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BruinCard until they bring it back. That wasn’t the case here.”
    “Are people from the community allowed to use the reference collection?”
    “They are.” Mark’s face clouded. “I hope that doesn’t change because of this.”
    “It might have been one of our own students.”
    “I hate to think that. But it’s probably true. Or, if it was someone from the outside, they had a student’s help.”
    “Why do you think that?”
    Mark said, “The only way to defeat the security gate is to carry something out holding it over your head. Out of the reach of the scanner. The only way that could go unnoticed is if the person at circ was distracted.”
    “Hm. Or maybe the person just waited until a natural distraction happened, then went. Do you all get pretty busy?”
    “Yeah. There can be two or three people waiting at circ sometimes.”
    I couldn’t think of anything else to ask. “Mark, I really appreciate your help. If you hear anything that you think might be useful, will you let me know?”
    “Sure. Will you do me a favor?”
    “Of course.”
    “Try to convince the cops that it wasn’t an inside job.”
    “I’ll see what I can do. Oh - you all have security cameras, right?”
    “Yeah. The cops are supposedly checking the recordings for unusual activity.”
    “Great. Thanks again, Mark.”
    “You’re welcome.” He grinned at me. “Don’t be a stranger.”
     
    After my reference shift, I went back to my office and called Aguilar. She answered promptly. “Jamie, I’m on campus. Can I come to your office in about thirty minutes?”
    “Sure.”
    Aguilar showed up right on time and knocked on my door frame. I stood. “Come in, Detective.”
    “Please, call me Donna. How’s it going on your end?”
    I told her everything I’d learned from Scott and Mark. “Did you ask the music library how they’d come to own the piece?”
    “I did. They said the composer’s family had donated it. Does that happen often?”
    “It does.”
    Donna looked around my office. “What’s your doctorate in?”
    “History. Do you have a degree in art?”
    “Art education. I taught for three years and decided it wasn’t for me. I had cops in the family, so…” She spread her hands.
    “You must have one of the most interesting gigs in LAPD.”
    She grinned. “I like it. Anyway, I talked to the cello instructor here. He also suggested that the thief might have been a collector.”
    I said, “Surely a collector wouldn’t have stolen the score himself. Or herself.”
    “No, you wouldn’t think so. But anything’s possible at this point.” She rubbed her neck. “I’ve just come from watching several hours of security footage from the camera that shows the music library entrance. So far no one’s walked out holding anything over their heads. But there are several more hours to see.”
    “That’s tedious.”
    She smiled tiredly. “You must know from your brother, a lot of police work is tedious.”
    “Are you going to contact local cellists? See if any of them know of an Isaacson collector?”
    “The ones I can find. I understand the Philharmonic is on break.”
    “They are, until mid-July. Some of them might be around, though.”
    “Like your friend.”
    “And there are other cello and strings instructors at other colleges in town.”
    “Right. I’ve got someone working on a list.” She stood. “Thanks for your help. Let me know if you come across anything else.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”

 
    Wednesday, June 10
    Jamie
    The next morning, I’d been at work around a half hour when Kristen Beach came to my door. “I saw your brother at the North Pool this morning.”
    “Oh. I thought you had a pool at home.”
    “I do, but it’s not a lap pool. I’ve decided to get serious about swimming this summer. For that I need a lap pool. And Kevin was there this morning.”
    “Yeah, he’s moved back to Westwood. He said he was going to start swimming again.”
    Kristen raised an eyebrow. “He told me