Face of Murder

“The change might not have been completely obvious,” Zoe pressed. She couldn’t give up. Not when they were this close to getting somewhere. If she wasn’t right about this, then Dr. Applewhite could go all the way to trial. “The brain—it does not always work in the ways that we expect. Maybe he could have hidden his communication problems by talking less, going underground or something. But someone would have noticed. His personality would be different, he would be quieter. Not as able to perform at the level he was at previously. A star student, suddenly not on the scene anymore.”

“The only students that normally get referred to me by others are the ones who show signs of synesthesia. Not very many, as you might appreciate. Even when we talk about these things, it’s not normally by name.”

“I don’t even need a name,” Zoe pleaded. How could Dr. Applewhite not see that she needed her to try harder, to dig deeper? This could mean the difference between going home in the morning and staying here to await trial, if the killer didn’t strike again. “Just a hint. Someone else we can talk to who might know something. Anything at all.”

Dr. Applewhite was frowning, looking off into the distance. “What was that you said about going quieter?”

“A—a star student,” Zoe said, desperately trying to remember her exact words. “His personality would change and he would go quiet. No longer performing at the same level.”

Dr. Applewhite paused, rubbing her lips with the side of her index finger as she thought. “I… I think there might have been something like that,” she said.

“Who? When?” Zoe practically felt like she was about to leap across the table and rip the words out of Dr. Applewhite’s head herself, if that would make them come out quicker.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. It was—yes—I’m sure of it—it was Ralph Henderson.”

“The English professor who died?”

“There was a student of his, someone who showed a lot of promise. Ralph told me about how it was such a shame. He had been in an accident or something—a car crash or something like that. Ralph was thinking of recommending him for some advanced training, getting him to work on more theoretical stuff, but after the accident he retreated. He didn’t say anything about the effects on his work—given that he was teaching English, not math—or about him being unable to communicate. Just that he wasn’t so active on campus, retreated into himself, started missing lectures.”

“Do you know his name?” This was it. The million-dollar question. If they could just find him…

Dr. Applewhite screwed up her face. “Oh, god, this was a while ago… and I wasn’t even really listening at the time. Let me try to think. I didn’t get any of the details—god, what did he keep calling him?”

Zoe kept quiet, biting her tongue. Dr. Applewhite needed space to think. Zoe counted seconds, trying not to explode. If she could just keep quiet for thirty—no, maybe sixty seconds—just long enough for Dr. Applewhite to get there…

“It was… it was something unusual,” Dr. Applewhite said. She rubbed her temples, trying so hard to get there. “Something kind of exotic. God, why can’t I remember?”

“Something unusual,” Zoe repeated. “And the student, he was at Georgetown, right? He took classes with Ralph Henderson, at least for a while.”

“Yes, he must have. Otherwise I don’t know why Ralph would have been thinking about putting him forward.”

It wasn’t a whole lot, but it was something. It was a starting point. From the whole of the state down to one college, and from the whole student population of the college down to those who took certain classes. It might not get them a list of one, but it would definitely get them closer—and even if they ended up with a list of fifty, they could work through it. They could ask questions, check alibis, request medical records.

“I will call you if we get anything,” Zoe said, getting up. “Try to get some rest. By the morning, we might be putting the real killer in your place.”

She left the room and a weary Dr. Applewhite behind, indicating that she was done to the guards on duty as she dug out her phone to call Shelley.

“I have something real,” Zoe said, as soon as the line connected. “He is a student. Dr. Applewhite remembered Ralph Henderson talking about him. We can narrow it down.”

There was a groan on Shelley’s side. “Z, I literally just got back into bed.”

“This cannot wait until the morning,” Zoe protested.

“I know.” A sigh. “I just wish you had called before I took my makeup off and got changed—again. I’ll be at HQ in fifteen.”

Zoe pocketed her phone and strode along with new purpose, sure now that they were only hours away from having the killer in cuffs.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Zoe stood behind the FBI tech, watching him load up a database. The raw data from the Georgetown student list was vast, but it was the starting point. They had to go from there.