Part 9 (1/2)
The warren of gla.s.sed-in rooms looked empty. Then she saw Jin and Neva near the elevator. They were carrying crime scene kits and appeared to be preparing to leave. When they saw Diane they set their cases down and walked along the gla.s.sed-in hallway to where she stood. David popped up from a computer station inside one of the rooms. He mouthed a greeting and came out to join them.
”You have a scene to process?” Diane asked Jin and Neva.
Neva nodded. ”In White County. How are things with you?”
”Yeah,” said Jin, ”David said the U.S. Marshals took you and the FBI guy away.”
”I said no such thing,” said David, frowning at Jin. ”I said they left the restaurant together.”
”Clymene escaped today sometime after my visit with her,” said Diane.
They all walked over to a round table sitting in the corner that they used for debriefing. They all looked so alert. I miss young, I miss young, thought Diane. But then David also looked alert and chipper and he was her age. thought Diane. But then David also looked alert and chipper and he was her age.
”Don't let me keep you,” said Diane. ”The two of you need to get to the crime scene.”
”We'll get there. We want to hear about Clymene first. She escaped? How?” asked Jin.
”Don't know,” said Diane. ”That seems to be up in the air at the moment. Jin, I want you to search the DNA databases for anyone related to Clymene.”
”We looking for her too?” asked Jin. ”You saying we're helping the marshals?” He looked so skeptical that Neva laughed.
”The FBI would like us to find her,” said Diane.
”You mean Kingsley,” said David.
”Same thing,” said Diane.
”Jin, can you do it or not?” asked Diane.
Jin looked wounded. ”Sure, Boss. I'll start tomorrow.”
Diane shook her head and put her hand to her temples. ”Sorry, I didn't mean to snap.”
”You look tired,” said David.
”I am. It's been a weary day and instead of getting my morning run in, I had to visit Clymene. The woman is a lot of trouble. Now, Neva, Jin-go. David, tell me about your interviews with Kendel and Marge-and the fire at Golden Antiquities.
Chapter 15.
”I'll start with my interview of Madge,” said David. He stretched out his legs, then after a moment sat up straight and stretched. ”Let's go into your osteology office. It's more comfortable and you have that little refrigerator with drinks in it. You know, you need to put in a bar.”
In Diane's capacity as forensic anthropologist at the crime lab she had an osteology lab in the west wing with an attached office. She punched in her key code for the bone lab, entered, and switched on the light. A newly arrived box of bones from a cold case in Ohio was sitting on a s.h.i.+ny metal table waiting for her a.n.a.lysis. If she hadn't felt so tired she would have started laying them out while David briefed her. Instead she went to her office.
Smaller than her museum office, it had off-white walls adorned only with a watercolor of a wolf, a green slate floor, dark walnut office furniture, a leather chair, and a long burgundy leather couch that David immediately claimed. He stretched out full length with his head on the arm and his hands behind his head.
”Now, this is comfortable,” he said.
Diane went to the small refrigerator in the corner that was topped with an artificial green plant because she managed to kill real ones. Besides, there was no sunlight in the room anyway. She got c.o.kes for herself and David. She tossed David his and popped hers open as she sat down in the leather chair near the sofa.
”Did Madge have any useful information?” asked Diane.
”I had to calm her down before I could get much out of her,” he said. ”She said you told her that Kendel was going to sue her.”
”Not exactly right. She asked me if Kendel would sue and I told her that if I were Kendel, I would,”
said Diane.
”Well, it scared her,” said David.
”Madge Stewart is babied too much,” said Diane.
”It's time she started taking responsibility for her behavior.”
David knitted his brows together. ”So you're her mother now?”
”No. I'm director of this museum and she made some stupid statements to the newspaper that caused problems that I now have to deal with.”
”Just getting things straight,” said David. He looked comfortable lying there in his jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt. Diane wished she had taken the couch instead.
”Did you get a coherent answer from her?” asked Diane, sipping on the ice-cold drink. She pressed the cold can to her forehead.
”More or less. She said the reporter called her from the Rosewood Review Rosewood Review and told her that Kendel Williams had knowingly purchased looted Egyptian antiquities for the museum and what did Madge have to and told her that Kendel Williams had knowingly purchased looted Egyptian antiquities for the museum and what did Madge have to say about it. Madge told her that Kendel would be fired,” said David.
Diane rolled her eyes. ”Is that it? Did the reporter have any other questions for her?” asked Diane. ”She asked Madge information about herself. You want my opinion, I think the reporter played up to her ego-or lack of it. Then she asked her about your running of the museum,” said David.
Diane frowned. In her meeting with the board she had purposefully ignored the parts of the article that raised questions about her management of the museum. She wanted to keep the board members focused on the real harm of the article to the museum and not think that her anger was in response to things Madge had said about her personally.
Truth was, she didn't care that Madge thought she ran a loose s.h.i.+p or that the crime lab was taking too much of Diane's time and that too much responsibility had been s.h.i.+fted to Kendel. She did care that Madge verified the reporter's accusation about stolen antiquities without having any real knowledge and without thinking about the consequences to the museum or to Kendel.
”What about the reporter?” said Diane. ”I suppose you haven't had time to speak with her.”
David shook his head. ”I haven't tried. I called a buddy at another paper and asked about Janet Boville-that's the Rosewood reporter's name. He said she's an ambush reporter, very aggressive, and he had little respect for her ethics. I was concerned that if I approached her the wrong way, the next article would be 'Museum Director This Reporter,' or something said David.
Panicking-Hara.s.sing equally tabloidlike,”
Diane nodded. ”I wouldn't have liked that. Did you find out anything else from Madge?”
”Not directly, but Boville had been tipped off by some informant; I think the informant scripted the questions,” said David.
Diane sat up straight and leaned forward with her forearms on her knees. ”Why do you say that?”
”Because of the questions she asked Madge-about the UNESCO convention and where the museum stands on its provisions. About whether the provenance matched the artifacts. I thought that one was interesting.”