[9:15 AM, EDT, Room 142, Karellon University]

"I detest the very concept of appointments," Dr. Burrell said seriously, but with a too charming smile. He looked the agents over appraisingly before folding himself into the chair at his desk, assuming a posture of impatient tolerance. "However, I was expecting you."

Kate estimated his age to be about forty-five. He was tall and lanky, with salt and pepper hair. He had the look, Kate thought, of a less than reputable televangelist, but without the sense of style inherent in that line of work. As if the Hawaiian shirt wasn't bad enough, he was wearing sandals without socks and a bizarre dagger-like pendant on a leather string around his neck. A symbol on the pendant looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't get a good look at it without moving closer, and to be honest, he was already making her uncomfortable even at a distance.

"I suppose that will have to do," she said. "Can you tell us..."

"I presume that this has something to do with the recent events on campus," Burrell interrupted. "If so, we can conclude this interrogation rather quickly, because there is nothing I can tell you."

"Is that because you don't want to or because you don't know, Dr. Burrell," Sandra asked.

"Ramon, please," he said. "There's no need to be formal here." He paused a moment to think, folding his hands as if in prayer and tapping his lower lip with his thumb. "Have you ever considered," he went on thoughtfully, "what it really means to know something. There are so many possible interpretations of that word... To know, as in simple awareness is quite a different concept from to know, as in having an intimate, working knowledge of something."

Kate and Sandra exchanged a quick glance.

"Dr. Burrell, did you know any of the dead or missing girls, in either sense," Kate asked, keeping most of the sarcasm out of her tone.

"I would imagine that some of them have taken my class," Burrell said, either missing or ignoring the implication of Kate's question. "As you've seen for yourselves, my classes are quite popular. I could check my records if you really think its important."

"Please do. Do you specifically recall having any of them in your classes?"

"I see a lot of students. Although I wish I could get to know each of them, that simply is not possible."

Kate raised an eyebrow. If nothing else, Burrell was very good at evading questions. Her opinion of him dropped from sleazy televangelist to sleazy politician, though the distinction was a vague one. She couldn't help wondering if he had trained Megan. Or perhaps it was the other way round.

"And do you know a student by the name of Tara Craig?"

"The name is familiar."

"Familiar in what context," Sandra asked.

"I can't say for certain."

"In addition to teaching several classes, you also serve as an academic advisor. Is that correct," Kate asked.

"I do not teach, Agent Calloway," Burrell said. "I am not here to hold a student's hand and make certain that they absorb the information. It is my responsibility simply to impart my knowledge and if the student chooses to accept that knowledge..."

"I fail to see the distinction," Kate said, cutting him off. "Do you or do you not serve as an academic advisor?" Burrell opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off again. "A simple yes or no answer will suffice."

"Yes."

"Is Tara Craig one of the students whom you advise?"

"I would have to check my records."

"Where were you yesterday between the hours of two and four in the afternoon?"

"Now, that is a difficult question to answer. The presumption that time truly exists as we experience it, in a linear progression from one moment to the next, is a Western concept that..."

Kate tuned out most his response, waiting for him to finish what he wanted to say. "Be that as it may," she said when he finally finished speaking, "we have to fill out our reports using linear time as a measurement, so if you would just answer the question. Where were you yesterday between the hours of two and four in the afternoon."

"In my office. Meditating. Alone."

*****

"Remind you of anyone," Sandra said as soon as she and Kate were out of the lecture hall.

"The hellcat of Delta Pi. What do you want to bet she was his star pupil?"

"No bet. I'd say its a sure thing. Suppose he'll ever get around to 'checking his files'?"

"Oh, he will," Kate muttered. "Or we'll get a warrant and check them for him. That little threat should light a fire under him. Or maybe we should just do it anyway."

"Nice idea, but on what grounds? Being an eccentric jerk isn't a federal offense."

"It should be."

They emerged from the building into the visitor's parking lot. Finding the Taurus, Kate stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the car.

"What," Sandra asked.

Kate pointed at the rear tire, or more accurately at the Rhino Boot attached to it. "Looks like we're not going anywhere for a while."




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