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Was Monsieur Doesn’t Matter supposed to leave? He’s not here anymore.
CHAPTER 51
“Yes, Mr. Fillmore made a sizable donation,” said the Dean of Macdonald Campus. “That much is public knowledge since it’s in our annual report.”
She gestured for them to enter her office. It was a spacious, comfortable room with a picture window overlooking the vast campus.
Dean Napier sat on the sofa while the two Sûreté officers took the armchairs.
“To be honest, the donation was a surprise since he didn’t graduate from here and, as far as we know, never visited.” She smiled ruefully. “I guess I’m jaded, but I expected to hear that in exchange for the money he wanted an honorary degree. That’s generally the ask.”
“But it wasn’t?” said Beauvoir.
“No.” Now she sat forward, no longer smiling. “Can you tell me what this is about? Our donations are reported, but our relationship with donors is confidential.”
This was what Beauvoir and Lacoste were afraid would happen. That they’d run up against bureaucracy and a Dean with inconveniently strong ethics.
Without a warrant, they couldn’t insist.
Since the death, the murder, of Brian Fillmore wasn’t yet public, they didn’t want to let that out.
“I’m afraid we can’t tell you,” said Lacoste. “Just that our questions are pertinent to an investigation.”
“Well, you’ll have to ask Mr. Fillmore himself. I’m sorry. I would have liked to help. What he asked for is actually quite interesting.”
“We can understand that your relationship with your living donors is confidential, but what about someone who donated to the college more than a hundred years ago?” asked Beauvoir.
Dean Napier’s eyes sharpened. “Who do you have in mind?”
“A Miss Daisy Wolcott.”
She smiled, very slightly, but it was there. “I see.”
Lacoste leaned forward. “Did Monsieur Fillmore also ask about her?”
“Now you’re putting me in a difficult position.”
“All right,” said Beauvoir. “Let’s try another way. Did Miss Wolcott make a donation to your college?”
“She did.”
“Can you tell us what it was?”
“Mostly papers. She was, I understand, a collector of rare plants. She documented them and donated what she found to us. Not the plants but her notes.”
“Why Macdonald College?”
“I have no idea. As far as I know, she had no relationship with us.”
“The fact you know about Daisy Wolcott, and what must by now be an obscure donation more than a hundred years ago, tells us that someone else asked recently. Was it Brian Fillmore?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t say.” Though in not saying, she actually told them.
“Can we see her papers?”
“I think it best if you speak to our head of plant sciences about that.”
As they followed the Dean through the corridors, Beauvoir nudged Lacoste. There, on one of the office doors, was the nameplate Dr. Aimée Lagacé.