Tears sprang to Chrissey's eyes. "He was scared, that's why.
"Scared of the dead man? I asked.
She turned and looked at me. The defiance drained away, leaving her haggard and hollow-eyed. "Of you, she answered.
"Of me? Or you mean of cops?
She nodded. "Of cops. Of all cops. Dean already done some time. He was scared shitless that if he reported it…
"What was he in for?
Regaining control, she blew a languid plume of smoke into the air. "Drugs, she answered casually.
And suddenly I knew where I had seen that worn, dispirited look before, in the wives and girlfriends who follow their menfolk to prison and who live as outcasts in the small towns outside the prison walls, their own lives on hold until the husbands are released.
Chrissey Morrison was a survivor, but there was no dignity in it, no victory. Dean was out now, and they were trying to go on, but his past still cast a shadow over everything they did. I didn't know Dean Morrison, but I felt sorry for his wife.
"Tell us exactly what Dean told you, I urged.
"He was there late afternoon and evening. Musta started about five o'clock or thereabouts. He said about nine or so he finished and come back to the office after runnin' the shredder and found him like that, on the floor with a big old ashtray upside his head. She paused. "From the way he was layin', Dean knowed right away he was dead.
"What happened then?
"Dean said he started to call the cops, but changed his mind and came home. He didn't want to get involved, figured they'd find a way to blame him for it. When I told him he should report it, he got mad as hell. He jumped in the truck and took off. I ain't seen him since.
"Do you have any idea where he is? We just want to talk to him, to ask him some questions.
"No. He hasn't called or nothin'. I thought maybe he'd be back today, bein's it's our anniversary and all, but he ain't. Maybe he won't never come back.
"We could put out a description of the truck, I offered. "We could probably find him that way.
She cringed visibly at the prospect. "Don't do that. Please don't do that. He'd think you were arrestin' him and I don't know what would happen. He didn't do nothin'. Just let him come home on his own.
"Did he tell you anything else about MicroBridge? Did he see anyone there? Talk to anyone?
"He said a woman come in while he was there, a young gal. He said he thought she was the dead guy's daughter. Before he was dead. Dean said they started out talkin' real nice like and ended up fightin' somethin' terrible.
"Did he tell you what they were fighting about?
"No. He said later on he thought he heard a car drive away while he was out in the truck. He figured that was her leavin'. When he come back to the office to drop off the bill and the bags, that's when he found the body.
"After the daughter left? Big Al asked.
Chrissey nodded. My mind caught hold of the word bags. I didn't remember seeing any.
"What bags? I asked.
"The bags of confetti. Our shredder makes confetti out of all them records and files and floppy disks that people want to get rid of. We always bring the bag back to the owner so he can be sure it's properly disposed of. That way there's never no question about what happens to it.
"How big was this bag? Big Al asked.
The woman looked at him. "Not bag, she corrected. "Bags. Musta been several. Dean always takes along a big roll of them fifty-gallon trash bags. I don't know how full they was, or how many. Depends on how much got shredded.
"You're sure he said ‘bags' plural? I asked.
"That's right. Said they was too heavy to carry, so he dragged 'em back in from the truck on a cart, a little handcart. When he finished, he called to the guy, but there was no answer. He said he looked around the rest of the buildin' but couldn't find nobody else, so he come back to leave the cart and the bill there in the office. That's when he found the body.
"What did he do then?
"Ran, I guess. Took off. He was so scared he left the cart right there where it was, and the bill too. Ran back to the truck and drove away. He went to a tavern a few blocks away and sat there and had himself a couple beers to calm himself down. Then he got to thinkin' that maybe you cops would come lookin' for him, so he went back, thought he'd get the bill and the cart, but the door to the dock was closed and locked. He couldn't get back inside.
I glanced at Big Al. Bernard Rennermann had said the door to the loading dock was open. Not only that, Big Al and I had been all over the MicroBridge plant the morning Tadeo Kurobashi's body was found, and neither one of us had seen a trace of a cart with trash bags full of shredded confetti. Or an ashtray either.
"Tell us about the confetti. What's it like?
"Like confetti. Everybody's seen confetti.
"I know what it looks like, but it wasn't there when we got there. Why would someone take it? Could they put the pieces back together and tell what was on it?
She shook her head. "No way. It'd be like a million-piece jigsaw puzzle.
Chrissey Morrison watched us disinterestedly, with the air of someone too tired to care and too broken to lie. I decided to press the advantage.
"What did you husband get sent up for?
Her gaze became brittle. "I already told you. Drugs. He got rehabilitated in jail. Been straight ever since he got out.
"Did he ever steal anything, Mrs. Morrison?
"No. Just as I expected, her answer was too quick, too definitive, too defensive.
Playing for time, leaving her to squirm, I ran my finger along the marred edge of her wooden desk for several long seconds. "Would it be safe to assume that you and your husband don't make a lot of money in this business?
"We make enough to get by, she said. "We pay our bills.
"But it's not easy, is it?
She studied me warily as if trying to sniff out whatever trap I might be setting for her. "No, she answered finally. "It ain't.
"What if your husband happened across something very valuable, an ancient sword that was just lying there free for the taking? Would he have picked it up?
"He didn't say nothin' about somethin' like that. Her voice was tight, verging on panic.
"A sword was found with the body, I said, "so we know he didn't take it.
"Then why're you askin' me about it?
"What do you think would have happened if he had seen it, though? Would he have taken it?
"I don't understand…
"Would he? I insisted. "If he had seen it, would he have picked it up?
She dropped her eyes. "A fancy sword? Probably. Dean'd know how to fence somethin' like that. He got sent up for drugs because that's the only thing they charged him with.
I looked at Big Al. He was nodding.
She stood up, her face slack with despair. "You better go now. I don't want to talk no more. If he calls me, maybe I can make him turn himself in.
When she said that, I realized that Chrissey Morrison still thought her husband was under suspicion.
"Chrissey, listen very carefully. As I told you, we know your husband didn't take the sword, and we're pretty sure he didn't kill anybody, either.
She stared at me blankly. I still wasn't getting through. Chrissey Morrison was a whole lot more loyal than she was smart.
"Are you listening to me? I demanded.
She frowned. "If Dean didn't take nothin', and if he didn't kill nobody, then why're you hasslin' me like this?
"You're sure he didn't say anything at all about a sword being there with the body?
"No, goddamnit, an ashtray. Don't you listen to nothin'?
"But no sword.
"I already tol' you.
"Maybe you didn't understand me the first time. This sword we're talking about was with the body when we found it, so if your husband didn't see one, then the killer may still have been there at the same time your husband was. And that's why we have to talk to him the moment he shows up. He may have seen or heard something that would help us.