Page 356 of Sticks and Stones
He shrugged.
“I don’t know a lot about that,” he admitted. “I don’t have Dunne as a professor, or have classes with Graham. I’m a chem major.”
Gene tried.
“Did he ever mention him?” he asked.
The kid nodded.
“Yeah, he liked working for the professor. He made a little money, and got to talk about politics. That was his jam. He told me he was a great professor and nice guy.”
There was clearly nothing else. Phillip wasn’t giving them anything, and God knew he spilled a lot in this brief talk they were having.
Too.
Much.
Information.
Well, at least they tried. It was time to tug on another thread to see what they heard.
And Gene knew what one to hit.
“We saw that Graham got a scholarship through a foundation. Do you know anything about it?” he asked, digging for information.
He didn’t even bat an eye.
“Just that Graham was thankful for the scholarship. Most scholarships give the money to undergrads, but he got some as a grad student. He did say grades mattered, but Graham was super smart. He had all A’s. Some guys have all the luck.”
Yeah, he was so lucky to be assaulted, drugged, and filled with a toxic brew as he was forced to entertain sickos because they were rich.
“Did he ever meet with the scholarship committee if say his grades dropped?” Gene asked.
He laughed.
“Uh, his grades would have to drop. That never happened with Graham. Like I said, all A’s. I mean, he recertified every semester to make sure he was covered, but it was a quick lunch with whoever ran it.”
Since Phillip hadn’t given them much, other than the information about the bar, it was time to regroup and figure out what to do next.
It appeared that the three interviews that Corbin had done were over.
Now, it was time to start doing what they did best.
Investigating.
Thanking Phillip, they left the apartment, and headed back toward their car. When someone ran by them, they noticed it was Phillip.
He shouted something into the wind, and then got into an already warmed-up fancy, sportscar.
“Well, we know why he’s getting the ladies,” Gene said, “and it’s not that tiny dick energy from being a walking Syphilis pit.”
Ethan laughed.
“You’re just bitchy because he called you old. That always makes you cranky.”
“Damn right,” he stated. “I haven’t even hit my prime yet. I’ve got a good twenty years before I’m having my midlife crisis.”
Ethan was curious.
