Chapter Nine
“I think I’ve already figured it out,” Alex said. “You’re investigating Georgie Ono’s death.”
Jason smiled wryly, picked up his glass. “Good guess.”
He’d been to the Tuck Room Tavern a few times, and he’d always liked the idiosyncratic sports-bar-meets-Alice-in-Wonderland vibe. Fancy animal portraits hung over green booths, and enormous diamond-shaped chandeliers illuminated pillars of animal mosaics made from books. A bank of TV screens glowed over the glittering rows of liquor bottles so that patrons could conveniently shout insults at their favorite teams from the bar itself.
Alex had been waiting when Jason arrived, and they were now seated in a snug booth near the windows overlooking the busy street outside. Alex, dressed in calculatedly ripped jeans and a black Orca in Japan woodblock T-shirt, was drinking a pickle jalapeño whiskey sour. Jason played it safe with the Fear.Movie.Lions Double IPA.
Alex said, “Not really. I can’t think of anything else in UCLA’s recent history that might grab the attention of the FBI Art Crimes Team.”
“I’m not sure Ono’s death qualifies either,” Jason admitted.
“Really? I figured…” Alex let that go.
“What?”
Alex shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just a rumor. A while back, she supposedly went to the FBI over something suspish.”
“Suspish?”
“Suspicious.” Alex’s guileless blue gaze met Jason’s. “Maybe something to do with film piracy?”
“Where did you hear that?”
Alex looked vague. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think Georgie was shy about sharing that kind of information.” He sipped his drink.
Jason considered Alex dispassionately. He liked him, and he was Charlotte’s friend and client. It wasn’t unusual for people to conceal information from law enforcement, and the fact that Alex was hedging didn’t mean anything more than he wasn’t comfortable blabbing to the feds.
“Did you know Georgie well?”
“No. And I don’t have any opinion on whether her death was accidental, suicide, or, I guess now, murder. I just know when my time comes, I don’t want cops and reporters snooping through my life.”
“Amen.” On that, Jason could wholeheartedly agree.
Alex regarded him for a moment, gave a funny smile. “You really do look different. I couldn’t believe it was you when I saw you this morning.”
“Not different enough.” Jason was rueful.
“It’s your eyes. You have really striking green eyes.” Alex added, “I spent a lot of time gazing into them the night of your birthday party.”
“Aw. Shucks.” Alex was handsome, smart, and good company. No way was he sitting home Friday nights mourning what-could-have-beens.
“Hey. No lie.”
Jason figured they had best stick to business. “There’s no indication of murder. The family’s still struggling to accept the coroner’s verdict. I’m hoping I can reassure them that there were no irregularities in the investigation and no shortcuts.”
Alex looked unconvinced. “People are going to believe what they want to believe, right?”
“To an extent. But it was their idea—well, the grandfather’s idea—to bring the Bureau in.”
“He’s a former senator? I guess that carries some clout.”
“He’s still got some clout,” Jason conceded.
Alex took another sip, said, “It’s weird to think someone you know was murdered.”
Tell me about it.Equally weird to think someone wanted you dead. Not that Kyser necessarily wanted Jason dead. It was hard to know what he did want. Safe to say, nothing good.
“So again,” Jason was painstaking on this point, “there’s no indication that Georgie Ono’s death was a homicide.”
“But you’ve only started the investigation.”
“There was a thorough investigation after her death. This is largely a courtesy to the family.”
“An FBI investigation seems especially courteous.” Alex’s bright blue eyes studied Jason with curiosity.
Jason shrugged. “Georgie’s grandfather was a two-term senator.”
“Our paths didn’t cross a lot. Different faculties. She wasn’t popular. I can tell you that much.”
“No?”
“No.”
“I heard a group of students were trying to sue her over the LGBTQ content of one of her courses.”
“Right. The Celluloid Closet. A title she cribbed from the film, by the way. But despite that bullshit lawsuit, she wasn’t particularly controversial.”
“She’s been described to me as a difficult personality.”
“Definitely.” Alex met Jason’s gaze. “She was opinionated and outspoken.”
“That can’t be a rarity on a college campus.”
“No, but a lot of her opinions were not popular ones. Were not socially approved by the interest groups who would, in theory, be expected to support her.”
“Ah. Like?”
“She was pretty conservative. Politically, not socially. She had no hesitation bringing her views into the classroom.”
“Again, that’s the college experience, isn’t it? Being exposed to different viewpoints. Ono expressing her political and social views can’t have come as a novelty.”
“True. The thing is, we live in a social media world, and she was actively hostile to the idea of social media. In particular—well, according to legend—answering a cell phone once you walked through the door of her classroom was an automatic fail.”
Cell phones weren’t social media. Alex had changed course mid-sentence. Was he referring to Ono’s online squabbles on gaming sites and discussion forums? Or something else?
“Social media like YouTube?” Jason suggested.
Alex sipped his cocktail. “Probably.”
“YouTube because of its historic role in film piracy?”
“Georgie was outspoken on the subject of piracy, sure.” Alex’s tone was carefully neutral. “But you already know that.” It was part question, part fishing. Alex was right to assume Jason would have heard all about Ono’s accusations against Eli Humphrey.
“Sure. I know she published a couple of papers on the connection between film piracy, organized crime, and terrorism.”
“I can’t say it’s a conversation we ever had. In my opinion, cams—bootlegs—played an important role in film preservation. But honestly, in the larger scheme of things, I think the real problem was Georgie had a messy personal life which overflowed into her professional life. That gave the administration ammunition to go after her.”
Why would they want to? But Jason didn’t ask the obvious question. He had other avenues to pursue that information. Alex had brought up a much more intriguing line of inquiry.
“It does sound like her relationships were complicated. Did you ever meet the girlfriend?”
“The indie director with the lungs of an opera singer?”
“Huh?”
“Not formally. She crashed into me once when she was fleeing Georgie’s office. They’d been having a screaming match that made Bette v. Joan sound like a tea party.”
Bette v. Joan? Oh. Whatever Happened to Baby Jane.
“But you must know Professor Bardolf?”
“Balthasar?” Alex’s smile was sardonic. “Oh yeah. I know BB pretty well. What did you think of him?”
Jason recognized the attempt to divert the conversation, but also knew Alex was getting tired of being questioned and starting to regret agreeing to meet.
“I haven’t met him yet.”
“You’re kidding. He probably knew Georgie better than anyone. Seriously. If you want to know about Georgie, he’s the guy to talk to.”
“I plan to. They were together a long time?”
“Define together.” Alex grimaced. “I think it was one of those can’t-live-with-’em-can’t-live-without-’em relationships.” He added hastily, “BB is not a violent guy. I don’t mean that.”
“Right. Sure,” Jason said easily.