In the Shadow of Gotham - By Stefanie Pintoff Page 0,71
whatever benefit it might produce for scientific advancement, created a troubling effect upon Fromley’s ego. He came to feel self-important as a result of having educated men hanging upon his every word, working full-time just to try to figure him out.”
“I suppose that makes sense. But since we cannot conclude beyond a reasonable doubt that Fromley did—or did not—kill Moira Shea, I have a dilemma regarding Alistair.” I looked at the mass of material that fully obscured Tom’s desk. “There’s not enough hard evidence here for me to tell the city police and expect to be taken seriously—especially since it involves a killing that occurred over three years ago.”
Tom’s mouth formed a grim, hard line. “And it would destroy Alistair’s reputation. I’m sure you’re aware of that.”
I said evenly, “My only concern is what will best help us solve the Wingate murder—and prevent another one like it. If I report Fromley’s link to a past crime, within the city’s jurisdiction, the detective bureau would at least offer us additional resources. But we would also have to deal with political posturing and the press—both of which may hinder our ability to track down Fromley.”
We debated the issue for the better part of the next half hour, back and forth, until at last we came to a resolution. Tom remained concerned with protecting Alistair’s reputation—a view he frankly acknowledged to be self-interested, given his own affiliation with Alistair and the research center. But together with my own concerns about third-party involvement, we reluctantly agreed to keep the matter to ourselves, at least for now.
“This is only because I think undue attention to Alistair’s lapse in judgment would undermine our efforts in the Wingate case,” I said. “Yet, to what extent do we continue to involve Alistair?”
“You mean you would consider ending the association?” Tom seemed genuinely shocked, despite the matters we had just discussed.
“Absolutely,” I said. “I do not trust him. From reviewing this evidence”—I gestured toward the stacks of paper on Tom’s desk—“I know the allegations involving Fromley are questionable. The Fromley confession is of dubious value, and Alistair strenuously denies using undue influence in the Smedley case. But it doesn’t change the fact that Alistair put his own research above and beyond all other concerns. Can you honestly tell me otherwise?”
“That judgment is one only you can make,” Tom replied frankly. “I believe the ethical line Alistair may draw is different from your own. But such differences, while hard for you to understand, may not be unethical. I have no doubt that compelling evidence would have convinced Alistair to turn Fromley in. But lacking that, he chose to continue as before.” He paused a moment. “You know, he’s not as unsympathetic to your priorities as you seem to think.”
Something about his tone was odd; I looked sharply at Tom. “What do you mean by that?”
“Alistair has been a criminal law professor for his entire career. But it was simply that—a career—for the longest time. It occupied his days, earned him the respect of family and friends, and”—he smiled slightly—“permitted him free time to pursue more social interests. Criminology did not become his passion—his obsession, really—until his son Teddy was killed.”
“Killed?” I asked sharply, recalling how Isabella had stiffened at the mention of Teddy’s name. “I had heard only that Theodore Sinclair died tragically while traveling in Greece.”
“Not exactly,” Tom said. “He was killed during a robbery. Teddy, just like Alistair, believed he was invincible.” He added, “When he was robbed, he fought back. He might have lived otherwise. The loss—and some unsettling circumstances surrounding it—affected Alistair profoundly.”
And Isabella, I thought, feeling a surge of sympathy for her. Some people would say a young man who died too young was simply that—no more, no less. But I knew better. Murder was different.
“After Teddy’s death,” Tom continued, “Alistair became driven to understand why. He wanted to learn everything he could about the motivation and point of view of people who commit crimes, especially those who kill. On a personal level, he needed to know; and intellectually, he also believed that if we learned more, then the disciplines of sociology, psychology, and law could do more to prevent the criminal mind from developing in the first place. Or, at the least, we might arrest the path of the criminal mind’s development early on and redirect it. Rehabilitate it, in Alistair’s terms.”
Tom paused a moment to let me digest this information. “I tell you this much, to help you understand, but this is Alistair’s