Jamie Brodie 02 - Hoarded to Death

Huffstetler. Conrad was an institution at UCLA. He wasn't old, only in his late 50s, but he had that air of gravitas that made him seem older. He was as tall as me, but Abraham Lincoln thin, and dressed like an undertaker – dark suits, bright white shirts, and skinny dark ties. His wife was a "nutritionist to the stars," and specialized in the Paleo diet. Conrad always had a big bag of fruit, nuts, and berries stashed in the staff refrigerator and kept jars of roasted seeds on his desk. When I stuck my head in his office, he waved me in.
    "Jamie, hello! I saw your name on the log from yesterday. Is there something I can help you with?"
    "I think so." I sat down and accepted the offer of a handful of pumpkin seeds. "I was looking at the Book of Kells facsimile." I gave him a very abridged version of the events of the weekend, leaving out names and details. By the time I finished, he was goggling in disbelief.
    "So I just wanted to show my partner what the book looked like, so he'd see the similarity in the piece of paper the dead guy was holding on to."
    Conrad shook his head. "And the torn section looked like the Book of Kells?"
    "It did, but it could have been something else. I'm certainly no expert."
    "How interesting." Conrad considered. "Did this junk worker seem like someone with knowledge of illuminated manuscripts?"
    “No, but I guess appearances can be deceiving . But he had to have been working with someone."
    "Indeed. Do you suppose the police will be contacting me?"
    "I don't know. It's very possible. I expect they'll be talking to anyone who might be able to help them figure out whether this piece of paper is worth anything or not."
    Conrad nodded. "Well, I appreciate you telling me about this. If the police do call, it won't come as quite as much of a shock."
    "Right. And something else occurred to me. You might want to be on the lookout for someone wanting access to the Book of Kells facsimile who doesn't seem - um - appropriately academic? Depending on who the dead guy's partner was, he or she may want to take a look at ours for some reason?"
    Conrad rubbed his hands together with delight. "Oh, the intrigue! I shall use extra care in vetting our scholars over the next couple of weeks."
    " Heh. That's great, Conrad. Thanks." I said goodbye, and left with another handful of pumpkin seeds. They were actually pretty good.
    The rest of the day flew by. Pete and I were meeting at Kevin and Abby's apartment in Westwood – my former home – for dinner at 6:00. When I got there, Pete was already there. He and Kevin were on stools at the kitchen bar, eating carrot sticks. I went into the kitchen itself and hugged Abby. "Do you need any help?"
    "Nope, it's under control and almost ready. Grab a beer for yourself."
    I did and kissed Pete hello. He grinned at me. "Hey, you. Hard day?"
    "Nah, not bad for a Monday. Busy, though."
    "I've been filling Kevin in on the events of the weekend."
    I looked around Pete at Kevin. "Yeah, pretty bizarre, huh?"
    Kevin shook his head. "Unbelievable."
    Pete jumped back in. "We were just talking about who might have known about Jennifer's collection."
    Kev shook his head again. "It's hard for me to imagine Jennifer telling anyone about it. She didn't talk about her hoarding to anyone."
    I nodded. "She told us before the clean that no one that she worked with knew anything about her problem. She has friends at work but she'd never let an y of them come to her apartment."
    Pete spoke up. "I wonder if it's someone related to the old woman who gave Jennifer those boxes. Maybe they already knew the dead guy - but they could easily have had prior knowledge of anything valuable that might have been in those boxes."
    “But Jennifer told us that Miss Lucille didn’t have any relatives.”
    Kevin said. "I don't know Eckhoff very well, but Belardo is a bulldog. They’ll get it all sorted out."
    "But they’ll need help. Belardo said he was going to contact the art theft unit to see if they could tell him who could authenticate the page."
    "Right. And that will be someone at the university, I'd think."
    "Most likely. I talked to our special collections guy today. He’d love to take a look at the paper."
    We sat down to dinner and had just finished eating when Kevin’s phone rang. He looked at the display. “Uh oh. It’s Tim.” He answered and spoke with his partner for a minute, then clicked off. “Sorry, but we’ve got a body off Mandeville Canyon Road. I’ve gotta