Do or Die by Barbara Fradkin Page A

trails grow stale very quickly.”
    Ice blue eyes appraised him from behind shaggy white brows, then Halton bobbed his massive head. “Very well, let’s get on with it. I want to visit Marianne Blair tonight.”
    It was very smoothly done, the delivery beyond reproach, but this time the message was unequivocal: “I move in the same circles as the country’s elite, sonny, you remember that.”I’ll be the picture of respect, asshole, Green replied inwardly and put on his breeziest smile. “I shouldn’t keep you more than an hour, sir. Shall we start in your office?”
    Inside his office, Halton chose to sit behind his mammoth mahogany desk, flanked by his degrees, which left Green the hard-backed student’s chair opposite. Looking up at the icy eyes across the desk, Green realized he had made a tactical error. To regain control of the interview, he had to alter the power balance. Rising, he walked to the window to study the view of the canal and the Château Laurier which glistened in the rain-slicked evening light. Halton was forced to swivel his chair and look up at him.
    From his vantage point, Green tried for the grave and humble look. “To minimize the inconvenience to you, sir, I won’t go over the routine ground which my detectives covered earlier. Instead, I’d like to clarify some inconsistencies which have emerged in the investigation. First of all, what was Jonathan Blair working on?”
    â€œIt’s highly technical, Detective. And hardly relevant, I can assure you.”
    The grave and humble tone never wavered. “I’m sure you’re right, but I’m trying to fill in his last few weeks. He seemed to be working very hard, and a few people thought he had run into a snag in his research.”
    â€œSnags are commonplace in technical research. In fact, ironing out the kinks in the methodology is often the major part of original research. Jonathan was a hard worker, and when it came to problems he was like a dog with a bone. He would forget all else.”
    â€œDid he seem upset or preoccupied to you?”
    â€œI hadn’t seen him in a few days, and I don’t babysit my graduate students.”
    â€œHe tried to make an appointment with you yesterday morning. He seemed upset then.”
    Halton shrugged. “Then you know more than me, Detective. I wish I could be of more help.”
    Green pretended to study his notes while he let the silence lengthen. “Was he working with cats or humans?”
    â€œCats.”
    â€œWhat were Joe Difalco and Dave Miller working with? Animals or humans?”
    Halton seemed to pause, and a frown flickered across his face. “Humans.”
    â€œDid their research have anything to do with Blair’s?”
    â€œWell, it all fit together. We were all checking out facets of language or auditory processing.”
    â€œWould Blair have reason to share his data with the other two? Would his data on cats be of any use to—say, Difalco?”
    Halton scrutinized Green with a long, level gaze. “What are you getting at, detective?”
    Green left the window to return to his student’s chair. The power shift had been achieved, and now it was time to enlist the professor’s help. He spoke softly.
    â€œProfessor, I don’t mean to imply one of your students killed Jonathan Blair, but I believe something unusual was going on. I know police investigations are very intrusive, and it’s uncomfortable to have your whole operation under a microscope. But everything I learn will go no further than my own notebook, not into the file or into my reports to superiors, unless it is relevant to the murder. And I will never be able to distinguish what is relevant from what isn’t if I don’t have the whole picture. So please bear with me on this.”
    Halton had been watching him carefully, but now he lowered his gaze. “What have you been told so