“He did say the girlfriend knew nothing about his plan to kill Graves’ with the pills.” Pataki shrugged. “We’ll see. Still a lot to do before we wrap this one up. But as for the kid, he’s still shouting that the professor deserved it. That Graves stole his idea and published it. I don’t know what to make of all that, but it’s still no reason to kill the guy. I predict this kid will be going away for a long time. Whether it’s prison or the psych ward isn’t up to me.”
“Universities don’t take kindly to plagiarism. Especially not when it comes to professors. Even an accusation like that can ruin careers.” Liam glanced at Natalie when he said it and she knew exactly what he was getting at. They might have found the murderer, but Lionel’s problems might just be beginning.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The sun was low in the sky as Natalie and Liam stood on the sidewalk outside the precinct after Pataki had said a very pointed thanks for coming by and goodbye.
“Ready to go home?” Liam asked.
“No,” she said honestly.
The breath Liam drew in formed a cloud of white vapor in the cold January air as he blew it out. “What do you want to do?”
“Clear Lionel’s name before the publisher hears about it and cancels the book deal. Before everyone in his field of study finds out. This gets out and we’ll never be able to get that Mudville article published in any professional journal or anywhere.”
Liam leaned against the fender of the Jeep. “Let me ask you something. Do you believe him? Is there any chance at all he did use this kid’s paper, either accidentally or on purpose? Maybe he read it, it stuck in the back of his mind, and when it came time to write the book it just popped out. I mean, it happens.”
Natalie shook her head. “No. As far as what he told me, Lionel published his article a decade before Peter turned in his paper on the same topic. Lionel said he recognized the writing style and knew it was stolen from his own work.”
“So there you go. It’s published, years before the kid’s paper. That’s proof.”
“But you said yourself just the accusation of plagiarism can cost someone their reputation. This murder story is going to blow up. A former student killing his professor? It’s not going to be just news in New Haven. It’s going to be national. Lionel’s dead. The only person’s side the public will hear is Peter shouting accusations.”
“Accusations by an obviously disturbed individual who murdered someone,” Liam reminded.
“Still, even a whisper of suspected plagiarism is really bad for a professor. This is bad, Liam.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“Right now? I can’t believe I’m saying this but I could really use a beer.”
Liam smiled. “There’s my girl. To The Well?”
“To The Well,” she agreed.
The place hadn’t changed any, it was still too loud, too bright, too young, but Natalie’s mood had altered greatly since the last time they sat there. She felt defeated. Even Liam setting two beer mugs on the table didn’t cheer her.
“I tried something different. The bartender recommended it instead of what I usually order.”
“When the bartender knows what you usually order, it’s probably an indication you’ve been there too often.”
“It’s probably also the last time I’ll be here, if that makes you feel any better.” Liam shrugged, looking wistful.
“You’re right.” They had no reason to come back unless… “Do you think I should meet with the chair of Lionel’s department here? Explain how the accusation can’t possibly be true?”
“You’re going to tell the head of the history department at Yale you talked to the ghost of Lionel Graves and that’s how you know this Peter kid stole his work and not the other way around?”
“I don’t have to admit how I knew. Lionel could have easily mentioned the incident to me in passing when he was alive. The university can investigate it themselves. They’ll find Lionel’s published paper from all those years ago.”
“Nat, don’t stir up trouble by bringing this accusation to their attention. The university might never hear of it and even if they do, they could easily dismiss this Peter as the disturbed individual he is. Just leave it be.”
“Fine.” Scowling, she raised the mug to her lips and took a long swallow.
This brew was less bitter than the IPA they’d had last time. It was nice. Almost nutty and almost good enough to make her forget there was still threads to this mystery she couldn’t tie up.
Why did Peter so adamantly believe Lionel was the thief when clearly Peter was the one who’d taken Lionel’s work?
She went in for a second sip. It wouldn’t solve her problems, but it couldn’t hurt. She was just swallowing as someone approached the table.
