After the final email with Roberta, Noah tried to go back to his fake profile, but found he couldn’t concentrate. He kept wondering what Roberta might find above and beyond all the complimentary stuff he expected, since Ava certainly had to have done extremely well. Despite Roberta’s reassurances, he worried if her questioning might somehow get back to Ava and, if it did, what effect that might have. Would Ava suspect that Noah was behind it? He doubted she would, but who was to know? For a few moments, he thought about emailing back and canceling the investigation, but then he changed his mind again. He’d wait for her morning email. Tonight, Roberta was only going to see what she could learn online.
At that point, Noah noticed it was after midnight. More important, with the feeling he had done something that was potentially promising to dispel once and for all his misgivings about Ava, he felt as if he could finally sleep. He turned off his laptop and the overhead light in the living room, pushed his couch against his broken door for an attempt at security, and went into the bedroom.
33
TUESDAY, AUGUST 15, 2:52 P.M.
For the first time in a week Noah had slept reasonably well and woke up refreshed. He attributed it to having hired the private investigator in Lubbock. Engaging the PI gave him the feeling he was doing something positive about Ava, and he was comfortable with the decision. He would have much preferred she was willing to discuss the nettlesome questions he had about her performance in her three deaths, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. Short of his hacking into the Brazos University computer system, it was the only way it might be accomplished. He justified it as ultimately being in her best interests. Just as he expected to be reinstated at the Advisory Board meeting, he was hopeful that Ava was going to ultimately accept his heartfelt apologies and let bygones be bygones. They were too well suited for each other and had been too close in mind and body for any other outcome. And the next time she voiced any thoughts about leaving clinical anesthesiology, he wanted to be sure of her competence.
At 8:00 A.M., Noah surprised himself by going out for eggs and bacon at a local greasy spoon. He’d even read The New York Times like a normal person. He’d also gotten some bread and cold cuts for a later lunch before returning to his apartment. His plan had been to finish creating his Harvey Longfellow sockpuppet and then go on Facebook to try to friend both Gail Shafter and Melanie Howard. His hope had been that, come evening, he could be messaging back and forth with an unsuspecting Ava.
It was at 2:52 in the afternoon that the reasonably pleasant day started to fall apart when his mobile phone went off, startling him. Snapping it up, he looked at the screen, hoping it might be Ava. But it wasn’t. It was the MIT Library.
“Is this Dr. Rothauser?”
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Telah Smith calling. I got a note from Gertrude Hessen that you were interested in finding out why a copy of your bound thesis had been removed from the thesis room. Are you still interested? Because I was the assistant librarian responsible for letting it circulate.”
“I am,” Noah said, impressed that they were getting back to him so quickly.
“Several FBI agents had come into the library and requested the volume, saying it was needed for a short time as part of an ongoing investigation.”
Noah was stunned. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “FBI?”
“We get occasional requests of this sort,” Telah explained. “It is less frequent now that all theses are available in digital form, but it does happen.”
“Did they have a warrant?” Noah asked. He was astounded that Dr. Mason would go to the extreme of involving the FBI. And he was even more astounded that the FBI would be interested in becoming involved.
“No, they didn’t,” Telah said. “They spontaneously mentioned getting a warrant if it was necessary, but they preferred to keep the case on a low-key basis as it was not a criminal investigation. They said that although the material was available online, it would speed things up for them to have the hard copy, and they would be extremely careful with it and need it for only a few days. I brought the issue up with the head librarian, who authorized it to be released for one week, as the library has had good relations with the FBI in the past. The two agents were very nice about it. They were very young and personable and rather handsome.” Telah laughed. “I know that doesn’t sound very professional, but the visit was a nice break from what normally goes on around here.”
“Thank you for letting me know about this,” Noah said, searching for something to say. After he disconnected the call, he stared out the window for several minutes, totally taken aback by involvement of the FBI. He couldn’t help but feel nervous about such an unexpected development, and it unpleasantly undermined the optimism he had been recently feeling about the Advisory Board meeting. The mere involvement of the FBI gave the accusation that he’d fabricated data a credibility it did not deserve.
In the middle of this new confusion, Noah’s phone chimed to indicate he’d just gotten an email. Trying to calm down, he saw it was from Roberta Hinkle. Hoping for some more comforting news, he used his laptop to read what Roberta had written. It didn’t take long for his hopes to be dashed.
Dear Dr. Rothauser: Things have not been going as smoothly as I had anticipated. First, there was no Ava London in the Coronado High School class of 2000. In fact, there had been no young woman by the name of Ava London attending Coronado High School going back fifty years from 2005. I then checked all the other high schools in Lubbock and found that there had been no Ava London for the same fifty-year interval. I then began searching high schools in the surrounding metropolitan area, where there are high schools in most of the larger towns. After considerable effort, I did find an Ava London in the class of 2000 in Brownfield High School, about an hour’s drive from Lubbock. Apparently, she was a very popular cheerleader, and took a number of AP classes, and was consistently on the honor roll. She was also a member of the student council and her father was an oil executive who committed suicide, so it sounds like the same Ava London you have retained me to do a background check on. At this very moment, I am in the Kendrick Public Library in Brownfield, and I am looking at the high school’s yearbook for 2000, which has a number of photos of Ava London that conform with the photo of Dr. Ava London on her LinkedIn page. However, a major, unexpected problem has come up that I think you should know about, especially if you want me to continue.
Respectfully, Roberta Hinkle
Noah shook his head in frustration, wondering why Roberta would not have told him directly what the problem was. As he typed a reply asking to be told the problem, he tried to imagine what the PI had uncovered. Whatever it was, it must have been surprising and off-putting. Roberta responded immediately with another email.
Dr. Rothauser, I have uncovered a major complication with Ava London’s life story. Perhaps it would be best if we talked directly as it is all rather strange.
Respectfully, Roberta Hinkle