25.
I am capable of patience, but I don’t enjoy it. And I had been standing by, open-shuttered and passive, for about as long as I could stand. I figured that Epstein probably had Alderson’s office bugged by now, and maybe his home. Being a professional detective, I had already detected that Alderson’s duties at Concord, aside from the two public lectures, appeared to be a three-hour graduate seminar called “An Alternative to Tyranny,” on Wednesday afternoons.
I hung around outside the seminar room until class ended. The ten or twelve students, mostly female, gathered around Alderson, talking excitedly with him. I waited. Alderson looked at his watch and shook his head, and the students came out and dispersed except for one woman, who looked to be in her forties. She continued to talk animatedly with Alderson for a couple of minutes before he patted her hand and nodded and indicated his watch.
She took the hand he had patted her with and held it in both of hers for a moment. Then she let go and he stood and they came out together. She was maybe forty-five, with blond highlights. She dressed well for a student, even an old one. She wore a wedding ring. And she was as shapely as Jordan had been. I wondered if her husband was privy to government secrets.
“Tonight?” she said.
“Won’t be like any night,” Alderson said and smiled. The woman’s face flushed. She giggled. She made a gesture as if she was going to take his hand, thought better of it, and touched his cheek briefly before she turned and headed down the hall.
Alderson headed down the corridor toward his office. I walked with him. He looked at me sidelong for a moment, decided he didn’t know me, and strode on.
“Professor Alderson,” I said.
He turned his head this time to look at me.
“Yes?”
“I have some audiotapes,” I said, “that I think you should hear.”
“Audiotapes?”
I gave him my card.
“Come see me,” I said.
“What kind of audiotapes.”
“They’re personal in nature,” I said.
“Excuse me?”
“Jordan Richmond,” I said.
“Jordan Richmond,” he said.
“And you,” I said.
He stopped and looked at me without any expression.
“Original recording.”
His look didn’t waver. His expression didn’t change. It was as if somewhere inside there a valve had clicked shut.
“Come see me,” I said again and walked away. “Bring cash.”
When I got to the elevator he was still standing expressionless looking after me. No affect. If I weren’t so valiant it would have been a little unsettling.