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I couldn't get him beyond platitudes.
The next three older members of the law faculty that I contacted were all
unavailable. Or that was what
their simmies proclaimed.
A professor of institutional law named Rajiv Karamchand was somewhat more
forthcoming.
Karamchand had a long narrow face with smooth tan skin and black eyes that
seemed to smile even on
the holo display, even as he was talking about Dean Smythers's death. "I'm
sorry to hear about it& I
can't say he was the most popular dean, but he was probably the most
effective. Very polite, always
courteous, but he didn't put up much with academic rhetoric. He tended to
emphasize that litigation
should be the last resort, because everyone loses&
"He must have kept in touch with some of his students, I pointed out. "Do you
have any idea who I
could contact among them?"
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"I would think& Karamchand laughed ruefully, sadly. "Of course. He didn't
have any family, and with
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his death in the fire, there wouldn't be any way anyone would know, would
there?"
"I'm afraid not.
"He could be quite forbidding, I'm sure you've heard. I know he kept in touch
with Sunjay Mohandas
and Austin Ohiri and Pamina Sulla. He was probably closest to Evan McCall, but
that won't help you&
Karamchand laughed regretfully.
"I take it that McCall was something of a scholar, then?"
"Very much so. He was at the top of his class, and his briefs on privacy are
legend. Of course, that was
one of Dean Smythers's special interests, as well.
"Were there other privacy solicitors the dean was close to?"
"None that I know of. Not that many solicitors make it a specialty.
"Is there anyone else who you might suggest who could tell me more about the
dean?"
"No. I wouldn't know where to begin.
So I thanked him and started in contacting the three solicitors he had
mentioned. Over the next hour I
managed to get all of them. That was a surprise, but not a great help, since
none of the three could really
add too much, but I took clips and wove them together, and sent the
fifty-five-second shot to Kirenga.
And that left me with a cold feeling in my stomach.
Finally, I called Chiang.
He wasn't in, but I left a message.
Then I went to work on the Super-C follow-up. I still had everything I'd
worked on before.
My numbers weren't infallible, but backtracking from the point of impact, it
was clear that the missile had
been launched into the descending orbiter from somewhere in the neighborhood
of the Hawaiian Isles. I'd
have also guessed that there was a large private yacht, registered in the name
of a dispatriate EurCom
filch through an Eastlnd subsidiary, with a single torpedo tube below the
waterline. There were dozens of
yachts continually visiting Kauai during the late winter and early spring, and
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the Super-C technology
meant there was no way to determine which had launched the missile. Perfect
cover, even from recsats.
Again, mostly suppositions, but I'd just package it and present as one
possible scenario, and offer that as
an example of why the PDF investigation was likely to take a while.
Bimstein would like it. It offered a dig at the filch, and indirectly at both
EurCom and the Agkhanate.
Incoming from Lieutenant Eugene Tang Chiang.
Accept. I flipped on the holo screen.
Chiang looked as tired as I felt, with circles under his eyes, and a short
lock of Mack hair falling across a
wrinkled forehead. "Mr. Parsfal, I don't have anything new.
"I didn't think you did, Lieutenant, but I do. There was a retired law
professor by the name of Edward
Smythers, the former dean of the UDenv Law School. He was killed when a fire
raged through his
conapt this morning. Apparently, he was well regarded, and I was asked to put
together a brief news
slot. I interviewed several people. One thing that came up twice. His closest
friend was Evan McCall,
and Dean Smythers was possibly the one man who McCall might have confided in.
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Chiang's face stiffened. "When did you find this out?"
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