“It would explain why he didn’t try to get away from the bees-he couldn’t move.”
Grissom studied the corpse’s face; it was so swollen as to be unrecognizable. “Al, can you send a sample of Quadros’s hair to tox? It’s possible these levels built up over time-if so, I’d like to know how long.”
“Sure. You think he was expo sed repeatedly?”
“Maybe.” Grissom shook his head. “But something doesn’t add up here.”
Grissom found Nathan Vanderhoff beside the pool.
Vanderhoff sat up on his lounger when he saw Grissom approaching. He was in one of the shaded cabanas, dressed in shorts and sunglasses and with a laptop beside him.
“Nathan,” said Grissom, “mind if we talk?”
“Not at all. I heard about Roberto-terrible, just terrible.”
“Yes.” Grissom took out his own sunglasses and slipped them on. “Excuse me. The glare off the pool-bright light is one of the things that can trigger a migraine.”
“Not to mention stress. I imagine you’ve been under a great deal of that lately.”
Grissom shrugged and pulled up a deck chair. “Part of the job. I’m just sorry I missed so much of the conference.”
“Yes, there were some good presentations this year-though I’m afraid I missed quite a few myself.”
“I apologize if the investigation inconvenienced you.”
“Not at all. You were simply being professional. I’m afraid I haven’t been-Vegas simply offers too many opportunities to indulge.”
“That it does. What’s been occupying your time?”
Vanderhoff smiled. “Oh, this and that. I’m a bit of a foodie-the restaurant selection is quite impressive.” He paused. “Afraid I’m not much of one for the buffets, though. They remind me too much of repletes.”
Grissom knew what he referred to: a replete was a specialized class of worker ant, one that essentially functioned as a living food dispenser. It hung upside down from the roof of a storeroom, its distended belly holding so much liquid that if it were to fall it would burst. Its sole purpose was to regurgitate stored nectar when other sources of food weren’t available.
“Better selection, though,” said Grissom. “Nathan, did Roberto ever talk to you?”
“About the case? Of course. All four of us discussed it, even after it became obvious we were suspects. Then Khem was arrested, and we assumed you had your man. But now that Quadros is dead… well, I have to say I’m a bit nervous.”
Grissom glanced around. Two women in extremely brief swimsuits had just climbed out of the pool, sunlight gleaming off their perfect tans. “You don’t seem nervous,” he said.
Vanderhoff chuckled, eyeing the women. “I thought I’d make a poorer target if I stayed in public. Of course, there are some fringe benefits…”
“Did Quadros ever say anything that seemed… odd?”
“It’s hard to say what would qualify, Gil. Roberto, as you know, was more than a little outspoken-and had quite a temper, as well. I would have classified any discussion with him that wasn’t punctuated by an outburst or two as odd.”
“Did he ever say anything about Athena Jordanson?”
“The singer? No, not that I can recall. But really, I didn’t know the man well; I only met him in person for the first time here.”
“So did I,” said Grissom. He got to his feet. “Enjoy the rest of your stay, Nathan. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Jake Soames was harder to find. He wasn’t at the conference, and he wasn’t at his hotel; Grissom had his cell phone number, but Soames wasn’t answering. Grissom left a message for Soames to call him back.
He did, no more than twenty minutes later. “What’s up, Gilly?”
“Jake. I was wondering if we could get together and talk.”
There was a brief pause. Grissom heard coughing in the background. “Uh, yeah, that’d be fine. Look, I just got out of a show-why don’t we meet in the hotel bar for a drink? It’s called-let’s see-Glimmer.”
“I know where that is. Half an hour?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
As he drove, Grissom reflected on his friendship with Jake Soames. It seemed to prov e the adage that opposites attract; where Grissom was quiet and thoughtful, Jake was brash and impulsive. Where Grissom took most of his pleasure from the cerebral, Jake was more interested in the visceral-though they had found common ground in an appreciation of roller coasters.
But that was how some relationships worked. Traits Grissom might have found irritating in others he tolerated, even appreciated, in Jake; his friend, in return, seemed to enjoy the counterbalance of Grissom’s calm.
But he really didn’t know Jake Soames at all.
He’d never been to his house or even his hometown. He’d never met any of his other friends, other than professional colleagues they both shared. They had probably exchanged more words via e-mail than they ever had in person. His overall view of the person named Jake Soames, if he were to try to quantify it, was based largely on less than a hundred hours of face-to-face time and a great deal of written correspondence. And if there was one thing Grissom knew, it was that people-unlike evidence-were always capable of lying.
Face-to-face or in writing.
Glimmer was one of the trendy nightspots where there was always a line at the door, the only white light was in the bathroom, and the constant pulse of music made it almost impossible to talk. He used his CSI ID to bypass the line, then found Soames in a back booth. Miraculously, the music was slightly less obtrusive there.
The booth was circular, with a high padded back. Grissom slid in, close enough to Soames so they could talk without shouting. Soames had a beer in front of him, but he’d hardly touched it.
“Good to see you, Gilly. One of the main reasons I came on this junket was so’s we could catch each other up.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Jake. Sorry I’ve been so busy.”
“No worries. Though I’m a little surprised you didn’t interrogate me yourself.”
Grissom started to reply, then stopped himself.
“I mean, if you go to all the trouble of hauling an old friend off the street, the least you could do was show up for the grilling-my feelings were a bit hurt.”
“We questioned everyone,” said Grissom.
“I told you, mate-no worries. You’ve got a killer who seems to know all about bugs, one who blows into town the same time we do-I’d do the same in your boots. But things are a little different now, eh? Charong’s in the clink and Quadros is dead. Guess that means me and Vanderhoff are up for the silver and gold.”
“You were already cleared for the Harribold killing, Jake.”
“And then there was one. You’ve g ot Nathan all locked away, then?”
“No. Things aren’t as clear-cut as that.”
Soames picked up his beer and took a drink-just a sip, not his usual enthusiastic gulp. “Course not. That’s why you’re here, right?”
“I suppose it is. How well did you know Quadros?”
“Laid eyes on him for the first time at the conference. Swapped a few files over the interwebs; he hung out in some of the same discussion groups you and I do. I thought you and him were the best of e-buddies.”
“We did correspond, yes. But I was meeting him for the first time at the conference, too.”
“Beginning to sound like I might have to settle for the bronze. You think Quadros was the Bug Killer all along?”
“I can’t say. The investigation is still ongoing.”
“And despite the dime-store badge you pretended to give me, I’m not really part of that. Never was, was I?”
“I’m sorry, Jake. I did… I did what I thought was necessary.”
Jake stared at him. “We all do, mate. We all do… You probably wonder what I’ve been up to while I wasn’t at the conference.”
“I assumed you were enjoying Vegas.”