your name was?”
She poised a pen above the calendar.
Scarne stopped smiling. He must have misheard her.
“Next Wednesday?”
Mulgready looked at him.
“Do you have a hearing problem?”
A student in a nearby chair laughed. Scarne, who had a low tolerance for academics, bureaucracy and rude people, took a deep breath.
“My hearing is fine,” he said. “And I’m afraid I’m busy next Wednesday. I’m having my nails done. The only time I can fit Swartzy in is now.”
She grew cautious.
“Do you know Dr. Swartzberg ?”
“We have a mutual friend. Dean Regina Russell, over at Barnard. She suggested I come over here.”
At the mention of Russell’s name, Mulgready’s mouth turned down. It was an ugly mouth to start with, with a red hash of lipstick above a not-so-faint mustache. The scowl made it uglier.
“Russell works at Barnard,” the woman said. “I work at Colombia. Next Wednesday is the best I can do. Do you want the appointment or not. I’m very busy.”
It was the tone of a woman who despises any other woman who is more attractive than she was. Which, Scarne knew from looking at Mulcready, took in most of the planet. The beautiful Regina Russell was probably a particular thorn in Mulcready’s side, especially since she probably knew her boss liked the other woman. Scarne realized that the only way he’d get to see Swartzberg would be to barge into his office. And from the look on Mulgready’s face, he might have to shoot his way in. That gave him an idea.
“Well, I think I’ll just sit and wait. Maybe something will open up.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Scarne smiled and took an open chair. He took off his suit coat and draped it on the back, pulling out his cell phone. Every eye in the room took in his shoulder holster and the gun it contained. He dialed a number, pretended to wait for someone to answer, and started speaking.
“Did Rocky get out of the hospital? No. Jeez. I only winged him. No kidding? The bullet broke a bone? I bet he’s pissed. Well, that will teach him to give me lip. Tell you what. Send him some flowers for me. He’s lucky they’re not lilies.”
Scarne closed the phone. Now he waited. It didn’t take long. The students sitting on each side of him got up and left. Slowly, one by one, they all did. Soon he was the only one in the waiting room other than Mulgready, who was staring at him with an open mouth. Scarne put on his jacket. The door to Swartzberg’s office opened and the Dean ushered a young woman out. She walked past Scarne with a quizzical look at all the empty chairs. She glanced at Scarne.
“Yanks won 5-2,” he said. “Tanaka went six and struck out 7.”
Scarne had called a Major League hotline and listened to the previous night’s ball scores. The girl hurried out.
“Where is everyone, Mary?” It was Dean Swartzberg. He sounded annoyed. “You said I had a full schedule.”
Before she could answer, Scarne walked over to him and held out his hand.
“Dr. Swartzberg,” he said. “Jake Scarne. Regina Russell sends her best. She suggested that you might be able to help me.”
At the mention of Russell’s name, Swartzberg brightened. He looked around.
“Come on in.” He shot a look at his sputtering assistant before going into his office. “I seem to have plenty of time.”
Scarne turned to Mulgready.
“Josh and I don’t want to be disturbed,” he said, and shut the door in her face, which was a mottled shade of red.
Swartzberg waved Scarne to a seat by his desk.
“How do you know Regina, Mr. Scarne?”
“She is helping on a matter concerning one of her students. Alana Dallas. I understand the girl takes some classes here at Columbia.”
Swartzberg tented his fingers.
“Dallas. Alana Dallas. Why is the name familiar? Wait, I know. She’s the student who became ill. One of my adjuncts was in here about her recently. He was worried about her missing exams. I presume she is still out. Are you family? Or a
She poised a pen above the calendar.
Scarne stopped smiling. He must have misheard her.
“Next Wednesday?”
Mulgready looked at him.
“Do you have a hearing problem?”
A student in a nearby chair laughed. Scarne, who had a low tolerance for academics, bureaucracy and rude people, took a deep breath.
“My hearing is fine,” he said. “And I’m afraid I’m busy next Wednesday. I’m having my nails done. The only time I can fit Swartzy in is now.”
She grew cautious.
“Do you know Dr. Swartzberg ?”
“We have a mutual friend. Dean Regina Russell, over at Barnard. She suggested I come over here.”
At the mention of Russell’s name, Mulgready’s mouth turned down. It was an ugly mouth to start with, with a red hash of lipstick above a not-so-faint mustache. The scowl made it uglier.
“Russell works at Barnard,” the woman said. “I work at Colombia. Next Wednesday is the best I can do. Do you want the appointment or not. I’m very busy.”
It was the tone of a woman who despises any other woman who is more attractive than she was. Which, Scarne knew from looking at Mulcready, took in most of the planet. The beautiful Regina Russell was probably a particular thorn in Mulcready’s side, especially since she probably knew her boss liked the other woman. Scarne realized that the only way he’d get to see Swartzberg would be to barge into his office. And from the look on Mulgready’s face, he might have to shoot his way in. That gave him an idea.
“Well, I think I’ll just sit and wait. Maybe something will open up.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Scarne smiled and took an open chair. He took off his suit coat and draped it on the back, pulling out his cell phone. Every eye in the room took in his shoulder holster and the gun it contained. He dialed a number, pretended to wait for someone to answer, and started speaking.
“Did Rocky get out of the hospital? No. Jeez. I only winged him. No kidding? The bullet broke a bone? I bet he’s pissed. Well, that will teach him to give me lip. Tell you what. Send him some flowers for me. He’s lucky they’re not lilies.”
Scarne closed the phone. Now he waited. It didn’t take long. The students sitting on each side of him got up and left. Slowly, one by one, they all did. Soon he was the only one in the waiting room other than Mulgready, who was staring at him with an open mouth. Scarne put on his jacket. The door to Swartzberg’s office opened and the Dean ushered a young woman out. She walked past Scarne with a quizzical look at all the empty chairs. She glanced at Scarne.
“Yanks won 5-2,” he said. “Tanaka went six and struck out 7.”
Scarne had called a Major League hotline and listened to the previous night’s ball scores. The girl hurried out.
“Where is everyone, Mary?” It was Dean Swartzberg. He sounded annoyed. “You said I had a full schedule.”
Before she could answer, Scarne walked over to him and held out his hand.
“Dr. Swartzberg,” he said. “Jake Scarne. Regina Russell sends her best. She suggested that you might be able to help me.”
At the mention of Russell’s name, Swartzberg brightened. He looked around.
“Come on in.” He shot a look at his sputtering assistant before going into his office. “I seem to have plenty of time.”
Scarne turned to Mulgready.
“Josh and I don’t want to be disturbed,” he said, and shut the door in her face, which was a mottled shade of red.
Swartzberg waved Scarne to a seat by his desk.
“How do you know Regina, Mr. Scarne?”
“She is helping on a matter concerning one of her students. Alana Dallas. I understand the girl takes some classes here at Columbia.”
Swartzberg tented his fingers.
“Dallas. Alana Dallas. Why is the name familiar? Wait, I know. She’s the student who became ill. One of my adjuncts was in here about her recently. He was worried about her missing exams. I presume she is still out. Are you family? Or a
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