“You’re here now and that’s all that matters. I’m going to be late, so gotta run. Make sure you turn off the computer before you go. We need to be sure the college’s records are safe.” He bent over the seated Cal and kissed him goodbye, even though they would be in adjacent buildings all day and would surely be back together for some time in the gym later in the afternoon.
***
Winter’s coming was heralded by passing flocks of geese, frosty mornings and the falling of the last leaves. Stu and Cal warmed the home of Mr. Marcus. Stu had come to be Mr. Marcus’s only personality, though he was still addressed by all as Mr. Marcus, with the exception of the Provost and Cal. The college had come to accept Stu and Cal as a couple, the relationship as normal as any on campus and demonstrably more affectionate. They tried to meet each day for a few short moments on what they came to call ‘their bench’.
Cal made a few more weekend trips and Stu fretted until his return, lost in the solitude for two days, a reminder of how he had lived for years. The sun of their relationship shown again upon Cal’s return and the time alone was quickly forgotten.
One chill morning, as they lay in each other’s arms, calming down after a morning session of loving, Cal suggested they skip the gym that day and have an early dinner. There was a good movie on the television and they could make out by the fire. Stu thought he could get away early and agreed to the tryst. Cal volunteered to go into town to get a few things for dinner, his entire afternoon being free.
Stu walked to the campus, still treasuring the feeling of their loving, warm and deep in his body. He wondered if people could tell what he and Cal did together. They’d never know how it made him feel, he thought. Anyone seeing his face would know well how he felt.
He went to the office as usual and set about his usual duties. He sat at lunch with other faculty members of the Economics Department. He was now comfortable considering himself one of them. They asked after Cal, he not lunching with them. Stu assured them of his well being. The afternoon passed slowly as Stu anticipated the afternoon with Cal. A frequent erection kept him behind his desk much of the time. He managed to collect himself enough to dash out in time to meet Cal.
As he walked through the failing light of the afternoon, he was surprised to see a car in his driveway. Four men were in the process of getting in, not having found anyone at home. As he hurried closer he recognized the Provost and waved a greeting. A worried look was returned. The Provost walked to meet him, the look intensifying. Stu felt a chill of foreboding. The men produced badges and identified themselves a agents of the FBI.
“We’ve been looking for you, Stuart. It’s fortunate that you came along” said the Provost.
“What’s this about?” Mr. Marcus was confused.
“We need to ask you some questions.”
“Perhaps we could go inside?” suggested the Provost.
“Of course, gentlemen, come inside.”
“May we look around?” asked the lead agent.
“Certainly, gentlemen, but I can’t imagine what you’re looking for.”
The Provost and Mr. Marcus sat in the living room while the FBI agents moved around the house.
“This the only computer?” asked an agent indicating the desktop in a corner of the living room. Without waiting for an answer he began to dismantle the computer, taking the CPU and modem out to the car.
The agents addressed each other from the bedrooms. “Hey chief, this place looks like it’s been scrubbed by pro’s. We won’t find any evidence here.”
“Oh, my house guest has a thing about cleanliness. I thought I was a good housekeeper until he came along. The bathroom positively gleams. I admit I let him do it.” Mr. Marcus said lightly.
“And your ‘house guest’ as you called him, where is he now?”
“I expected Professor Stephenson back by now.”
“Mr. Marcus, have you accessed student records on this computer?”
“Certainly not” he replied fastidiously. “I am told that the system security is top notch, but I’ve never been comfortable accessing privileged information outside my office in the administration building. We are entrusted with a great deal of confidential information and I honor that trust.” Mr. Marcus then paused and said thoughtfully. “There was one time when Cal, Professor Stephenson asked me to log on, but that was just to check some reports or papers related to his position in the Economics Department.”
“When was that?”
“About a month or so ago, yes before Thanksgiving.”
“Did you allow Stephenson to access the system using your id often.?”
“No, that was the only time. Dr. Waldheim, I realize it is technically a breach of security procedures, but I cannot believe anything untoward of Cal’s accessing the system. He was trying to get some work done from here. It’s unimaginable that this requires the attention of the FBI.”
“Unhappily, Mr. Marcus, student records had been reviewed on this computer and one of those students disappeared a few days ago.”
“I think it’s preposterous to suggest that Cal had anything to do with that.” Mr. Marcus was indignant. “He has always had the welfare of students paramount in his mind. He could never do anything to harm a student or anyone else, for that matter.”
“Nonetheless, Mr. Marcus, we must thoroughly investigate every aspect related to the student and his possible abduction. It is inordinately suspicious that your computer was likely used to gain information about the missing student and that your home has been cleansed of fingerprints and traces of human occupancy typical in even the most fastidious house.” The agent’s cell phone rang. “What? The office, too? Damn. Stephenson’s office has been stripped, too. Well Mr. Marcus, what do you say to that?”
Mr. Marcus sought the Provost’s face for some sign of reassurance. Finding none, he fell into despair. Could Cal, the man he loved, be guilty of such a horrific crime? That surely was not possible, and yet, where was he? And what was behind his excessive cleaning? And why had he cleaned this morning?
“Mr. Marcus, it’s routine to take samples of DNA for validation and testing. With the way things have been ‘tidied up’, we’d appreciate any suggestions on your part as to how we might obtain some. You seemed to know Stephenson well.”
Mr. Marcus felt again the feeling deep in his core that served as a reminder of his making love to Cal. The blood drained from his face.
“Stuart, if there is anything, anything at all we can do to help this investigation, we must do it. There is a student out there whose very life is at stake. Please Stuart, you have to help” the Provost pleaded.
Mr. Marcus looked at his shoes. He began to speak quietly. “This morning, Cal made love to me. We haven’t been using condoms for some time, since we’ve been cleared of any possibility of disease. His semen is still inside me.”
The senior FBI agent was on the phone immediately. “Get me a proctologist, now. There’s got to be one at the local hospital. Never mind why, get one and an examination room. We’ll bring in the subject. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes to get there. Now move!”