Men Lying Dead in a Field by Schwindt Richard

Author:Schwindt, Richard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-20T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Friday afternoon

Most of my mother’s contacts were women, but Dr. Gustav Herr was a cheerful and florid exception. Not for the first time I marveled at her affinity for warm and extroverted men. I had run by his office at Georgetown university in the morning, to check in. But, at least to start, he was more interested in being sociable.

Herr had gravitated towards sixty-something corpulence, but you could tell he would have been a handsome dude back in the day. I briefly wondered if he had once been a rival for my mom’s…”

“My husband let me off the hook for tonight,” he said in a deep resonant voice, “so I would love to take you for dinner.”

Okay, probably not. Dropping that line of thought, I took him up on his offer. Aside from him almost certainly being an excellent dinner companion, I needed some kind of ‘in’ to the local (and large,) community of academic psychologists.

I hadn’t gone into this adventure with anything resembling a plan, other than vague investigation, and stirring up shit. Warren Lind’s CV had me thinking. On the surface, it was a prosaic academic curriculum vitae: degrees, colleges, publications etc. But I saw gaps, and not only gaps, but things that only made superficial sense.

For example, a year was missing. He was at this university, and that. He was on sabbatical, blah blah. But one whole year, 2003, was gone. Blank. I kept looking over the paper I had printed out, and found nothing that could explain it.

I reviewed his academic output and again, nothing. No publications in 2003 or 2004 that could explain the blank. It could have been something personal, but under the circumstances, he didn’t get the benefit of the doubt.

While I felt justified in my adventure, it wasn’t at all clear what would happen. Gus Herr was a great guy, but I mostly wanted to pick his brain about collateral psychologists on the resume, and see if I could talk to them. Get an indication of who he was, and, more importantly, his connection to Luntz and Iorg.

My hotel was classy, and close to the Potomac. I occasionally found myself in dives, but this time I had gone upscale. After returning in early afternoon, the bar called to me, and shortly after I found myself surrounded by mahogany paneling, and intense executives conferring at tables, while I nursed a shot of bourbon and a beer.

I had inherited most of my mother’s intellect, and much of my father’s personal touch and intuition. If I called some of the people Gus recommended, and connected to some of the people on the resume, I might be able to drum up a lead.

A swallow of beer was followed by a sip of bourbon. My phone rang. I had already put Gus into my contacts, but this was an unrecognized number.

“Dr. Kurelek?”

“Yes.”

The voice was low and masculine. It felt pleasant and neutral at the same time. “I would like to meet you.” Even though the content was creepy, his tone rang sincere and true.

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