Page 32 of Nothing Watching

The deputy chancellor was a dead end, and faced with the reputation of his university potentially at stake, he’d chosen to protect it rather than talk to the police. Now, they would have to check the list themselves when the receptionist sent it through, searching for criminal records, any charges, or any negative news.

They headed out, past the reception desk, and Sierra veered off and joined them.

And, as they walked out, she said to Juliette in a low stage whisper, “Your idea worked, and she talked. I found out who the problem professor is.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Well done,” Juliette said to Sierra, as soon as they were safely outside. “Who is this professor and why is he a problem?”

Sierra walked in step beside her, glancing at her phone as they headed out of the imposing main entrance. “His name is Professor Dietrich, and he’s a German literature professor. Apparently there was an outcry recently after he was accused of harassing a few female students, making inappropriate comments, trying to persuade them to sleep with him, and even having affairs with a couple of them. They’re still ‘investigating’ it, which is why they are not willing to tell the police about it. I think the real truth is that Dietrich is the chancellor’s cousin and they don’t want it taken further. At any rate, that’s what the receptionist said.”

Juliette nodded grimly, feeling a surge of anger toward the man who had taken advantage of his position of power to manipulate and exploit vulnerable young women.

But what was the connection to the murders? she wondered. Was there one at all, or was it just a coincidence that this literature professor had a history of inappropriate behavior with students?

“Anything else?” she asked. “You’re sounding as if there’s more.”

“Yes.” Sierra nodded. “There is more. Apparently he used nasty tactics to prevent the women from complaining about him. Some threats. Nobody has any proof, though, as he’s been too clever for that.”

“The receptionist said all of that to you?” Juliette asked, feeling surprised, as they headed out into the still cool and fresh morning air.

“Some of it,” Sierra said, glancing cagily at her phone. “The rest I got from elsewhere. She gave me the basic gist, and then pointed me in the direction of a private university chat group and I picked up a couple of the messages there.”

It all made sense to Juliette. Now she could see why the chancellor’s relative was being protected, and why the deputy chancellor hadn’t been willing to say anything.

“Well, this changes things,” Juliette said, feeling a sense of excitement. “And the link to literature could be important. He might have had violent tendencies and now be acting them out, taking these threats further. We need to find out where this Professor Dietrich is and talk to him.” She glanced at the university’s main entrance. “And we should probably do it discreetly.”

They sidled out of sight of the door, huddling against the wall while Sierra looked up the professor’s schedule on her phone.

“It seems that there are no literature classes until later today. His schedule shows that he’s teaching here from two p.m. until six this afternoon,” she said.

“Unlikely he’ll be here so early, then, but we can check,” Juliette said.

“I’m taking a look at the layout here,” Sierra said. “I see that the literature department is in the university’s east wing. There’s a staff room there, and he also has a private office.”

Juliette glanced at Wyatt.

“One of us should go and check that,” she said. “Let me go quickly. Can you share that map, Sierra?”

One person on their own would not attract as much attention as a pair of cops, or a trio of investigators, and for now, she wanted to stay under the radar because it was very clear that Dietrich, and the university, were doing the same.

Juliette felt a sense of anticipation building inside her. They were getting closer to catching the killer, she could feel it. And this time, they had a name to work with.

The map flicked up on her screen, together with a photo of the professor. He had a smoothly handsome demeanor, with a short dark gray beard and longer, wavy hair. There was something in his eyes, an arrogance, that Juliette disliked instantly.

Glancing down at the map, she set off, walking around the side of the university to where she could see there was another entrance.

She slipped in quietly, trying not to draw any attention to herself. A janitor was up ahead, sweeping the corridor, but he barely glanced at her as she headed past. She heard laughter coming from a partly open door, and the delicious smell of buttery pastries emanated from the doorway.

Now, where was the east wing? She consulted the map again and turned left. It should be down here. Yes, there were signs on the doors:Literatur. She was on the right track here, in this older part of the university, with the corridors narrower and the air faintly musty.

Here was his office. The door was closed. Knocking produced no answer, and when she turned the handle experimentally—just to see—it was locked.

The main staff room was a few doors on. Juliette walked up to it and stuck her head inside. Two women looked round at her inquiringly. There was no sign of the professor here, but she asked anyway, in as good a German accent as she could muster up.

“Professor Dietrich? Is he here?”

She noted the way their faces changed. This man was not well liked.

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