Dead Hunt

sleep through it. And Riddmann knew she did. So what was this about? Comeuppance for Adler?
‘‘Of course I’m sticking by my account,’’ said Diane. ‘‘It’s the truth.’’
‘‘Maybe you just don’t remember,’’ said Riddmann.
‘‘What would be the mechanism that would cause sudden amnesia in me?’’ said Diane.
‘‘People do have experiences they don’t remember later . . . for any number of reasons,’’ said Riddmann.
‘‘It would be unprecedented in me,’’ said Diane. ‘‘Let’s look for horses and not zebras. Blood and urine samples were taken from me at the hospital. Do you have the results?’’ asked Diane.
He glanced at his watch on his left wrist and back up at Diane. ‘‘You’ve been having a lot of stress at the museum. Then an escaped prisoner breaks into your home. Perhaps that caused some kind of mental break,’’ he said.
The marshals shifted in their seats. Diane didn’t think they were happy with Riddmann’s questions. Maybe they sensed another agenda—or maybe they just wanted him to hurry and ask where she hid the body.
‘‘No stress, just bad newspaper articles,’’ said Diane. ‘‘If I blanked out every time there was stress at the museum, I would be in a constant state of sleepwalking. I didn’t black out; I don’t have amnesia. Do you have the tox screens back?’’
‘‘It’s just a few more questions. What do you think happened?’’ he asked in a voice meant to tell her he was trying now to be friendly.
This was another of the trap questions. Get the suspect to come up with a scenario that will reveal that he, or she, has more information than he or she should. Diane rolled her eyes—and it set Riddmann off. He slammed his fist on the table.
‘‘Look, we’ve been very accommodating to you. We could be having this conversation downtown with the press waiting outside. Anyone else, we would have. You’ve been getting a free ride because of your political connections, your status with the crime lab and with the museum. From your performance here and what I’ve been reading in the newspaper, you aren’t doing a very good job in either.’’
Diane placed her hands on the table and leaned forward. She would have stood up, but under the circumstances Riddmann might think she was about to attack him. The mention of her political connections and the references to the newspaper articles about the museum tweaked her suspicions and she could feel her face flush. It was clear now what was going on. Vanessa Van Ross was politically opposite from Riddmann’s mentor, Adler, and over the years had done considerable damage to Adler’s and his friends’ plans for the city. Vanessa was too wealthy and well connected to take on directly, but attacking the museum was a different matter. Everyone who knew Vanessa, knew the museum was like her child. Hurt the museum, hurt her.
‘‘Are you the one feeding the press misinformation about the museum?’’ she asked.
Riddmann’s eyes widened. He glanced down at his watch and back up at Diane. He hesitated too long to speak and Diane knew she was right. Or thought she was right. But what could this idiot know about Egyptian artifacts?
‘‘Don’t think you can deflect attention from yourself by accusing me,’’ he said.
‘‘I think there have been some misunderstandings,’’ said Garnett. ‘‘No one is accusing anyone of anything. We are just fact finding. In answer to your question, Diane, yes, your tox screen came back positive for barbiturates. Do you take sleeping pills?’’
‘‘No,’’ she said.
‘‘She could have taken them after her run-in with Clymene,’’ said Riddmann, clearly smarting from Diane’s accusation.
Diane had wanted to tell him he should have left the questioning to the marshals, that he was no good at it—as his low conviction rate attested to. But she held her tongue. Her former boss and mentor at World Accord International was always telling her that silence is just as important in diplomacy as all manner of words—especially if the words you choose are wrong.
‘‘Then I would have been forensically processed at the was drugged,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I need to find out when and how. If someone had access to my apartment, then they had access to anything I ate or drank.’’
‘‘Your own people didn’t find anything,’’ said Riddmann.
He glared at her and Diane knew that if he hadn’t been an enemy before, he was now. That was the trouble with