“Frank!” Haycroft said when he looked up from the fingerprint computer system. Frank saw that he was using the lab’s new digital imaging software to enhance an image of a partial fingerprint. “The big man himself was down here just before lunch, talking about you.”
“Hale?”
“Yes. Asking about paper airplanes. Seems you gave him something to think about.”
“Thinking about asking me to resign, you mean.”
“No, I doubt that. Did you get Al’s note?”
“Al’s note?”
“He left early — some sort of digestive problem. But he said if you came by, to make sure you got the note he left for you on his desk. I guess he wanted to talk to you earlier, but the chief said you were visiting commissioners this afternoon.”
Mentally cussing out the “big man himself” for blabbing that to Haycroft and Larson, Frank said, “I’m trying to talk to anyone who knew Trent Randolph. While I’m here with you — mind if I ask you about the Randolph cases?”
“Not at all.”
He was distracted by watching Haycroft clean the screen on the computer monitor.
“No wonder you think Pete’s a slob,” Frank said.
“Helps to see the image better,” he said, then smiled. “I’m not just being anal-retentive.”
“Don’t get me wrong — I’m not saying orderliness is a bad thing. I suppose it’s especially important down here.”
Haycroft shrugged. “I’ve seen cluttered crime labs. Larson wouldn’t stand for it here, though, and I think he’s right. Why give a defense attorney — or the D.A., for that matter — an opportunity to say you were careless or contaminated the evidence?”
“One of my questions is about that,” Frank said, opening one of the file folders he had with him and turning to a page he had marked. “There was some problem with cat hair?”
“Let me try to remember. May I see that?”
Haycroft read the notes and said, “Oh, yes, now I remember. A few stray hairs inside the shoes we recovered. Unknown source. We thought Vince or Dale might have brought them to the scene when they were searching Dane’s boat, but when we tested their cats’ fur against a sample, it didn’t seem to match in color.” He frowned. “I recall talking about this to Lefebvre, showing it to him under the microscope. It bothered me, because Dane is highly allergic to cats. And also, Vince was so touchy about the whole business — his lieutenant had to pressure him into letting us comb his cat. Then Vince told me not to talk about it to anyone.”
“But you have — and you wrote it up in the report.”
“Vince isn’t my supervisor.” He suddenly seemed embarrassed and said, “I’m not as brave as I’m making it sound. I added the information to the formal report after talking to Lefebvre about it. Then he disappeared, and no one seemed to care about what I’d written. The cat hairs were gone with all the other evidence, so what did it matter?”
“You examined the watch that was left in the evidence box?”
“I didn’t do more than take a look at it. Dale Britton did the real work on it.”
“And it was definitely worn? I mean, not a new watch?”
“Not new, no. As I recall, Dale got a wrist measurement from it. I don’t suppose your forensic anthropologist friend might be able to help us compare it with Lefebvre’s?”
“I’ll ask him,” Frank said, deciding not to let Haycroft know that Ben had already discussed it with him. “Do you remember anyone else around here who had a watch like that?”
“Well, yes. We all did.”
“What?”
“Everyone in the lab. One of the vendors gave Al a dozen of them when we bought some equipment. He gave one to me, one to Dale, one to each of the technicians, and then a few to detectives — Vince received one, I believe. Pete, too. Lefebvre must have been given one also.” He hesitated, then said, “They weren’t that expensive — not meant as a bribe or anything of that nature.”
“Not asking about it because of that — listen, are you sure Dr. Larson gave them all away?”
“Well… I hate to say that any were stolen, but I think some people may have believed that if the watches were a giveaway, they were free — so why not take one without asking? Al was looking for one of them a few years later and couldn’t find them in the place where he’d left them. Really became upset about it.”
“Remember when that happened?”
“Oh, about six or seven years ago.”
“What makes you think it was then?”
“Because that same vendor sold us the DNA equipment. I suppose that’s what made Al think of the watches. That’s seven years ago, I believe.”
“Maybe Dr. Larson just misplaced them,” Frank said, wishing the vendor had been less generous.
“Misplaced?” Haycroft said in disbelief, then laughed. “Have you ever been in Al Larson’s office?”
“Not more than once or twice,” Frank said. “Now that I think about it, I haven’t ever been inside yours. Usually, when I’ve come down here, you’ve both been in the lab itself.”
“Or we’ve come up to your desk in Homicide. If you’d like to take a look in my office, go right ahead. I’m in the middle of doing this comparison or I’d show it to you myself.”
“I’ll take a rain check.”
“Yes, I imagine you have better things to do than look at my desk. Anyway, my point was that Al doesn’t misplace things. When you pick up the note he left for you, take a look around his office and tell me if you think the man who occupies it ever had a disorganized moment in his life.”
“Any idea what he wanted to talk to me about? I’m a little uncomfortable about going into his office if he’s not in—”
“The door is never locked.”
“Still—”
“You aren’t going to tell me you’ve never been in an office without the owner’s knowledge?”
“Never a colleague’s office.”
“No need to take offense,” Haycroft said. “He left the note for you there, after all.”
“I wonder why he didn’t just send it up to my desk?”
“Well — he probably wasn’t thinking straight. Not to get into embarrassing detail, but from what he told me, he seemed to have a case of food poisoning — stomach cramps and so on. He was distracted, as you might imagine, and left in something of a hurry.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sure he’ll feel better by tomorrow. And I wouldn’t tell you to go into his office if I thought you’d be violating his privacy or compromising cases. He’s very security-conscious, Frank — his desk and file cabinets will be locked. You don’t need to touch anything — just pick up the note. You’ll see what I’m talking about.”
“Okay, but one other question — back to the cat hair business. Actually, not the hairs, but the shoes you found them in — the shoes that were discovered aboard the Cygnet. You examined them, but there were no wear patterns noted.”
“May I see the photos?”
Frank showed him the photos of the shoes and of the bloody footprints on the Amanda.
“Now I remember. The shoes were brand new. There was blood and little else on them. As far as we could tell, Trent had hosed down the decks of his yacht just before Dane arrived.”
“Any attempt made to find out if Dane had bought the shoes around here recently?”
“Yes, but we weren’t successful. That doesn’t mean anything — he could have had closets full of shoes he had never worn, bought them months earlier.”
Or, Frank thought, someone else bought a pair to match ones seen on Dane.
Frank again stood before the door of Larson’s office, telling himself that he had no real reason to feel so uneasy. He reached for the doorknob and turned it. As Haycroft had predicted, it was unlocked.