Summa Cum Liar

by Ali Franklin

  They thanked her and started eating, changing the subject through unspoken agreement.

  “Anything new happening with the musical?” asked Nicki.

  “No, thank goodness. Rehearsals are going really well. Opening night is going to be great.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Teddy still wants to tell me about that change she wants to make to the final act, but we haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet.”

  “You think you have time to work it in?”

  Ryan shook her head. “I don’t see how. It’s just too late.”

  “Maybe she’ll let it go?”

  “Have you met Teddy?”

  Both women smiled.

  When they finished eating, Ryan moved the dishes to a small side table. She pulled her laptop toward her and started typing. “I need to send a communication to the students. Our inboxes are about to start overflowing.”

  “Maybe I should get back to my office. You going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll—” Ryan gasped. “Nicki, we have an email…from Faith.”

  “What?” Nicki rushed behind the desk to look over Ryan’s shoulder.

  “It’s the profile.”

  The message read:

  Ryan and Nicki,

  I can’t make any specific accusations based on the information I studied, but I believe I’ve developed a fairly thorough picture of the Paladin. Here are my notes. Maybe they will enable you to close some of the gaps. Please call if you would like to discuss.

  Faith

  “Okay,” said Nicki. “Let’s see what she found.”

  Ryan opened the attached file and pressed a button. A printer in the corner began to whirr. A minute later, she lifted two copies of the profile from the printer tray.

  The file was twelve pages long, separated into categories such as “Gender Markers,” “Education,” and “Likely Triggers.” Nicki shuffled through the pages, shaking her head. “This is very comprehensive. It’s too bad we couldn’t use this information to save her.”

  Ryan felt a wave of sorrow wash over her but pushed it away. “Do you think there’s enough here to figure out who it is?” she asked.

  “Let’s find out. You start on page one and I’ll start—” she shuffled through the pages, “—at the section on education.”

  For twenty minutes, the only sound in the room was that of turning pages. Ryan sat at her desk while Nicki paced. Eventually, Ryan threw her sheaf on the desk.

  “I don’t see anything new.”

  Nicki took a deep breath. “Then let’s start back at the beginning. Tell me what you read in the first few pages.”

  “Faith thinks—thought—the Paladin was likely a male, between eighteen and thirty-five years old. That doesn’t tell us much.”

  “What else?”

  “He was probably raised in an upper-middle-class family and might have attended private school, at least until college. His vocabulary suggests a liberal arts education.”

  Nicki picked up the thread. “She suggests he’s highly intelligent but may feel slighted by society. He could be trying to prove his worth or his intelligence through this scheme.”

  “So he’s hurting people just to prove he’s smart?” asked Ryan.

  “He thinks about it like a game. He’s the only one who knows the rules, so he can manipulate the players.”

  “That’s a pretty sick game.”

  Nicki’s cell phone rang. She set it on the desk and pressed the speaker button. “Hey, Kyle. What’s up? You’re on speaker, and Ryan is here.”

  “Good. You’ll both want to hear this,” he said. “Zack’s team has been tracing the Paladin’s very first message. They finally found out where the message originated.”

  “And?” asked Ryan.

  “It was sent from the computer lab on campus.”

  Ryan and Nicki looked at each other, not knowing how to respond.

  Finally, Nicki said, “That’s great, but a lot of people on campus use the lab.”

  “It may not seem like much of a win, but we’ve also learned a lot about how the Paladin covers his tracks.”

  “It doesn’t bring us any closer to catching him, though, does it?” asked Ryan.

  “It gives us an important piece of information,” said Kyle. “It means the Paladin was physically in that room at the moment the message was sent.”

  Nicki jumped out of her chair. “We can use the security footage from the building to find out who it was.”

  “Not so fast,” said Kyle. “I already checked. The security feed in the building was turned off while it happened. The Paladin even suppressed the alarm that would’ve alerted us about the system being turned off. So there’s no visual record.”

  “I can’t stand this,” said Ryan. “Every time we take a step forward we take a step back.”

  Nicki looked at her. “No, this is good. We have proof of where he was. That’s a real clue.”

  “Don’t forget that he’s in the top tier of hackers in terms of his skill,” said Kyle. “It took us this long just to trace that one message.”

  “Anything else?” asked Nicki.

  “That’s it for now,” said Kyle. “You’ll be the first to know when we find something new.”

  Nicki ended the call and looked at Ryan. “This is good information. Most good detection is just legwork, following up on every clue, no matter how small. Our next step should be to find out where each of our suspects was at the moment that message was sent.”

  “We’ve only looked at Kenn and the Wonder Twins. And Kenn…” Ryan shook her head.

  “You believe him?”

  “Kenn’s done a lot of bad things, but his crimes are usually done for social or financial gain. He’s never tried to directly hurt people before. It’s not his style.”

  “Every criminal escalates.”

  “I just can’t believe it’s him.”

  “We have to examine every possibility—before someone else gets hurt.”

  Ryan looked up with wide eyes. “Nicki, if we’d done something earlier, told him he was our main suspect, do you think Faith…” she stopped, unable to finish the thought.

  Nicki wrapped her in a hug. “No, I don’t. Faith was fighting her own demons long before this thing with the Paladin started. The best thing we can do for her memory is make sure no one else is put in that position.”

  Ryan stepped back, wiping fresh tears from her eyes.

  “Okay, let’s talk to Kenn again.”

  “It’s getting late,” said Nicki. “Let’s bring him in tomorrow. It may take a while, but we’ll wear him down. He’s just a kid.”

  She turned to Ryan. “Get some sleep tonight. We have a long day tomorrow.”

  12

  Ryan drove home that evening on autopilot, consumed with exhaustion. She readied a bubble bath and queued up her most uplifting playlist. She reached into the wine fridge for a bottle but stayed her hand. She was tired enough as it was.

  And she had a lot of thinking to do.

  After her bath, she flipped through magazines and TV stations hoping to find something that wouldn’t take much concentration. But her mind kept returning to the moment she pushed open the office door to see Nicki struggling to hold Faith’s lifeless body upright.

  She finally gave up and got into bed. She and Nicki had a lot to do tomorrow, starting with a faculty meeting. They also had a meeting scheduled with Kenn Kennedy later in the day. Their mission was critical: they had to stop the Paladin’s now-deadly scheme.

  Ryan took a few deep breaths before lying back on the pillow. She mentally gave up her search for solutions—and hoped her subconscious mind would develop few new ideas before the morning.

  An hour later, Ryan was still wide awake. She sat cross-legged on her bed and opened the meditation app on her phone. She found she couldn’t clear her mind. She walked to the living room and sat at the piano.

  She began automatically, running through scales the same way she’d done f
or most of her life. Then she let her fingers play whatever they wanted. She was amused to find she landed on one of the ballads from the musical. She played it all the way through, they played another favorite from the show.

  Eventually she had to admit playing wasn’t going to help her fall asleep. She walked to the kitchen to make some tea. She noticed her computer tablet sitting on the counter and poked the home button. Maybe something interesting in world news or politics could take her mind off of the Paladin.

  Suddenly she remembered Rick Jensen’s story was slated to go live the following day. “I hope Oscar and Rena are ready,” she said aloud. She was sure the president and the public affairs officer had crafted a plan, but she still hated to see it happen. At least she’d been able to warn them before Rick’s story was released.

  But she hadn’t been able to make the story unnecessary. She’d failed to find and stop the Paladin in time. And now her beloved college would undergo its most difficult test yet.

  Ryan stared at the tablet’s home screen. There, in the corner, was the little email icon and the red circle that displayed the number of unopened emails in her inbox. It was a large number. She laid the tablet back on the counter.

  She fixed her tea and sat at the little kitchen table. She imagined what the next day would be like: calls from parents wanting to know if their sons and daughters had been preyed upon by their professors, news outlets wanting quotes, students wanting to know how the scandal would affect their grades. And at some point, she wanted to express her condolences to Lance Cho.

  How long would the disruption continue? How long would the Paladin hold the college hostage?

  Suddenly, Ryan sat up. What was she thinking? Since when had she conceded to play defense against someone who was threatening her job, her college, her friends and their students?

  She reached for the tablet and clicked it on again. Then she pressed the email icon and composed a message to “Paladin@haverwood.edu.” She wrote:

  Enough is enough. Someone died today, and that can never happen again. Tell me what you want and I will do my best to get it for you.

  Without allowing a chance to second-guess herself, she sent the message. Then she sipped her tea, refreshing the screen every ten seconds. Just when she was ready to give up on a response, she saw the message:

  You’ve decided to engage the enemy? I’m intrigued. Did President Martinez give you permission to talk directly with me?

  Ryan answered:

  This is between the two of us.

  The reply came quickly:

  Why would I cooperate with you?

  Ryan considered her response and wrote:

  To get us all out of a bad situation. I don’t want the college to be hurt. I don’t want any more faculty to be hurt. Tell me what will make you stop.

  This time she had to wait a full five minutes before the Paladin answered:

  Don’t you want to hear about the other faculty who have disgraced the college you care so much about?

  Ryan took a deep breath and concentrated on not imagining the worst. She crafted her response carefully:

  Tell me what you want. You know I’m in a position to help.

  Ryan had enough time to finish her tea and put the kettle back on the stove before the next message appeared:

  You should stay out of it. In fact, you should be glad I haven’t focused on you—yet.

  She was unfazed by the threat, but the Paladin’s words reminded her about Faith’s profile. Specifically, it reminded her that the Paladin probably felt that people did not appreciate his brilliance. She took a different tack:

  You’ve proven you are talented with computers. You’ve also proven your ability to think a few steps ahead of us. Now tell me how to put an end to this.

  She hoped the compliments made him drop his guard. She didn’t have to wait long.

  Each of the faculty members I’ve identified is to resign his or her position at Haverwood, effective immediately. The college must guarantee to not hire them back in any capacity for the next ten years. Once I see signed legal documents and hear public announcements, I will stop.

  Ryan sat back in her chair, a hand covering her mouth. “Wow.” She stared at the screen until another message arrived:

  Is that a no?

  She responded as quickly as she could:

  Not a no. Just thinking. Who is on your list?

  This time it was her turn to wait. She stood and paced from the kitchen to the living room and back again, refreshing the tablet at regular intervals. Finally, she saw the reply:

  Herman and Jensen. Act quickly.

  The two names weren’t a surprise. Ryan thought about Rick and Bobbi. Rick wasn’t worried. In fact, he was doing his best to get the story out to the public. She wondered about Bobbi.

  She tried to stall:

  I don’t have the authority to do this on my own. Give me a little time?

  The answer was swift:

  You have 24 hours. If Herman and Jensen resign or are fired within that timeframe, I will not subject the college to another revelation.

  Ryan wrote back quickly:

  You’ll hear from us within 24 hours.

  The response was the best she could hope for under the circumstances:

  Magnificent.

  Ryan leaned back in her chair and let out a long sigh. “I can’t believe this.” She looked at the clock in the corner of her screen. One fifty-two a.m. She would have to share what she’d learned with Oscar, Victoria and Nicki first thing in the morning.

  She propped her elbows on the table and cradled her chin in her hands. Her thoughts drifted back to Bobbi Herman, a professor who’d given many years to the college and who was close to retirement. The college owed her its best effort. As far as Ryan was concerned, no one was going to pressure Bobbi to resign.

  Ryan’s fingers tapped a drumbeat on the table as she thought about the email exchange.

  Suddenly, a surge of fear slashed through her gut. This is the guy who makes things disappear! As quickly as her fingers could maneuver, Ryan took multiple screenshots of the email chain and sent a copy to her personal email address. She also sent a copy to Nicki.

  With the conversation safely stored and sent, she sat back to think about what she’d learned. The Paladin wanted the targeted professors to resign. He was willing to keep their information confidential. That was something.

  Her thoughts were interrupted as one more message appeared on the screen:

  24 hours. I will not give you extra time. I was not bluffing with Faith. I am not bluffing now.

  She wrote back:

  I’m already working on it.

  She took one more screenshot and stared at the tablet as, one by one, the email messages disappeared from her inbox. She pointed at the screen. “You may be smart, but we’re catching on to you.”

  Ryan now knew the Paladin believed he had more to tell. He was on a schedule. And he had a specific end in mind. She knew they’d be able to use this information—somehow—to close in on him.

  Her eyes drifted to the clock at the top of the screen. Fatigue washed over her. She went back to the bedroom and laid atop the covers. She was asleep within minutes

  ☐ ☐ ☐

  Ryan woke the next morning bleary-eyed and tired but rushed to get to campus. She needed to talk to Oscar and Victoria before the faculty meeting.

  On her way out the door, she dialed Nicki. “Did you get my email?”

  “I did. I can’t believe you engaged him on your own.”

  “The emails disappeared right after our last exchange.”

  “I’m glad you took screen shots.”

  “Have you talked to Oscar this morning?” asked Ryan. “I’ve been calling but can’t get through. I need to catch him before the faculty meeting.”

  “You didn’t tell him what happened last night?”

  “I didn’t want to call him at two a.m.”

  “Good luck. And don’t forget we’re meeting with Kenn lat
er,” said Nicki. “We can prep for that after the faculty meeting.”

  Ryan agreed. She ended the call and concentrated on parking her car.

  A few minutes later, she entered the Roadrunner Room, one of the medium-sized conference spaces in the SUB. It was nearly full. Ryan recognized regular faculty from each of the college’s main divisions as well as a good number of adjunct professors and lecturers. It seemed everyone was curious—or apprehensive—about the Paladin.

  Oscar and Victoria sat at a large oak table at the front of the room, a small microphone stand between them. Oscar was already speaking.

  “… and we’re doing our best to protect our faculty and our college. As you know, this threat became very real yesterday. I’d like to take a moment of silence for our colleague, Dr. Faith Cho.”

  Several attendees bowed their heads as Oscar looked into the far distance. After a moment he caught the eyes of several attendees, one by one.

  “Now it’s time to put our heads together and unmask this miscreant.”

  Victoria leaned into the microphone.

  “We want to make it clear that no one here is accusing any faculty of wrongdoing. This is strictly the Paladin, who is threatening us based on information he may or may not actually have.”

  Oscar noticed Ryan at the back of the room. He raised a hand and motioned her forward. “Ryan McCabe is here to tell us about the progress being made. Ryan, would you come up here and tell your colleagues what you’ve found so far?”

  Ryan, who’d been making a slicing motion across her throat in an attempt to get Oscar to stop calling attention to her, dropped her hands and walked to the front of the room. She moved behind the table and stood between Victoria and Oscar, then put her hand on the microphone’s power switch.

  “Good morning, everyone. There’s quite a bit to tell you. I just need to talk with Oscar and Victoria for a moment.” She clicked off the power.

  She heard sighs of dismay from the crowd and shrugged in an “I’m sorry” gesture. Then she pulled up a chair and sat facing the president and the provost.

  Pulling out her phone, Ryan read the entire transcript of the previous night’s email exchange between her and the Paladin. She laid her phone on the table and looked up. Oscar and Victoria’s faces were frozen in disbelief.