“These past few months have been special for Mr. Marcus, Stuart, as he was known to me. I think we have all remarked upon a joyful caste to his countenance, a light spirit that informed his interaction with us all. I am comforted that my friend Stuart had found something, someone special for his life. And I am saddened that he enjoyed it for so short a time. Still, to leave life loved and fulfilled, that is a gift. As Stuart’s life was to us all.
“Please join me in moment of silent remembrance of Stuart Marcus.”
The FBI agent scanned the crowd below. He ticked off on a list the people he recognized from earlier interviews, though the clutch of students was his focus. These would be persons of interest. He climbed down from the balcony to be able to see faces as the gathering broke up and filed out the door. The last was the Provost. The agent nodded his sympathy, then spoke to the Provost.
“Dr. Waldheim. I think we should start with the students who attended.”
“I assumed as much and have already prepared a list.”
“You know who was here?”
“I know most of the students by name. I could have reasonably guessed who might attend.”
“Was there anyone here whose attendance you did not expect?”
“Ahhh, I see your point. A few. If you’ll permit me to check in with my office, I can obtain their schedules. I’d like to approach them myself, to invite them to my office for the interview.”
The first few interviews with students confirmed what had been said by the faculty and staff. Most had taken the accounting class given by Mr. Marcus or had received consideration in a difficult time. The FBI agent was conscious of time passing quickly, with no significant information being added. Everyone talked about the relationship between Marcus and Stephenson, but in such terms that it could be meaningless. Certainly nothing that shed light on Stephenson’s behavior and nothing that pointed to the disappearance of the student.
As the agent and Provost were waiting for the next student to arrive, the President of the college stormed into the Provost’s office. “Have you solved this thing yet? Where’s that student and where’s Stephenson? I’ve got several important donors who want answers on this. This could jeopardize the capital campaign.”
“Who, other than ourselves, know anything about this?” the Provost demanded.
“I have you know I am well connected in Washington. I have been contacted by several members of the international community who have an interest in this boy’s welfare. I want that Stephenson arrested immediately so we can close this thing down.” The president stormed out.
“Dr. Waldheim, there’s a student waiting for you” a receptionist said as she dodged the exiting president.
“Just a moment please” the FBI agent requested of the receptionist. “Who the hell has he been talking to?”
“I have no idea. I did have some reservations about informing Mr. Worthington, but as president, he is my superior, if only nominally. He does seem to have a fair amount of information beyond what I have shared with him.”
The Provost escorted a student into his office. The student, Alex, was wide-eyed with panic when the Provost introduced the FBI agent.
“Sit down Alex. We’re helping with an investigation about some strange matters here at the college. Unhappily, Mr. Marcus’s death is one. Professor Stephenson has apparently disappeared. And another, about which I must ask you to not relate to anyone else. A student has also disappeared and we fear for his safety. I am here on your behalf, on behalf of your parents. You have nothing to fear in sharing anything you may know about Mr. Marcus or Professor Stephenson.”
The FBI agent began, “Alex, is it? Alex, do you know anything about the relationship of Mr. Marcus and Professor Stephenson.”
Alex broke into sobbing tears. The agent and the Provost exchanged glances of wonder. The Provost put a hand on Alex’s shoulder to comfort him. “Alex, whatever it is, you must tell us.”
Struggling against the flood of emotion, Alex spoke lowly, “I saw them. I saw them together.”
“Marcus and Stephenson?”
“Yes. It was at Mr. Marcus’s house. I went over to…” his words trailed off. Summoning courage he continued. “I went over to talk with them after I saw them at a bar, across the river.”
“A bar?”
“Yes, the gay bar over near the State University. I saw them there and thought I could talk to them. Professor Stephenson was filling in as my advisor, and everyone talked about them being a couple. I thought I they would listen to me.”
“About what?”
“Oh god, this is so hard. I think I am, no I know I am. I’m gay. I’ve never been with anyone, but I know it.” He broke down into tears again. The Provost put his arm around Alex, offering more comfort.
“You say you saw them at Mr. Marcus’s house.”
“Yes, after seeing them at the bar, I followed them back. It took me a bit to park my car and walk over to Mr. Marcus’s house. The house was dark when I got there, but there was some light coming through the curtains of the window that looks out onto the porch. I was going to knock, but I heard something, someone call out. Hell, I was scared.”
“I know, it must have been very difficult to seek their help” the Provost encouraged.
“Anyway, I looked through the gap in the curtains and saw them.”
“They were inside?”
“Yes, on the couch, having sex.”
“Oh, my” the Provost exclaimed.
“You’re sure?”
“They were going at it, even knocked into a table, spilling wine all over. I was angry that they were together and I was alone. I needed their help. Oh, god, forgive me. I’m so sorry. Now Mr. Marcus is dead. What about Professor Stephenson? He’s okay, isn’t he? And what student is missing? What’s this all about?”
“I’m afraid I can’t give you any information, we don’t know much. Our first concern is that all students are safe.” The Provost escorted Alex to his dorm room, reminding him of the need for discretion and encouraging Alex to contact him any time day or night with any issue. “And Alex, I know how hard it was to tell us all you did today. Thank you for trusting me. I know you are a fine young man and you will find your way. I am here for you and will try to be worthy of your trust.”
The last planned student interview opened a new line of inquiry. While he himself did not know Stephenson, he did see Stephenson pick up a student in Mr. Marcus’s car.
“When did this happen?”
“It was a Friday night, over in town. I was coming out of the café and Thibaud was standing in front. We said ‘hi’ and as I was about to leave, Mr. Marcus’s car came up with Professor Stephenson driving. Thibaud kind of winked at me and got in. Off they went. I don’t know who was luckier, the Professor or Thibaud. They’re both really hot. Oh, excuse me, I probably shouldn’t have said that.”
“How did you know it was Mr. Marcus’s car?”
“I was stuck down at the train station last year. I was coming back from break and that big snow storm hit. There weren’t any cabs and it was too far to walk in the storm. I called up the office and only Mr. Marcus was still there, everyone else had been sent home. Mr. Marcus came and got me. So I know his car. I rode in it once. He was always like that, Mr. Marcus, he’d help a guy out.”