With great effort Steve quashed the urge to punch the guy's lights out. He knew lack of sleep was making him irritable. He also knew that he had a tendency to let his temper get the better of him, but seriously Dr. Ignasious Schwenk would have tried anyone's patience. So far Steve had spent 15 minutes in the guy's company and that was definitely more than enough.
Having left Vicky Harris to her test tubes he had located the archaeology department – thankfully downhill, without too much trouble. He now found himself at the mercy of Dr. Schwenk, PhD in archaeology and specialist in the occult. The office was pokey and dark, shutting out the warmth of the California sunshine. The stale odour of sweat and tobacco combined with the musty, almost exotic smell emanating from the ancient artefacts that littered the shelves was pungent. Steve shuddered; the oppressive odour was starting to get to him in a big way. His insides churned queasily and for once he was pleased to have missed out on lunch. He longed to breathe in some fresh air. The sooner he got out of here the better he thought darkly.
Dr. Schwenk was currently talking on the phone, and had been for at least ten of the fifteen minutes Steve had been in the office. With ease born from years of practice Steve casually assessed the man with his detective's gaze. Leaning back in his chair, displaying a patterned waistcoat and pretentious bow tie, Schwenk swept a strand of his overly long and rather greasy hair from his forehead in an obviously dramatic gesture.
Steve sighed, he just knew that had been perfected in front of a mirror – this guy was out to make an impression. Unfortunately, with his hooked nose and feral features combined with the small, beady eyes, the overall effect made Steve think simultaneously of the Child Catcher in 'Chitty, Chitty Bang Bang' and some sort of rodent. He grinned – perhaps not the look Schwenk was aiming for. The man was currently availing the caller with a seemingly endless list of his professional accomplishments in a pompous, self-satisfied manner.
'Arrogant and insecure' Steve thought to himself with a grin, this was gonna be interesting.
Five minutes later, with Schwenk still showing no sign of ending his conversation, Steve was shifting uncomfortably on the hard-backed chair, his patience dwindling rapidly. Listening with half an ear he surreptitiously checked out the titles of the books on the shelves - 'The Riddle of the Sphinx', 'Rammasees uncovered', 'The symbolism of the sarcophagus', 'Anderson's compendium of rituals and ruins'. Steve groaned, his headache returning with a vengeance 'How many aspirins could you take in one day?' he wondered contemplating getting the packet out again. No doubt whatever the recommended dose, it wouldn't be nearly enough to contend with Dr. Schwenk.
Finally the conversation ended and Schwenk replaced the receiver. Steve let out a breath – he could get started and then get out of here. Retrieving his notebook from his pocket he looked at Schwenk, attempting to be pleasant.
'Thank you for agreeing to talk to me Dr. Schwenk' Steve began 'I realise you're busy so I'll try to keep this brief'.
Schwenk drew a pipe from his pocket and lit up 'Go ahead Detective' he proclaimed importantly, leaning back in his chair and contentedly exhaling a perfect smoke ring up to the ceiling 'I'm ready for you now'.
Steve paused getting his temper in check, refusing to rise to the sheer arrogance of the man 'I wanted to ask you about Professor David Summers' he began.
'Oh yes' Schwenk interrupted 'Terrible business. He had potential – not as accomplished as myself of course, still learning his trade, but a terrible shame all the same'.
'Still learning his trade?' Steve cocked an eyebrow 'I thought Summers headed up this Department – real hotshot by all accounts'.
Schwenk's face darkened momentarily 'Headships are purely administrative Lieutenant' he stated coldly 'nothing to do with one's academic ability. I got offered the job myself as a matter of fact – turned it down. I wanted to concentrate on my research, true scholars always do you know'.
'Really' Steve smirked cynically.
'Oh yes' Schwenk continued unabated 'When you're committed to your subject you have to make these sacrifices. Of course I've had to take on the role now – department needed someone reliable in this time of crisis'.
'Of course' Steve rolled his eyes 'So you're saying Summers wasn't committed?'
'He was a glory hunter, in it for the glamour. He was always disappearing off on digs looking for buried treasure to make his name – fool thought he was Indianna Jones' Schwenck smiled languorously at his own joke 'Left all the real work to the rest of us. We'd hardly seen him this semester, in fact he'd only just gotten back from a dig in Cairo when he died'.
'Cairo?' Steve puzzled, something rang a bell but annoyingly his mind refused to co-operate.
'Yes Lieutenant, you know Egypt - pyramids, mummies, the sphinx' Schwenk intoned impatiently, waving his pipe in irritation.
'I know where it is' Steve remarked, struggling to pin down the illusive thought 'It's just that I'm sure I've heard it mentioned somewhere recently'. He really needed to get some sleep he decided, his mind certainly wasn't functioning at its optimal capacity.
'Well you are in the department of Egyptology' Schwenck continued to patronise 'I'd be surprised if you hadn't'.
'Mmmmh' Steve replied distractedly. Frustrated he wracked his brain – it'd come to him eventually he knew, but right now he needed to question Schwenck. Taking a breath he began again 'I you know Mrs. Summers – she also works here?'
Schwenk rolled his eyes 'Oh yes' he intoned salaciously, 'the mysterious Natasha'.
'Mysterious?' Steve prompted intrigued, he'd met Natasha Summers and he hadn't found her particularly mysterious – alluring certainly, exotic no doubt, but not mysterious.
'Well I've always thought so' Schwenk replied. 'She's half Egyptian you know' he added conspiratorially, as if being half Egyptian was incriminating evidence in the extreme.
'Many people feel she gets a little too involved in her work' he continued slyly 'if you know what I mean'.
Steve was confused 'Not really'
Schwenk leaned closer and Steve was treated to a waft of his rabid breath.
'Lets just say, some feel she has a little trouble distinguishing between legend and reality'.
Laughing mirthlessly Schwenk continued 'Mrs. Summers has always believed in reincarnation, in fact that was the subject of her doctoral thesis.' He paused dramatically 'Maybe she and her husband decided to put her theories to the test'.
Steve was speechless for a couple of seconds before snorting derisively, 'Who was it you said has a problem distinguishing between fact and fiction?' he responded dryly, looking at the Doctor with raised eyebrows – god this guy was cheesy, like some Hollywood reject in a two bit B movie.
'You shouldn't mock what you don't understand Detective' Schwenk cautioned 'The ancients had powerful magics at their disposal'. He indicated the books on his shelves, the titles of which Steve had perused earlier 'There are rituals within the pages of these tomes that supposedly can unleash immense power if the right incantations are performed.'
'Right' Steve agreed rolling his eyes 'And next you'll be telling me not to walk under ladders and to make sure and carry a rabbit's foot with me at all times. Professor Summers was murdered Doctor – there's nothing supernatural about that.
'Think what you will Lieutenant' Schwenk replied 'I used to be sceptical myself, but with recent events I've found I've become something of believer'
Steve sighed, Dr. Schwenk was turning out to be a nut, but since when did that disqualify one as a murder suspect? Add to his apparent mental instability, the fact that the guy was undoubtedly jealous of Summers' academic career and obviously trying to put the heat on Natasha - in Steve's mind Schwenk was fast becoming a prime suspect for murder one.
But thinking it and proving it were two different things. From his reading the previous evening he knew Schwenk had an alibi – the Doctor had purportedly been in a meeting with a grad student, Nathaniel Johnson when the two murders had taken place. Still, Steve thought, it wasn't beyond the realms of possibility that grad students could be persuaded to lie on behalf of their superiors. May be Schwenk had something over Johnson; it was certainly worth checking out.
Leaving Schwenk his card Steve headed wearily back to the parking lot where he'd left the truck earlier in the day. Dropping heavily into the driver's seat he realised he'd have to call Tannis to get Professor Taylor's address – not a call he was relishing. He grinned to himself; Detective Archer could be pretty feisty if you got on the wrong side of her.
'C'mon Sloan' he coaxed himself 'Take it like a man'. Pulling his cell phone from his jacket pocket he dislodged his notebook. And with the notebook the thought that had been eluding him in Schwenk's office was finally grasped
'Cairo' Steve said aloud, slamming his hand against the wheel, before stepping on the gas and screeching out of the lot.