Page 193 of The Texas Sterling Collection
“He reminds me of my father. All sweet while my mother was in the room, but he would lash out at me the second she was gone. Like my dad, Dr. MacGowan always seems to simmer below the exploding point.”
“Why does your dad criticize you?”
“He wants me to work in the mines like him. He says I’m wasting time working with computers and attending school.”
“You stick to your schooling, lad. The world runs on computers.”
“Aye, sir,” Burke said.
“Has Dr. MacGowan done anything to any of the lads at school?”
“Not that I have seen, but I only see him in class. He’s so driven about this project that it’s almost scary. Mistakes are not tolerated.”
“Has he threatened anyone?”
“Not that I heard.”
“Burke, you are a big help. Best not to tell anyone what you shared with me. No reason to alert anyone else to your suspicions. Keep a low profile, but please let me know if you notice anything odd or unusual. And definitely let me know if you feel threatened. You can be my eyes and ears.”
“Yes, sir,” Burke said.
“You may go, and Burke? You did good, lad. I’m proud of you. Best not to mention anything to your dad.” O’Brien figured a bit of boosting would help nervous lads like Burke be more forthcoming, especially since there was trouble at home.
A look of relief crossed Burke’s face. “Thank you, sir.” He stood and hurried away.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tuesday morning, early. “Healy,” O’Brien roared, “I need the cell phone and landline records for Ailbe MacGowan and Declan Knowlan. I want to see if either contacted any of these students.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
A few minutes later, Healy appeared with the requested phone records.
“They’re probably not stupid enough to do anything that would connect them to the students. At least not anything that couldn’t be otherwise justified,” O’Brien thumbed through the printouts. “See if you can also get me the records for their office phones.”
“Yes, sir.” Healy turned to leave O’Brien’s office.
“Remind me to buy you a box of cigars, Healy,” O’Brien said.
“I don’t smoke, sir,” Healy said from his office. They both chuckled separately.
Thirty few minutes later, Healy appeared with the additional phone records and handed the lists to O'Brien.
He flipped through them quickly and handed them back to Healy. “Take these two office phone call lists and document the time and date they called each other,” O’Brien said. “At first glance, they communicate at the same hour every day. I may be grasping at straws, but if I can find an unusual pattern, a time when they don’t normally communicate, then we have a break in their normal routine and may have something to investigate.”
“Yes, sir.” Healy took the lists. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.”
“Thanks. I’ll buy youtwoboxes of cigars.” They both ignored that comment.
O’Brien’s cell phone rang. The caller ID displayedJames Pearson.
“Pearson,” O’Brien answered. “What’s up?”
“They met MacGowan and Knowlan,” James said. “Rod and Wyl went to the racecourse on Saturday and bumped into them.”
“How did it go?”
“From what they shared, very well. MacGowan and Knowlan were aware of the symposium and the evening lecture scheduled for this week. They congratulated them on their honeymoon.”
