Delusion in Death

could handle this better. I’m good in a crisis. I keep my head. But this … Can’t you tell us something?”

    “I’ll tell you what I can once I’ve gotten Mr. Vann’s statement. Let’s take it to your office,” she decided. “Roarke? With me.”
    She walked to the door, paused while the three exchanged looks.
    “No problem.” Salesman smile back in place, Vann crossed to the door. “It’s just down the hall.”
    As they walked, Roarke pulled out his PPC, gave it his attention. Rude, Eve thought. Just what she’d wanted.
    Eve noted nameplates: Callaway’s office, Cattery’s, a large area of cubes and assistants’ desks, then Vann’s—a corner deal easily three times the size of hers at Central.
    “I didn’t notice Ms. Weaver’s office,” Eve commented.
    “Oh, she’s on the other side of the department. Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
    “I’m good. Have a seat.” She gestured to one of the two visitor’s chairs facing the desk, gave Roarke a subtle signal.
    “You don’t mind, do you?” Roarke asked even as he sat at Vann’s desk.
    “No.” Obviously nonplussed, Vann spread his hands. “Help yourself.”
    “I’ll be recording this, and I’m going to read you your rights.”
    “What? Why?”
    “It’s routine, and for your protection.” She rattled off the Revised Miranda. “Do you understand your rights and obligations?”
    “Yes, of course, but—”
    “It’s just standard procedure. Why don’t you tell me about yesterday, before you left for your shuttle?”
    “I’m sure Nancy and Lew told you that we—and Joe—had been working on a major campaign for some weeks.”
    “Your campaign. You were on point.”

    “Yes. I actually pulled in the account, so I headed up the project. I was due to give the presentation first thing this morning, and traveled yesterday evening to have dinner with the client, talk it up. As I said, I was at dinner when Lew called to tell me about Joe.”
    “You all went to the bar together.”
    “That’s right. We knocked off a little early as we’d finished the project. We all wanted to celebrate, just have a drink—and talk it through again.”
    “Whose idea was it to go have a drink, and at that particular bar?”
    “I … I’m not sure. It was more or less a group decision. It’s the usual watering hole for the company. It’s so close, and it’s a nice spot. Joe may have suggested the drink, and we’d all just assumed that’s where. We left together, arrived together. Grabbed bar seats. Actually, it was already crowded, and I stood at the bar. I couldn’t stay long. I left a few minutes after five, took the car service to the transpo station.”
    “You must have had your presentation, your overnight, briefcase.”
    “In the car. I’d given all but my briefcase to the driver.”
    “Did anything strike you as odd or unusual at the bar?”
    “Nothing. It seemed like the typical happy hour crowd. I saw a few people from the office spread around.”
    “You go there a lot?”
    “Once or twice a week, yes. With coworkers, or with a client.”
    “So you see a lot of the same faces.”
    “Yeah. People you don’t know necessarily.”
    “And how did Joe get along with the rest of you, the others in the office?”
    “Joe? He was a go-to guy. If you needed an answer, an opinion, a little help, you could count on him.”

    “No problem with you coming in, snagging a corner office?”
    “Joe wasn’t like that.” He spread his hands. His wrist unit—platinum, she’d bet her ass—winked. “Listen, some people might think I got a leg up, but the fact is I’m good at what I do. I’ve proven myself.” He leaned forward now, exuding sincerity. “I don’t flaunt my connection with the top. I don’t have to.”
    “This major campaign, no problems with you taking point? Making the presentation solo.”
    “Like I said, I brought in the client. I don’t look for special treatment, but I don’t step back when I’ve earned something. I don’t understand what this has to do with what happened to Joe.”
    “Just getting a feel for the dynamics around here,” she said easily. “You’d understand that, getting a feel for how people work—alone and together. What they look for, what they want, how they work to get it.”
    His smile came back. “I’m in the wrong business if I don’t. It’s competitive, that’s the nature of the beast and what keeps things vital and fresh. But we know how to work together to