The Lava Witch, page 5
The man shrugged. “Well, not if you take into account that seventy percent of the planet’s surface is covered by seas and oceans.” Abruptly, he thrust out his hand. “I’m Dr. Davos O’Connor, the director of the research laboratory here at CMMR.”
“So you pronounce it see-more?” asked Hara.
O’Connor nodded. “I was told there was a police officer requesting my presence, and I’m guessing that might be you.” He pretended to look alarmed. “Has someone finally reported that their vintage Aston Martin has gone missing?”
Hara didn’t return the smile. “Not that I’m aware of.” He looked at Kali, as though unsure of whether he should continue to engage in conversation with O’Connor.
She shook her head, the look almost imperceptible. Unlike Hara, she didn’t wear a uniform, and she was trying to decide if Davos O’Connor was ignoring her because he didn’t know who she was, or because Hara’s sharply pressed dark blue uniform commanded more respect than her jeans and casual shirt—or whether the fact that she was a woman had caused O’Connor to discount her entirely as a possible authority figure.
Hara stepped aside, deferring to Kali. “I’m Officer David Hara. This is Detective Kali Mhoe. It’s her you’ll need to speak to.”
O’Connor swung toward her, startled. His eyes swept over her, taking in her appearance, lingering on her stained shirt. “Oh. You’ll have to forgive me. I thought maybe you were here waiting for one of the grad students.” He laughed, a short bray of a sound, then dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Please excuse me.”
“Of course,” she said, her voice mild. She was a few inches taller than he was, and she sensed that he didn’t like the fact that she was looking down at him. Once again, he extended his hand, though with considerably less enthusiasm. She briefly grasped it, trying not to recoil at the softness of his palm. She met his eyes. “Is there someplace where we can speak privately?”
He hesitated, looking at them questioningly. “Why, yes, I suppose so. If it’s absolutely necessary.”
“I assure you that it is,” said Kali. “We’ll follow you.”
O’Connor shrugged, then turned without saying anything else as he steered them past the desk and into the long hall. A second security guard who stood on the other side of a turnstile gate nodded to them in acknowledgment. After a few feet, O’Connor turned into a second hallway that hadn’t been visible from the entrance area of the building. He walked briskly down its length until he was nearly at the end, then thrust open a door that led into a cluttered office. The walls and floor were white, while a long wooden counter ran along one wall at about waist height.
Above the counter and on either side, crowded shelves were crammed with books, periodicals, and paper file folders. There were sea charts on another wall, and a large desk covered with more folders and what looked to Kali like rock samples. More rocks could be seen protruding from a large cardboard box resting on the floor in front of the desk, and an open laptop computer was balanced on a stack of books on one corner. Despite the overall impression of clutter, the space struck Kali as cold and clinical.
O’Connor ushered them inside and closed the door behind them. “So,” he said, his voice betraying his interest, “what is it that I can do for you?”
Kali looked around. Other than a swivel chair behind the desk, there was no obvious place to sit. She turned and faced O’Connor directly.
“I’m here to ask you a few questions about one of your employees.” She watched him carefully. “Maya Holmes.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? Maya? Now, what on earth has she done to get the attention of the police?”
“Can you tell me the last time you saw her?” Kali continued, without answering his question.
“Well, let me see. She’s been out collecting samples up off the northeast coast for a few days. Was she trespassing? We have permission, of course, being a respected research facility, to—”
“Was she alone?”
“Yes, she went on her own.”
“When is the last time you actually spoke with her?” pressed Kali. She saw a shadow of annoyance register in O’Connor’s eyes.
“Maybe . . . well, today is Tuesday, so I suppose it must have been Friday morning.” He waited, clearly unsure of what Kali was driving at.
“As you’ve just said, today is Tuesday. Is it usual for your staff to work from outside of this facility, or to not check in with you after a weekend?” asked Kali. “I’m assuming there’s a schedule or some sort of regular working hours.”
“Well, yes, more or less—but when one of our team is out in the field and likely to be working over the weekend, I don’t necessarily expect to see them on Monday.”
“And on Friday, was she actually here, or did you speak to her on the phone?”
“She called me. From her cell phone. She was checking in.”
“Would that be a work phone or a private phone?”
His brows drew together. “Private. We don’t have separate work phones. Why?”
Hara listened as the exchange continued, his eyes darting from Kali to O’Connor.
“Exactly what time did she phone you?” Kali asked. O’Connor shook his head. “The exact time? I don’t know. Sometime in the morning.”
“Check your phone, please.”
He pressed his lips together, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Kali and Hara watched as he scrolled through his list of incoming calls.
“Looks like it was at 10:12 a.m.,” he said. “We only spoke briefly. Here, see for yourself.”
Kali took the phone and made a note of the number and time. “Did Miss Holmes sound distressed?” she asked, unblinking.
“No, I can’t say that she did. Why? What’s going on?”
“And how about recently? Has she acted oddly, or expressed any personal concerns?”
O’Connor frowned. “Look, Detective, I’m not the girl’s father. She’s a junior colleague, and not the kind of person who unloads her personal baggage while she’s at work. Before this conversation goes any further, I’d like to know exactly what your questions are all about.”
“Miss Holmes was found dead Monday morning. She was deliberately killed, and I am leading the investigation into the circumstances of her death.”
O’Connor’s mouth opened, then closed. He took a half step backward, bumping into an open box of rocks with one foot. Wordlessly, he turned and walked behind his desk, sinking into his chair. He looked blankly at the wall in front of him, then turned back to Kali and Hara.
“She was . . . she’s dead? I don’t understand. You mean . . .”
“You’ll appreciate that it’s very important that you tell us anything you can think of that may be useful. Do you have any knowledge, for instance, of another person, or persons—perhaps a colleague she didn’t get along with—who may have wished to cause Miss Holmes harm? Was she at odds with anyone here at work?”
Hara had taken out his notebook and pen and stood, waiting for O’Connor to speak.
“No . . . no. Absolutely not. Maya is . . . was . . . very quiet and focused. Professional. She always seemed to get along well with everyone. But we have a very, very small team in this particular lab. I can’t speak for any relationships she may have had beyond here.”
“And you’ve not noticed any odd behavior?” Kali persisted. “Did she seem worried, or preoccupied with her life outside of work?”
O’Connor raised his hands slightly, the palms turned up in a gesture of uncertainty. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t a sounding board. We worked together, but she never confided in me. I don’t recall her being worried about anything, but I doubt I’d be someone she’d ever consider sharing her personal concerns with.”
“Really?” Kali looked at him, her head tilted slightly to one side. “We’ve been told by other sources that you were actually very close. According to what we’ve learned so far, you are the reason that Maya Holmes was working here. You were her course advisor in her university program, weren’t you?”
From his chair, O’Connor smiled, but the expression was sad. “Yes, I was her advisor. And yes, I sought her out for this position and encouraged her to take it, and I stand by that decision. She was rather brilliant, and I knew she’d be an asset to our program. But our relationship was purely professional. I’m afraid you’ll have to look elsewhere if you want to learn anything about her private life.”
Hara shifted his feet, glancing at Kali. She nodded to him, and he turned to address O’Connor.
“Who were her friends here at work? The people she had lunch with, or took her breaks with?”
O’Connor thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think she had any close friends here. I honestly can’t recall seeing her socializing with anyone else. I mean, she was always personable, as I’ve just said, and I think everyone here appreciated her, but she’d been here for just over a year. I can’t honestly say that I’m aware of her having formed any particular friendships.” He looked at them, apologetic. “I really wish I could be of more help.”
Kali thought about Charlie’s comments that someone had been contemptuous of her fitness goals. “A source has confided in us that her intention to participate in the Ironman competition was met with some ridicule from a coworker.”
O’Connor looked blank. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not aware of anything like that.”
“Tell me more about her work,” said Kali. “What were her responsibilities here?”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” He looked at them as though measuring his next words. “I don’t suppose you could tell me . . . what happened?”
“No, I can’t,” said Kali. “But you can show us her work space while you explain what exactly it was that she did on a day-to-day basis.”
There was a flash of irritation on his face, but he nodded. “Certainly,” he said. “Though I doubt this will be helpful.”
“I’ll decide that,” said Kali.
CHAPTER 8
Rising from his chair, O’Connor walked past Kali and Hara to the door. He led them back out into the hallway, but instead of turning toward the reception area, he walked across the hall to a door with a sign showing the diagram of a staircase. He held it open and they walked through, waiting on the inner landing as he closed the door and headed down a cement staircase. They fell in behind him as he made his way down to a landing one level below his office. From here, they followed him along another hallway that ended at a set of double doors. There was the sound of machinery coming from within.
O’Connor lifted a key card from a lanyard around his neck and held it up against an electronic reader beside the door. A muted buzzing sound indicated the doors had unlocked, and he pushed them open and stepped inside. Kali and Hara were right behind him. They stopped short, taken aback by the difference between the level of activity in this area and the quiet halls on the floor above.
Kali looked around. A group of three people in lab coats were assembled around a low platform that held a long, narrow device that reminded her of a torpedo. Other than one man who glanced up and nodded in acknowledgment to O’Connor, no one else paid any real attention to their presence—they seemed preoccupied with tinkering with the object in front of them.
“Is that some kind of a missile?” asked Hara, his voice tinged with alarm.
“No,” said O’Connor. “It’s a very sensitive underwater sonar device equipped with precision sensors. It’s shaped that way to be streamlined—to help it move smoothly through the water without resistance. This particular unit is one that’s carried in a special apparatus beneath our research vessels. Other larger ROV units—remotely operated vehicles—are deployed from the ship’s deck. We use most of them to help us identify likely areas to test for mineral deposits.”
“And is this what Maya Holmes was working on?”
“Only on the periphery.” O’Connor peered at Kali, then looked at Hara, as though weighing something. “I guess this is probably well outside the realm of police training, but do either of you have any exposure to robotic technology?”
Kali stared back at him. “Not this kind, no. But I think we can follow along, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She watched as a scowl formed on his face.
“I’m sure you can,” he said.
Judging by his tone, Kali sensed that he didn’t think she was capable of finding her own way out of the building. She tried not to smile. “Did Miss Holmes have her own office?” she asked, redirecting the conversation.
“Not as such, no. Like most everyone here, she used one of the workstations over there, against the wall. Part of that long bench.”
He made no move to walk toward the area he’d pointed out. Kali watched him, wondering if the news of Maya’s death had distracted him to the point of being useless.
“Please show me exactly where,” she said.
“Oh, of course.” He moved to a section of the station at the very end of the counter. Behind the flat space that was used as a desk was a narrow strip of corkboard. There was a schedule pierced with a colorful pushpin, a small photograph of a tree-fringed lagoon, and several charts and graphs. There was no computer visible, and no discernible drawer or shelf beneath the surface that might have concealed one.
“Did Miss Holmes have a computer that was dedicated to her work?”
“Well, yes—but of course, it wasn’t technically her property. All staff members are issued computers that are linked with our internal network.”
“And do you know where the computer is?”
O’Connor shook his head. “I’m sure she had it with her. I guess . . . well, I know it isn’t here, so maybe it’s at her home?”
A woman with long blond hair streaked with gray was standing with the others near the sonar equipment. She watched as Kali and Hara looked through the things on Maya’s desk space. As Kali lifted the paper charts to look beneath them, the woman walked over.
“Sorry to intrude,” she said, looking nervously from O’Connor to Hara’s uniform. “I just wondered if everything is okay.”
“Everything’s fine, Jody. You can go back to what you were doing,” said O’Connor.
“It’s just that I’ve been worried about Maya. Trying to get in touch with her, with no luck.” She looked at Hara’s uniform, the distress evident in her voice.
“As I said . . .” began O’Connor, but Kali held up her hand, interrupting him.
“Are you a friend of Maya Holmes?” she asked the other woman. She tried not to stare at the woman’s face, which was creased with a deep scar that ran from the corner of her left eyebrow to the edge of her upper lip.
Jody nodded. “Yes. Sure. I’m Jody. Jody Phillips. We were supposed to go for a swim over the weekend. She was training for a race, and I was going to time her, but I never heard from her, and she hasn’t returned my calls.” Her eyes fixed on Hara’s badge. “When I saw that you’re a policeman, I just got more worried.”
“I’m afraid there’s bad news,” said Kali. “Maybe we could step out into the hallway and chat for a few minutes?”
“Oh, no,” said the woman, her voice dropping. She swayed slightly, and Kali took her by the arm and led her to the door.
Hara reached forward, pulling out the desk chair from the counter. He followed Kali to the doorway and lifted the chair into the hallway, placing it against the wall while using one foot to keep the door propped open. Kali nodded to him, indicating that he should go back into the laboratory.
“Don’t let O’Connor or anyone else disturb us,” she said, her voice low. “Get a statement from him about his whereabouts from last Friday evening to Sunday afternoon, and find out who those other people are and get their contact information. We’ll need statements from them as well.”
Nodding, Hara stepped back inside. The door closed behind him.
The woman looked at the chair and sat down, her eyes filled with worry. As her gaze met Kali’s, the detective was struck by the same sense of dread she had seen in countless other friends, family, and loved ones connected to the victims of violent crimes. They’re all victims, she thought. A killer takes a life and damages the lives of all those left behind, leaving them trying to navigate their way through an aftermath of fear and despair and loss.
And then she had another thought: I know exactly how that feels.
* * *
Hara sat behind the wheel of his police cruiser, peering out the windshield at the traffic on the road ahead of him.
“What do you think about what Maya’s friend said?” asked Kali.
“The woman with the scar who said she hadn’t heard from her all weekend?” Hara frowned. “I think she was telling the truth.”
“Yes. Me, too.” She looked out the window, watching the lush green scenery slip by, marveling at how such an exquisite landscape could hide so much that was unpleasant. “Everything else she had to say tallies with what Charlie already told us. It’s interesting to me that Maya had so few relationships, but I suppose that helps us narrow down possible suspects who had a personal connection to her.”
“None of those other people in the lab had much to add,” said Hara. “The two men are people who work in the engineering division, and were just there to look at that machine. We’ve got all their contact info and statements, but from what they said, they didn’t seem to really know her. That seems weird—to work in the same space with the same people, but to not really know anything about them.”
He looked over at Kali, who had wrapped her arms around her chest. He reached toward the dashboard, adjusting the air conditioner. “I guess the other thing is that I never realized how much time an officer spends interviewing people,” he said. He glanced at her, his expression serious. “Especially a detective. Do you ever get tired of it?”
“No,” she answered. “I think of it as working out a riddle or a puzzle. You know. One clue or piece at a time, or a few when you get lucky. You spread them all out in your mind, and then you look for the ones that fit together. Eventually a picture reveals itself, and you see the connections.”
