‘What was your impression of him?’
‘Like, his behavior or what?’ Jayne knew she sounded distracted.
Scott frowned at her. ‘Are you getting tired?’
Jayne shook her head. In fact, her brain was busy fast-forwarding her memories of that night, now alerted to how much she’d taken for granted with Gene’s visit to LA and how little she’d actually learned from him.
Scott sounded more solicitous. ‘Just think back to the first moment you saw him. Close your eyes if that helps.’
Jayne dutifully followed this direction. She thought back to Gene jumping in the passenger side of the truck, the hug he gave her once in the cab. ‘I didn’t recognize him at first; he looked older than I’d expected even though we’re all older. His skin seemed grayer and it was as though his cheeks were being pulled down by gravity but he was energetic, lively, funny, and it was . . . nicer to see him than I’d expected.’ She opened her eyes and shrugged.
‘Good. OK. Was he clean shaven? Moustache? Beard?’
‘No. No facial hair.’
‘What was he wearing?’
‘All beige. A zip-up windbreaker, golf shirt, slacks. I don’t remember his shoes. No logos.’
‘So he got in the truck. It’s about seven p.m. and then what?’
‘I drove to Little Tokyo.’
‘His choice or yours?’
‘Mine, because it was close.’
‘He pick the restaurant?’
‘No, I’d suggested we see what looked good once we got there.’
‘During the drive, what did you talk about?’
‘Let’s see . . . he explained that he’d left the Bureau years ago, didn’t miss it, and now worked for an electronics company that was expanding to the West Coast and he was the advance guard.’
‘Which company?’ Scott had drawn a line out from his notes and was circling something three times, the ink sitting in a groove on the paper.
‘I don’t know. Didn’t ask.’
‘And he didn’t volunteer? At any point in the evening? Give you his business card?’
‘No.’
‘Did he say where he was based?’
‘No.’
‘So you park and walk into Little Tokyo. Where’d you eat?’
‘Um, I didn’t notice the name. We had stopped in front of it and the host just handed us a menu.’
‘He stopped or you stopped?’
‘I don’t remember; we just stopped. No, wait. I stopped because he’d said something that pissed me off and I couldn’t walk and respond at the same time.’
Scott’s mouth twitched into a tiny grin and then he became serious again. ‘You were arguing?’
‘No. He just made a typical Gene statement, sounding supercilious and sure of his facts as he questioned the likelihood that the Agency could make a difference. He was basically saying that our efforts to link up mispers with unidentifieds was just a drop in the bucket.’
Steelie cut in, leaning towards her. ‘You never told me this.’
Jayne gave her a quelling look. ‘There was no point getting you riled up as well.’
Steelie’s protest was cut off by Scott’s follow-up question for Jayne. ‘Why did that bother you so much that you stopped walking?’
‘Because it’s the sort of armchair quarterback statement you might expect from a disinterested person, not a forensic scientist – or any kind of scientist.’
‘Right.’ Scott almost smiled again. ‘So you set him straight. How did he respond?’
‘He kind of backed off and we went into the restaurant.’
‘Which you don’t know the name of.’
‘Look, I can describe it.’
‘Later.’ Scott consulted his notes. ‘During dinner, did you learn anything about where he lived or his activities, if he had a rental car or some form of transportation?’
‘No. We were reminiscing.’
‘And how long did you stay there?’
‘About an hour and a half. Something like that.’
‘King paid for dinner?’
Jayne had a ray of hope that Scott could be jealous, wanting to know if this had actually been a date. ‘Yes, he paid.’ She tried to see his expression but his whole face was tilted down to his pad.
‘Credit card?’
She deflated. He was just trying to find out if there was a financial paper trail the FBI could follow to investigate Gene. ‘Cash.’
‘Then you went to your place?’
‘No, first we went to the Agency.’
Both Steelie and Scott’s heads snapped toward Jayne. Scott held up his hand to stop Steelie from interrupting again. ‘Was that his suggestion?’
Jayne nodded, beginning to see how strange it appeared. She wondered what Gene had actually been doing, if indeed he was the person responsible for the freeway body parts. She sat still and tried to think of anything he might have seen or could have discerned about the case while in her office.
‘Jayne?’ Scott sounded impatient.
‘Yes. Yes, OK? He asked to see it.’
‘And that seemed normal to you, at, what, eight at night?’
She couldn’t help but sound defensive. ‘We’d been talking about some similarities between our work in Rwanda and what the Agency does now. It was a relatively natural request in the context of the evening.’
‘Fine. You went to the Agency. What did you do there?’
Jayne rubbed her forehead. ‘I showed him around. We weren’t there very long.’
‘Did you show him anything in particular? Any case files, photographs, notes—’
She glared at him. ‘No. I think you know me better than that. And I didn’t say anything about consulting on an FBI case, if that’s what you’re thinking. I didn’t mention the freeway body parts and he sure as hell didn’t ask.’
‘Did he show an interest in anything in particular?’
She thought for a moment. ‘He seemed interested in the All Coroners Bulletin.’
Steelie’s sharp intake of breath was audible. ‘You turned on my computer in the lab?’
Jayne rolled her eyes. ‘Of course not.’ Then she took on an assertive tone, aiming to clarify these issues for the last time. ‘Look, I didn’t open anything, use any passwords in front of him, didn’t let him see the alarm keycode—’ She stopped abruptly. Oh, shit.
‘What?’ Scott leaned forward. ‘You’ve remembered something. The alarm system?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I just thought of something, a connection. I mean, Gene’s the one anomalous person who’s been at the Agency as well as my apartment.’ Her assertive tone had been replaced with something higher pitched.
‘So what?’
‘The bugging. The taps on the phones, dammit!’ Her voice was rising. ‘He said he was in ‘electronics’, maybe that’s what he meant. He’s been in both locations and I let him in myself! For Christ’s sake, I let him in.’
She tried to stand up but the legs of her chair tangled with the strap of her bag, pulling it upside down to the floor. She bent over to untangle the mess, gave up and stepped over it, only to be confronted by Gene’s face on the projection screen when she looked up. No! She made an about-face, directly into Scott, who’d come around the table.
He stopped her short by gripping her by the shoulders. She looked everywhere but into his eyes as she felt despair come over her. Gene had manipulated her with ease, she’d possibly compromised Scott’s case and maybe even Agency 32/1 itself. What have I done?
She was aware that Scott was telling Steelie to turn off the tape recorder. She watched Steelie follow the instructions. Oh, God, Steelie; I’m sorry.
Scott dipped and weaved, trying to get into her line of sight. ‘The wiretaps were outside both buildings, not inside. I don’t want you thinking about what could have happened or making connections right now. Just tell me what happened that night. We’ll deal with whatever comes up.’