The Unspoken. Heather GrahamЧитать онлайн книгу.
time was of the essence. Would you like me to share what I’ve learned? Or would you rather let someone else die while you start your own investigation?” he asked.
I’m a professional, but I cannot work with this man!
She took a deep breath. “You do realize, Agent Chan, that we didn’t just go in and prove that Brady Laurie was murdered. Yes, it’s possible that he was held in some way while his regulator was ripped from him, but it’s not a foregone conclusion. There are other reasons such bruising might have occurred.”
“Evidence locker,” he said.
“Pardon?”
“Laurie’s dive gear is in an evidence locker down at the police station, since the police were with the rescue units when he was brought in. I’m going down there to meet up with the local investigator and see exactly how much air was left in Laurie’s tank.” He paused. “I was a day ahead of you—although, yes, it’s your case. I’ve seen the footage that was taken when the body was discovered. Laurie was dead when they found him, which wasn’t long after he’d gone down himself. I still can’t accept that it was a simple drowning.”
“Wait—whoa! I didn’t know there was footage!”
“Yes, there’s footage. And you can call Bernie right now, or you can take my word for it. I haven’t been to look at the evidence yet, but I intend to. You can get together with King Productions now or come with me and see the footage later. Your call.”
She really wished it would be professional just to slap his determined and impatient face.
Another deep breath. “It’s my call, yes,” she said. “But I will come with you. As you pointed out, I can see the footage later.”
He stood his ground but seemed slightly taken aback, something of a smile almost curving his lips.
“We’re not on opposing sides,” she said. “It doesn’t matter who makes what call. We’re here to find out if a murder has occurred, and if an investigation is necessary. I’m here for Brady Laurie, Agent Chan, not for a pissing contest with you.”
Now his lips did curve into a full smile. “Sorry. But the M.E.’s findings were just too easy.”
“Look, if there was no reason to suspect foul play, his findings really weren’t negligent.”
“You’re defending him because he’s an M.E.”
“I’m only saying what’s true, especially in a big city where you can have days when the bodies just pile up,” Kat said.
“All right. I’ll apologize when I see him again—if I see him again—and let’s pray I don’t. As to the rest, time can mean everything in this kind of investigation.”
“I know. But I’m not sure whether we can answer all the questions we need answered or if those answers will lead to more questions. If we find air in the tank…”
“Then there’s a good chance he was murdered.”
He’d turned already. She suddenly hated the fact that he was as tall as he was. Keeping up with him was an effort.
“Even if the air is gone, we can’t be certain of what happened. The air might have bled out after he died,” she said, catching up with Will. “And if there is air in the tank, it still doesn’t prove that the regulator was ripped from his mouth.”
He stopped so abruptly that she plowed into him. He reached out one hand to prevent her from falling.
“No, we won’t prove anything one way or another, not without additional evidence. But it will be interesting to find out if there is or isn’t air in his tank and to take a look at the regulator.”
“You have a car?” she asked him.
“You don’t?”
“I got into my room around midnight. I took a cab from the airport.”
“I’m in the garage.”
He started walking again. This time, she kept a certain distance.
He’d rented a Honda. When Kat climbed in, he indicated a folder thrust between the seats. “Notes from my meeting with Amanda Channel and Jon Hunt at the Chicago Ancient History Preservation Center—and what I’ve dug up from recent newspaper clippings.”
Kat quickly leafed through the folder while he maneuvered the car out of the parking garage. The center sounded like a truly commendable enterprise. Nonprofit, it was dedicated to preservation. The staff was small and included three researchers, a receptionist and a general assistant. Grad students came and went. Of course, now with Brady Laurie gone, it was down to two researchers.
“Landry Salvage and Simonton’s Sea Search,” she murmured, skimming various articles written about the elusive Jerry McGuen. “These can’t be the only two parties interested in finding the ship.”
“I’m assuming that over the last century, countless individuals and companies have tried. Think about discoveries in the past. Both the Titanic and the Atocha took years and years of fruitless searches before finally being discovered.” He glanced over at her. “Laurie must have been a brilliant historian and scientist.”
“But not as brilliant a diver,” Kat said. “He shouldn’t have gone down alone.”
Will shrugged. “Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe the first person to come across the treasure was supposed to die,” he said cryptically. “Or maybe his coworkers weren’t supposed to be so close behind him, who knows? But I believe we’ll find out.”
“You have a lot of confidence,” Kat told him.
He flashed her a smile that was surprisingly charming. “That’s what we do—find things out. So far, my team hasn’t stopped until we’ve gotten the answers. Don’t tell me your team gives up so easily.”
“We haven’t given up yet!” Kat said indignantly.
His smile remained in place as he drove.
At the station, they were led first to one desk and then to another, and finally to the officer in charge of the accidental death investigation, Sergeant Riley. His supervisor had advised him to expect fed agents, and while he was pleasant and seemed to have no problem offering them assistance, he was confused about why they were there. “Sad, but the way the papers tell it,” Riley said, “Laurie went down on his own and drowned. You would’ve thought he’d know better. Every year, every damned year, there’s a diver lost somewhere in the lake, some fool so convinced of his own ability that he just goes down—and comes up dead.” Riley was in his early thirties, tops. He was medium in height and size, and wore a white tailored shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “At the moment, the personal effects found on the corpse are in the evidence room. We’ll go sign them out and you can study them all you want.”
“Were you there when Brady Laurie was brought up?” Kat asked him.
“They were on the lake. Our marine unit went out to the site. He was declared dead at the hospital, but there’d been attempts at resuscitation before that. I took over the investigation when his wet suit and dive tanks were sent to us, and I’ve been awaiting the medical examiner’s report, but…I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting anything to come of it,” Riley said.
He walked them back to the evidence cage, where they were introduced to the officer in charge and signed in. “Was the equipment tested for leaks?” Will asked.
“Immediately. No problems.”
“Fingerprints?”
“Um, no.”
“Ah,” Chan said.
Riley frowned. “Is that a problem? I doubt we’d have gotten anything, anyway, since divers