As Ralph entered and shut the door, Margaret said, “I believe that Building B-14 was burned down to mask the robbery of the device that Drake Enterprises was contracted to develop.”
“Terrorists?” asked Ralph.
“No,” she said. “I think it might be someone related to the research, someone in the government or the intelligence community, or possibly-”
“Detective Dunn,” said Lien-hua.
All three of us turned toward her. “Dunn?” asked Ralph.
“I’ve been thinking.” Lien-hua flipped through her notepad, read some of her scribbles. “Detective Dunn was at the scene of the suicide Monday night. He showed up at the Sherrod Aquarium-the site of Cassandra’s abduction. He was also at the warehouse, and he made sure he spoke with Cassandra before the paramedics wheeled her away. He prepared the room for Melice and demanded to be present during the interrogation.”
“Was he ever alone with Melice?” asked Ralph.
“I saw him, just a few minutes ago,” I said. “Talking in the hallway with Melice and the officers who were taking him to the infirmary.”
A thought began circling, like a buzzard, through my mind. “Wait
… Melice specifically asked for the FBI, asked for Lien-hua by name, and agreed not to have a lawyer present?”
“That’s right,” said Margaret. “Now, if we can get back to-”
“Wait a minute, Margaret-”
“Dr. Bowers, might I remind you that I’m-” “Sure,” I said. “Tomorrow.” As Margaret opened her mouth to respond, my thoughts zoomed back to the previous night, and before she could lay into me, I said, “Ralph, at the warehouse, Lien-hua and I were by the tank, you were sweeping the north side of the building. The door that Lien-hua kicked open was between us. Melice could have left, could have slipped out the door, but he didn’t. He doubled back. Why didn’t he just leave?”
“You think Melice wanted to get caught?” Lien-hua asked.
“Maybe,” I said. “His lawyers stalled until this afternoon.
Why?”
Melice decided when the interrogation would end by biting off his finger…
Timing, location. Timing, location.
I stood, started for the door. “The infirmary, Ralph. He wanted to go there.”
“Why?”
Psychopaths only care about getting their way… exerting power.
“They would have to take off his cuffs to treat his finger,” I said.
“He planned this all along.” At the end of the interrogation Melice looked at the clock… I glanced toward Ralph. “Do people with CIPA itch? Did you find out?”
“They don’t itch.” Ralph saw me throw open the door, and he rose as well. “What’s going-”
“Move.” I bolted down the hallway. “Shift change, 5:30. He’s going to try to escape-”
And that’s when the police headquarters’ intruder alarm began to squeal through the halls.