn’t know. Thank you.”

  “But first, tell me—are there any other keys to your apartment?”

  “The owner who lives downstairs has a key. And I keep a spare hidden underneath a big potted plant by the door to my side entrance.”

  “And does anyone else have a key? A boyfriend maybe?”

  “I broke up with my boyfriend a month or so ago. He had his own key, but he gave it back to me. Although I think he knows about my spare.”

  The logic of letting the ex-boyfriend know about the hidden key escaped me, but Karen didn’t react. “We’ll need your ex-boyfriend’s name,” she said. “How was the breakup? Was he angry?”

  “Derek Kilpatrick. He’s a student here too. And yes, he was furious about the breakup. He has a terrible temper, and I’d had enough of his tantrums, so I told him we were finished. He had a fit and kept bothering me for the first couple of weeks. Finally, I told him I was going to call the police, and he stopped.”

  “What do you mean by bothering you?”

  “Catching me unexpectedly on campus or even coming to my apartment to beg me to take him back. And then yelling and cursing at me when I wouldn’t.”

  Karen made a few more notes and looked over at me. “Anything you want to ask at this point?”

  I turned to Emily. “Yes, I’d like to hear about your relationship with Steve Upton. What’s working with him been like?”

  “It’s been great. I’m lucky to have him for my thesis advisor. He’s always available to help, and he’s totally supportive, not like the advisors some of my friends have who seem to just be out for themselves.”

  “Has he ever asked you to do things socially with him, other than your dinner Tuesday night?”

  “I’ve been over to his house a couple of times for lab parties with other students. And one time he got tickets to a Red Sox game and took four or five us with him. But he’s never asked me to do anything alone with him. He’s friendly but always very professional. That’s why I can’t believe he did anything to me Tuesday night.”

  “There seems to be a lot of gossip about him being overly physical with his students. Hugging, rubbing backs—that kind of thing.”

  Emily rolled her eyes and looked annoyed. “That’s silly. Yes, he’s an expressive guy, and he’ll get excited and be demonstrative if you get a good result. Or try to be comforting if you’re upset. He’s hugged me a couple of times, but it doesn’t mean anything. And he’s the same with the guys in the lab. It’s just the way he is. Nothing wrong with it.”

  I nodded and looked over at Karen. “Okay, thanks. That’s it for me.”

  Karen reviewed her notes. “You said the key was on the kitchen table and the door was locked. Was everything else like it normally is the next morning? Lights, windows, anything out of order?”

  Emily closed her eyes, as if she were trying to picture the scene. “I’m pretty sure the lights were off, like usual. And the windows were closed with the shades most of the way up, the way I always keep them.”

  Karen made a note and closed her book. “Good. That covers all of my questions for now too. Can I send a couple of technicians over to your apartment to see if there’s any physical evidence from Tuesday? You know, fingerprints or DNA.”

  “Okay, I guess. Where would they look?”

  “How about the clothes you were wearing that night—have they been washed?”

  “No. They’re still in the dirty laundry.”

  “Good. We’ll take a look at them. And the couch you slept on? Was there a cover over it?”

  “No. It’s just an upholstered couch.”

  “They’ll check that out too, then, as well as look around the rest of the apartment to see if they can find anything. Also, I’ll send a locksmith over to change your lock. And please don’t give out any extra keys, okay? Or make duplicates to hide. It’s just too dangerous.”

  Emily blushed. “Okay, I won’t. Do you think someone could have used one of my keys to get in Tuesday night?”

  “I don’t know,” Karen said. “There seem to be at least a couple of possibilities, obviously including Professor Upton. We’re just going to have to keep investigating.”

  Emily got up to leave. “It wasn’t Steve. I can tell you that for sure. He’s always been a perfect gentleman.”

  Once we were alone, I looked across the table at Karen. “My head’s spinning. What do you make of all that?”

  She smiled wryly. “At least she’s talking to us now. And we know her text wasn’t a sick joke. But you’re right—it doesn’t make it clear what happened.”

  “It seems like a couple of people had keys or knew about the hidden spare. Including the ex-boyfriend, who sounds like a real jerk. Plus, he could easily have had a copy of his key made before he gave it back to her.”

  Karen nodded. “He certainly sounds like a plausible suspect. And we don’t know about the landlord. Not to mention that anyone could have gotten through her lock without much trouble anyway. The only thing that seems clear is that Emily does not think it was Upton.”

  “So are you ruling him out?”

  “No. He’s still the most straightforward suspect. But we also need to consider the alternative that someone else went to her apartment after Upton left, found her knocked out, and took advantage of the situation to assault her. Maybe the crime-scene techs will come up with something to help us. I wouldn’t be surprised if they find semen or hair on the couch, although getting a match could be another story.”

  I nodded. “But it wasn’t just random, right? Whoever it was presumably knew that Emily was passed out before they came in and assaulted her, didn’t they?”

  “Yes, I think that’s a reasonable assumption. Which means that the assailant is l
ikely to have seen Upton taking her up to her apartment. Maybe the ex-boyfriend was in the neighborhood, still stalking her. Or maybe the landlord heard or saw something.”

  “How about Singer? Are you still considering him as a potential suspect?”

  “No, his alibi checks out. Students saw him coming and going from his office, and his wife’s poker friends verified that he got home around eleven. And there were a bunch of emails sent from his office computer during the time he was there.”

  “Okay,” I said. “That still leaves us with some other possibilities to sort out. What’s next?”

  She smiled with a warmth that excited me. “Next, we go get some lunch. Then I think we’re ready to talk to Steve Upton. But let’s see if we can surprise him in his office instead of bringing him over here.”

  “All right. I’ll have Kristy check if he’s in today. But why the change in venue?”

  Again the smile. I liked it.

  “Just feel like an outing,” she said. “It’ll make lunch more of an adventure.”

  8

  It was one of those late-fall days when Boston weather was unexpectedly pleasant. Sunny and midseventies. Karen suggested that we get lunch from the Italian sausage truck and take it down to the river, so we got sausage, pepper, and onion subs and found a bench on the edge of the Charles. Joggers kept passing by on the path behind us, but otherwise, we were alone with the river and a couple of ducks.

  I saluted her with my can of soda. “A Monday picnic. This is an unexpected treat.”

  “Just a working lunch to give us a chance to talk. How’re you doing with all this? I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you over the weekend. I was just totally bombed with the other case I mentioned.”

  I smiled inwardly as I took a bite of my sub. It was nice that she mentioned her failure to respond to my email. “No problem. Don’t worry about it. How’s that going?”

  “It’s a mess. It seems that the victim’s thesis advisor has been harassing her for years, threatening that she’d never get her PhD if she didn’t have sex with him. She went along, didn’t feel she had any other choice, but finally, she decided to stand up to him and filed a report. Now the problem is that he denies it all. Says that she’s always been a weak student, and he’s talked to her about leaving the PhD program, so she’s just making these charges as revenge. Leaving us with a classic case of he said, she said. There have been previous allegations against the professor, so I believe the student. But I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get to the bottom of it and actually prove anything.”