“I’ll do my best to live up to expectations,” Vince said, taking a seat. The scent of lemon furniture polish went up his nostrils and seemed to stab into the backs of his eyes. Damn bullet.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?” Buckman asked.

“Just a little background on a faculty member,” Vince said.

For the first time the president lost his smile. “Has something happened?”

“Alexander Zahn,” Mendez said, digging his notebook out of the inside breast pocket of his sport coat.

“Dr. Zahn? Has something happened to him?”

“No, no,” Vince assured him, sitting back, squaring an ankle over a knee. The picture of relaxation. “He reported a crime against a neighbor of his this morning. We just want to get a feel for who he is. Someone told us he teaches here.”

“Yes. Periodically,” Buckman said.

Mendez glanced up at him. “He’s not on the faculty?”

The president squinted behind his glasses, pained somehow. “It’s ... complicated . . .”

“We met Dr. Zahn this morning,” Vince said. “He’s a complicated kind of guy.”

“Yes. That’s safe to say,” Buckman agreed. “Zander is a genuine genius. We’re very lucky to have him in any capacity. But he does have certain ... limitations.”

“Some high-functioning offshoot of autism?” Vince asked.

“Good guess.”

“And this guy can be a professor?” Mendez said. “Here?”

“He’s not intellectually impaired,” Vince explained. “He’s socially challenged.”

Mendez grimaced as he stared down at his notebook. “I’ll say.” “Of course, you understand I can’t really discuss a faculty member’s mental health with you,” Buckman said.

“No, of course not,” Vince said. “I’m just trying to get some insights on the man. Put some things into context.”

“You said something happened to a neighbor of his?”

“A woman he was friends with was murdered,” Mendez told him. “Zahn discovered her body.”

“Oh my God,” Buckman said. “Another woman murdered? Not again. It’s not like the others—”

“No, no,” Vince assured him. “Unrelated.”

“That’s not good news either, is it? You don’t think Dr. Zahn—?”

“We don’t have any reason to think that, sir,” Mendez said. “He reported the crime and cooperated fully this morning.”

“Thank God.” Buckman sighed. “That explains why he hasn’t come in today. He was supposed to give a lecture this morning. His assistant reported he wouldn’t be able to make it, that he was terribly upset, but that he wouldn’t say why.”

“Does he do that often?” Vince asked. “Cancel?”

“Sometimes he cancels. Other times he becomes so absorbed in the subject matter he goes on with a lecture for hours over his allotted time. He’s difficult, but he’s a brilliant mathematician. The students are all aware of his issues, but his classes are always full with a waiting list.”

“He has an assistant?” Mendez prompted.