“That would be useful … but here we go again, Lara, with another annoying problem. Bobby reported to Dave McClellan that a couple of days after Des and Doreen’s bodies came in, he was here working late, happened to step out of his office, which is right across from the fridge-closet, at the exact same time you walked out of the fridge. That ring a bell?”

“Short Latin guy? Big mustache?”

“That’s Bobby. He went into the fridge, found one of the bodies looked like the plastic wrap had been messed with. Doreen’s. Dave didn’t think much of it, you were staff, maybe you were clearing a serial number for your paperwork. But now that we know about the stain, you can see what it looks like.”

“That’s all it was, I was checking numbers.”

“But someone else got in there and removed the stain?”

“Or it got washed away by accident, Lieutenant. That kind of thing happens around here, believe me.”

“I can hear John Nguyen groaning.”

“What do you mean?”

“See it from John’s perspective, Lara. You’re seen entering the fridge, the plastic’s disturbed, a piece of evidence is missing.”

“Maybe he did it.”

“Who?”

“That guy Bobby, maybe he wanted his job back, so he tried to cast suspicion on me.”

“Bobby’s busy with school and a part-time job.”

“He might’ve changed his mind.”

“Anything’s possible, Lara, but I wouldn’t even try to offer that to John Nguyen—hold on, let me shoot another one at you. A problem, I mean: Bobby was murdered.”

Silence.

“Lara?”

“Oh, that.”

“That?”

“I heard a C.I. was shot off the premises. I didn’t know it was him.”

“It was, Lara. He was shot in the head, same as Des Backer. With a .22, same as Des, no shell casings left behind, same as Des. Which makes sense, because the gun—the one with your prints on it—is a revolver, that little Smith and Wesson 650 we found in the box in the closet. So obviously we ran comparisons and unfortunately, the striations from the bullet in Bobby’s head match those from the bullet in Des’s head. I say unfortunately, because now we’ve got your prints on a weapon of multiple destruction. So to speak. Monte has an explanation for that—one that doesn’t depend on coincidence. Want to guess what he says?”

“Something that incriminates me. But he’s a sociopath and a liar.”