Diablo Mesa(39)

Another clearing of the throat, and Garcia was once more his formal, commanding self. “This shouldn’t take long.” He plucked a pen from his pocket. “You told me last night that Morwood came by the forensics lab late in the afternoon. At that time, you and Lathrop were working?”

“I was working. Lathrop was watching.” She’d be goddamned if she ever gave that son of a bitch another break.

Garcia made a notation. “What were you engaged in at the time?”

“I was warming Plasticine in a container of water over…over a burner. For the facial reconstruction. It was necessary in order to apply musculature to the cast of the skull.”

“What did the three of you talk about?”

“Mostly about the chance of obtaining a usable ID from the reconstruction. Lathrop thought it likely; I thought it unlikely.”

“And what did Morwood think?”

“He seemed pleased with my progress. He specifically asked me to make the presentation at next Tuesday’s meeting.”

“And then Agent Morwood left.”

Corrie nodded.

“What happened next?”

“I— We had an argument. Lathrop and I.”

“About what?”

Corrie sighed. “Sir, he has a habit of belittling me. Making snide, sexist, demeaning comments that—when I point them out—he passes off as jokes. He’s been doing it as long as I’ve been here. He referred to me as a Cassandra in front of Morwood, which I felt was disrespectful. I said if he made another comment along those lines, I’d report him.”

“Understood.” Garcia was writing again.

“The fact is, I have a degree in forensic anthropology from John Jay, but he acts like—”

“Understood, Agent Swanson,” Garcia said with a little more iron in his voice.

Corrie went silent as he continued to make notes. Finally, he looked up again. “You understand I must ask this next set of questions. Dr. Lathrop left the lab before you did?”

“Yes. It’s what ended our argument.”

“And you continued working?”

Corrie nodded.

“How much longer?”

“Another hour. Perhaps an hour and a quarter.”

“So what time was it when you left?”

“Close to six thirty.”

“And Dr. Lathrop did not return during that period?”

“No, sir.”

“Was the Bunsen burner on when he left?”

“Yes.”

“How much longer did you make use of it?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes. When the Plasticine was soft enough for use, I took it out and turned off the burner, as well as the gas at the main. At no time was gas or flame near any combustible materials.”

“And can you go over with me, briefly, the steps you took to secure the lab?”

“When I’d made all the progress I could with the reconstruction, I put the model in a cabinet for safekeeping. I put away my tools, took off my gloves, cleared the work area. I’d already set the Bunsen’s collar into the closed position and turned off the gas valve at the worktable, and by that time, the burner was cool. I put it away with the other equipment; checked that the main valve was off, made a final survey of the area, then shut off the lights and waited for the security pad to turn green before leaving.”

As Corrie spoke, she expected Garcia to take more notes or record what she said. But instead, he just listened, stroking his beard and watching her. Then he asked a final question.

“And you think the reason Morwood went back to the lab that night was to return the object to the evidence locker—correct?”

Corrie hesitated. At midnight? “I’m not sure.”

“Do you know any other reason related to what Agent Morwood was working on, or what he was thinking, that might have taken him to the lab that late at night?”

“No, sir. He sometimes worked late into the evening. Perhaps he wanted to check on the progress of my reconstruction.”

Garcia took this in with no change of expression. Then, at last, he put the pen back in his pocket and closed the folder. “Thank you, Corrie.”

Corrie felt as disoriented as a pinball on its table. “Sir, I want to help—”

“I know you do. But we have to let the investigation take its course. Since this allegation has been made, you can’t be directly involved. You understand?”

“And my investigation into the identity of the two bodies…?”

“They were badly damaged in the fire. I’m afraid any more work on that will have to wait until the fire investigation is complete.” This sounded dismissive, and Garcia grimaced slightly as he became aware of it. “Don’t worry about Lathrop, okay? The best thing you can do is let yourself grieve. Get some distance from all this. In fact, I recommend you take next week off.”

“But, sir—”

“Agent Swanson, please: a week off. All right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Here’s my direct number, in case you need to talk or anything else occurs to you about why Morwood went into the lab late at night.” He reached into a jacket pocket, pulled out a card, and handed it to her. “Now go home, Swanson. And thank you.”

Corrie began to speak again, only to realize there was nothing more to say. She stood up, mumbled her thanks in return, and then exited the office, feeling even more numb than she had on her way in.