Page 133 of Cross & Crown

man, but he shrugged it off. He liked her voice; it was smooth

and a little hoarse.

“Professor, do you have a moment to speak to me in regard

to the photos my officers were circulating yesterday?”

“Oh! Yes, of course, Detective. What can I tell you?”

“You recognized the man in the photo?” Nick asked.

“Yes.”

“Is he a professor at Boston College? An employee?”

“Oh, no no. He’s a writer.”

Nick frowned and scrambled for his notepad. “A writer?”

“I teach one of his books for a course. I recognized him

from the photo on the back jacket. My students ask me every

year if I can convince him to come and guest lecture.”

Nick smiled. He could see why college kids would want

to sit and stare at JD for an hour. “Okay. What course is it you teach? Literature of some sort?”

“Archaeology and anthropology. I’m afraid I’ve

misspoken, Detective; I recognized him from a book he

wrote, but writing is not his profession. See, I teach a course on pop culture, and we discuss the differences between reality

and fiction in the field of archaeology.”

“I see.”

“Expectation of the job versus the realities?”

“Right, telling them they’re not Indiana Jones,” Nick said.

“Exactly. But I try not to skew the course, so I offer readings from archaeologists and other scientists who . . . quite frankly are more like adventurers. Hiram Bingham III, Roy Chapman

Andrews, Lonnie Thompson and Ellen Mosley-Thompson,

and Mark Moffett, to name a few.”

“Okay. Scientists who are also kind of badasses, I follow.”

134

“I’m impressed, Detective, that you would know those

names. They’re rather obscure bits of history.”

“I knew the first two,” Nick admitted.

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