The Venus Fix

Eighty-Six

Perez and Jordain were talking to Mrs. Johanson, the fifty-something head of the NYU library. It had been a frustrating half hour. There were more than fifty computer terminals in the library, which any student or faculty member could come and use. Plus, there were reciprocal privileges for faculty and grad students from other colleges and universities, as long as the visitor had the right credentials. In addition, there were dozens of carrels where students or faculty could plug in and use their own computers. And while you had to show an ID card to get into the library, you didn’t have to sign in.

“So, basically, what you are saying is anyone in the library on these dates could have used either their own or your computers and there won’t necessarily be a record of it?”

Mrs. Johanson nodded and her brown curls bobbed. She was wearing a cream-colored turtleneck and a pair of chocolate brown corduroy pants, with heavy snow boots on her feet that gave her otherwise small frame a solid base. “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding genuinely distressed.

Jordain smiled at her. “Not your problem, ma’am.”

“We appreciate your help,” Perez added.

The two detectives went downstairs, and on their way out walked through the high, open space. Jordain thought the library was poorly designed. You needed smaller areas-nooks and friendly alcoves-in a library. Places where you could hole up and study for the afternoon, where you’d be comfortable, have some sense of privacy and at least some semblance of silence.

“Look around,” he said to Perez.

“Okay, I’m looking.”

“You think you’d come here to indulge your predilection for porn? Nice cozy place to jerk off, don’t you think?”

“No.”

“Right. The person who sent that e-mail wasn’t here to go online and fool around and watch a few Web-cam girls while he had a free half hour. He was here working. Or doing research. Sending the e-mail from here was just convenient.”

A few minutes later they were back in Mrs. Johanson’s office.

“I’m sorry to bother you again,” Jordain said.

“It’s no bother.” She smiled. “Did you forget something?”

“No, but we do have a new question,” Perez said. “Do you think we could look through the call slips from three specific days in the past few weeks?”

“It’s a long shot,” Jordain said, “but we think that whoever sent the e-mail was here because he was actually using the library.”

“Unless you threw out the court order you showed me twenty minutes ago, of course you can. Come with me.”