Saving Face (Mount Faith Series: Book 1) (12 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Taj got a call mid morning from Bancroft while he was at the Psychiatry Center. The building was being painted—he went into several rooms, nodding silently. The men had worked fast, and worked to specifications. The place was going to be more than adequate for him and his team.

"Where are you?" Bancroft asked, he sounded hoarse and croaky.

"In the Psychiatry center," Taj replied, he was busy looking through what would be his office if he did not get the presidency. "I missed you this morning at the gym."

"I woke up really stuffy," Bancroft said, "and off key. I am not even going to go into the office this morning. I am taking the week off."

"You are?" Taj asked alarmed. Bancroft  didn't sound like himself at all. "Are you feeling disoriented?"

"Don't get doctorly with me," Bancroft said a shade of his arrogance coming back. "I am already taking orders from one…don't need any other medical type asking about my health."

Taj chuckled. "So the mighty beast has fallen?"

"Seems so," Bancroft said weakly. "One cold, and the giant is slain. So I want you…David…to run my office for me for the week."

"Me?" Taj squeaked. "Why me?"

"Because," Bancroft paused to sneeze. "You are in the running for the job aren't you? Best time to learn."

"But this is sudden and unexpected."

"You want the job? Go see what it feels like." Bancroft, sneezed again. "Oh and tell my secretary, Deanna, to cancel the meeting I had for this afternoon with the Deans of the colleges and reschedule for next week. I am going to bed." He finished weakly.

Taj looked at his cell phone when Bancroft hung up and wondered if he was in a different reality. Wasn't he supposed to be the enemy here. Why was Bancroft giving him a chance to be president, so to speak? The thought made him feel queasy.

He walked out of the Psychiatry Center giving it one last longing look before he drove to the president's building. He walked slowly up the steps and wondered if the beast statues were laughing at him. The ominous scowl of the bear suddenly seemed to have a laughing leer.

"Talk about baptism by fire," Deanna scurried beside him, a bunch of papers in her hand. "You have a ten o'clock luncheon with the Minister of Education," she said speaking rapidly. "The topic for discussion is the extension of the student loan system for private universities, other universities will be there. Dr. Bancroft had a list of things he wanted to address. The school is hosting the meeting so it can't be canceled now. It will be held in the board room on the ground floor."

They reached the top door. "If you will follow me please," she said heading to her office. "After the luncheon, there is a private meeting with Vice President Witter and a multimillion dollar investor who is desirous of making a sizable contribution to the school. He is a past student and he wants to give back.

"Oh, and Sir," she handed Taj a booklet, "you are the keynote speaker for the JTA dinner awards ceremony in Kingston. Dr. Bancroft usually has a speech prepared but this time he completely forgot. I had confirmed his presence so they have no alternate speaker. Dr. Bancroft assured me, a few minutes ago, that you will do just as well."

Taj shuddered
.
Speeches, dinners, meetings. The madness had started.

He looked at Deanna aghast. "Surely Dr. Bancroft had a back up plan if something like this happens."

Deanna shook her head. "Usually the vice president would fill in but he's swamped himself, he's pretty new to the job."

"Oh," Taj said, "Witter was the one who took Bancroft's place."

"That's right Sir." Deanna looked at him expectantly. "I am here to give you administrative assistance whenever you need it."

Taj grunted.

"How am I to reach Kingston, Deanna?"

"You leave at three. The driver will call to alert me. I'll alert you. Dr. Bancroft usually stays at the Hilton and rest off a bit then he goes to his appointments. I have already booked your room."

Taj grabbed his neck back. "Okay first things first, please reassign my classes and cancel all my appointments."

Deanna nodded. "Already done sir. I wrote out a circular as soon as Dr. Bancroft told me to and alerted the school that you were interim president for the week."

Taj turned away from Deanna and headed to Bancroft's imposing office. He suddenly felt a sickness coming on. Not influenza but fear.

Natasha twirled her short hair strands and looked up in the sky. She was lying in the little grassland park area near her dorm. It was four o'clock in the evening and already the air was biting cold. Harry was sitting at her feet with a laptop in his lap frowning at the screen. It was four days since their interview with Miranda Carlisle and four days since the time that they had returned on campus and found that Taj was the interim president.

She had hardly heard from him. He had been thrust from one meeting to another and had barely gotten the time to say hello.

It was crazy how frantic and unhappy he sounded.

"Where are we so far?" Natasha asked Harry. "Shouldn't we consolidate our findings and move from there."

Harry looked up at her absently. "I think we are missing something."

Natasha turned on her belly and glanced at her laptop. "Here is what we have. Ryan Bancroft, Anne Carter, Miranda Carlisle," she tapped her hand at the edge of the laptop. "Not in that particular order but hell I don't know. They all have motive."

Harry nodded. "Add Kellove."

"Why?" Natasha asked. "What's the motive?"

"After looking at these mails, I don't know. It seems as if they had a hot and heavy relationship for a whole year. Maybe he or she should be interviewed."

"I wonder who is Kellove?" Natasha asked.

"That's the next move," Harry said, "and we haven't really interviewed Bancroft yet."

"Let's go do it now," Natasha said. "He's sick, probably vulnerable. Maybe he'll give away some clues."

They packed up the blanket and the laptops in the car and headed to Mount Faith Drive. Bancroft lived at the very first house on the drive. His house was perched on an incline with pine trees winding around a wide driveway. The gate was opened and they drove in.

"Say goodbye to undercover," Natasha said under her breath.

"Goodbye, undercover," Harry said dutifully and grinned.

He parked the car and they got out, Bancroft was sitting on a stone bench under a tree with a dog sitting at his feet.

He opened his eyes a crack and looked at them and then closed them again.

"This is private property," his voice was raspy. "My gates are opened because of some electrical problem with it. Not an invitation for you to drive in."

"We are the police," Harry said in the tough voice he reserved for particularly difficult criminals. "We have to ask you some questions."

Bancroft laughed and then coughed. He was in a heavy sweater and a cap. The dog started growling.

"Shut up Daryl," He said to the dog sternly.

Natasha opened her mouth in shock
.
He called the dog Daryl
?
She looked at Harry who was struggling to keep a straight face.

Bancroft shifted on the seat. "I didn't do it. Don't know anybody who could have done it, and not interested in whatever it is."

"Dr. Bancroft," Natasha said, "we will treat you as an un-cooperating person of interest and handcuff you and bring you to the station for questioning if we have to."

Bancroft coughed again. "Don't care. My dog will call my lawyer when you cart me off."

"Is he hallucinating?" Natasha asked Harry.

They stood sternly in front of Bancroft, his head slumped into his chest, and then they heard snoring.

"I told him he shouldn't come outside in the cold air," said a voice behind them. "I apologize for him," it was his wife Celeste, "but he really isn't up to seeing visitors. He is very sick with a particularly virulent form of the flu, but he insists that he is fine. He was sedated just an hour ago!"

"We need to ask him some questions," Harry said harshly.

"Oh," Celeste looked at them curiously, "I remember you from The President's Ball," she looked at Natasha. "This is interesting. Were you undercover?" Her eyes looked excited.

"Yes I was," Natasha said. "This is not to be broadcasted Mrs. Bancroft."

"Of course not," Celeste said eagerly. "Let me go wake up old sour puss. The influenza really has him out of sorts. He's not used to being sick."

She woke up Bancroft, who coughed and then looked up at them blearily.

"Who are you?"

"We are the police," Harry repeated. "We need to ask you some questions about the death of Edward Carlisle."

Bancroft inhaled sharply. "He was murdered, wasn't he?"

"Yes Sir," Natasha said. "Do you know anything about it?"

"No," Bancroft said. "One day he was there wondering around the office with his vague, inept self and the next minute he had a heart attack. Really convenient I thought. I wanted the position for some time. I thought he was a waste of space." He cleared his throat. "You know why he got the job, and kept it for so long?"

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because Daryl M. Carter, chairman of the board and Carlisle were bosom bodies. They played golf every Wednesday." He coughed and stood up shakily. "I disliked the two of them," his eyes were red and watering, "and I am sorry I gave my dog such an ugly name as Daryl."

He stumbled up to the front of the house with the dog walking behind him and pushing his legs.

Celeste looked at them anxiously. "I don't think my husband would kill anyone," she said hurriedly, "I have to go and help him. Please see yourselves out."

Harry and Natasha headed back down to the school, no closer to their goal than  when they had started. They went to the library; this time because the place had become increasingly cold and the library had a central heater.

"I swear, the only thing left to happen here is for it to snow," Natasha said sitting down around the table and chafing her cold hands. "I wish my apartment in Santa Cruz had a tiny bit of this kind of coolness."

Harry turned on his laptop. "If I could I would move up here for the coolness, but we just bought a house so we have to stay put. Back to this case though. I am not suspecting Bancroft. The man is quite open with his dislikes and doesn't care who knows it, but then again that may be just his arrogance. I think we should interview him again, when he is more lucid perhaps. Look here." He pointed to an email that he had been looking at from kellove.

Natasha leaned over and read it.

August 12,  2008

From: Edward Carlisle ([email protected])

To: Kellove ([email protected])

I am tired of living a lie. I wish I could be with you now. Forever and always.

"I read that one," Natasha said. "That was a month before he died."

"But," Harry said, bringing up another mail, "it seemed as if he changed his mind. Doesn't this one sound as if they were breaking up?"

August 30, 2008

From: Edward Carlisle ([email protected])

To: Kellove ([email protected])

If only things could be different. If only we could rewrite time. I would love you, you would love me, and we would be happy. But I understand that there are some people around who don't want us to be together.

"It does kind of sound like break up or his usual ramblings," Natasha said, "but there was only one more correspondence after that."

August 31, 2008

From: [email protected]

To: Edward Carlisle ([email protected])

I will love you forever.

"Then Carlisle died four days after that," Harry said.

"How can we find out who Kellove is?" Natasha asked.

"We could get the details from the email company," Harry said, "which would require a whole lot of red tape or we could do some good old fashioned sleuthing. In the emails, it sounds like kellove is pretty near. Maybe attends this school or lives close by."

Natasha raised her eyebrows. "So we would start with the school's database then. Can you get access to that without red tape?"

Harry nodded. "Sure. I worked in Academic Affairs for a week and chatted up the secretary there. She will help. What am I looking for though?"

Natasha knocked her forehead with a pen. "This maybe a long shot, but look up students whose names begin with K-E-L. When you are done, look for professors as well. Every single one of them is important."

"And if there is no kellove in this school then what?" Harry asked.