“No. Detective Mancini. He saw you drive by. He called me with a list of questions that had to come from Ethel. If you’d been in position in the house, you might have learned more than what he shared.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good.”

“Can I ask what Ethel’s questions were?”

“Did we find another wound on Norwood? Did we find a house or apartment key? How many rounds were left in the pistol? Could I send her photos of Norwood’s team? Had I checked your alibis?”

“Me? She suspects me?”

“Of course she does. And with good reason, I’d say. But if you’re innocent, you’ve got no one better covering your back. Remember that.”

“And the answers to her other questions?”

Bradshaw smiled for the first time. “Norwood has a separate, earlier wound to his shoulder, and it looks like the interior of the vehicle shows older traces of blood that someone attempted to clean. His keys were in the ignition, but there’s no house or apartment key on the ring or on the body. Two rounds are missing in the pistol, but Norwood was shot only once. And Ethel might be able to ID a suspicious driver who was casing Finch’s house, and that’s why I’m sending the photos of your case team to her.”

“Well, she would have recognized me. I’m the only Black agent on the team.”

“Right. But we now figure Norwood had two accomplices, and odds are they both are part of that team. Your team. So the best way to prove you’re not one of them is to find them.”

***

Jesse realized he hadn’t thought through the consequences of turning his laptop into a clone of Finch’s. That became clear when he went to review his class notes and saw Finch’s screen instead. Backing up Finch’s data and reinstalling his own would run the risk that something could go wrong with the transfer. Better to leave everything in place until after the next day’s visit to the funeral home.

In the meantime, Jesse’s study options were reduced to his iPhone and the documents that were backed up in the cloud. He found taking notes on his notes improved his recall of the information garnered through his professors’ lectures. He was in the process of distilling key concepts into a notebook when someone knocked on his door.

“Come in.” He didn’t bother to get up from his desk.

Lisa Draper entered, flashing a big smile and a cheery “Good morning.”

Jesse slid back his chair.

“Don’t get up. I don’t mean to disturb you.” She made the claim as she closed the door and sat on the unmade bed. Springs creaked.

“My. Rather noisy.” She bounced up and down. “Mine are much quieter.”