The Movie-Town Murders (The Art of Murder 5)

By that, Jason assumed Bern meant autoerotic asphyxiation. “Other people’s sex lives,” he remarked in a what-can-you-do tone.

“Exactly,” Bern said. “But the alternative would be even harder to believe, so…” He shrugged.

“You can’t think of anyone who might have had a grudge against Ono? Real or perceived?”

“No. Not really. I mean… She could be somewhat irascible. But we all have that coworker. That person who just has to make the day a little harder than it needs to be. That was Ono. You don’t kill people for being tiresome.”

“Tiresome,” Jason repeated thoughtfully.

“That wasn’t kind. The truth is, she was a good person and a good instructor.” He sighed, and in that weary exhalation was a long history of hanging on to his patience.

“But not good enough to receive tenure?”

“Tenure is increasingly rare and highly competitive.” Bern sounded just the littlest bit defensive. “Georgie knew her stuff. No question. When it came to anything to do with film noir or hard-boiled detective films of the twentieth century, her knowledge was unparalleled. But.”

“But?”

“Knowing a thing and teaching a thing are two different…things. If you follow.”

“Those who can, do, and those who can’t, teach?”

Bern’s lip curled. “First of all, most can’t, period. Neither do the thing nor teach the thing. Secondly, despite the current popularity of homeschooling, not everyone is qualified or capable of teaching. Teaching is itself an art. It requires more than having attended school twenty years earlier.”

“I’m not arguing,” Jason said. “Especially after the morning I’ve had.”

Bern laughed shortly. “Yes. Well, first…do no harm.”

“All the more incentive to wrap this up.”

Bern unbent a little. “Georgie was knowledgeable and articulate, but communication, especially when the objective is to teach, requires more. She wasn’t patient. Nor was she particularly empathetic. Or imaginative. Believe it or not, those traits are just as important—maybe more so—than broad knowledge or a wide vocabulary.”

“I see.”

Bern groaned. “I’m doing the very thing I didn’t want to do, which is speak ill of the dead.”

“I don’t consider your objective assessment speaking ill of Professor Ono. You’re not the first person to suggest she could be difficult.”

“Not difficult enough to warrant killing her, if that’s actually what happened. Which again, I don’t believe.” Bern threw another harassed look at the clock. “I apologize. I don’t mean to rush you, but I’ve got a lunch meeting.”

“Just one more question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did Professor Ono mention anything to you about locating a print of a rare or lost film?”

Bern looked startled. “No. What film?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t…”

Jason shook his head. “According to her grandfather, Professor Ono believed she’d discovered the existence of a film previously believed to be lost.”

“There are a lot of lost films out there.” Bern seemed to gaze inward. “Given that we’re talking about Georgie, we’re presumably talking about some kind of crime film. You don’t know anything more?”

“I believe Ono mentioned a detective film.”

Bern’s eyes blazed with sudden fanatical light. “My God. What if she managed to find one of the three lost Charlie Chan films?” His excitement faded as quickly as it sparked. “No. No, she’d have told me if she’d actually found something like that.”

“I understand she belonged to a private film club for collectors.”

Bern shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. I also wouldn’t have any information. She must have belonged to any number of film-related social organizations.” He looked at the clock again and rose. “I’m sorry. I really do have to leave. We can continue this later if you—”

Jason rose. “No, I think we’re good for now. Thanks for your time.”

“Until this is resolved, it’s a cloud hanging over all of us. I’ll make every effort to see that you have access to whatever you need for your investigation.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

They shook hands, and Jason headed for the door.

As he stepped into the narrow, shadowy corridor, he spotted Pop a few offices down, oiling the hinges of a door. Pop seemed slightly out of breath for such a non-strenuous task.

He gave Jason a long look, the thick lenses giving his face a blank, opaque expression.

Jason nodded pleasantly.

It was impossible to know for sure, but he couldn’t help suspecting Pop had been listening at Bern’s office door.