Page 85 of The Bone Code
“I can observe via Zoom.”
A hitch, then, “I might consider it, seeing as you found the guy.”
“What reason will you give him?”
“I’ll think of one.”
“And if he won’t come to you?”
“He will.”
I didn’t doubt that for a second.
“Could be the breakthrough we need,” I said.
“If not a breakthrough, at least it’s a crack.”
20
Wednesday, November 10
Vislosky had placed a laptop on the far side of a two-way mirror. Before joining Huger, she’d emailed me a Zoom link. Not sure of the legality of that, but I didn’t ask.
The image was shadowed, the sound hollow and staticky. Still, the feed was good enough to provide a sense of Huger and to follow the conversation.
The interview room resembled scores of others I’d seen over the years. Cinder-block walls. Tile floor. Scarred gray metal table, three metal chairs. Wall phone. Recording equipment high up in one corner.
Huger was seated at the table wearing an ecru linen blazer over a pink knit shirt with a perky palm tree emblem on his left chest pocket, tan chinos, and loafers. No socks. Passing time with his iPhone, he seemed surprisingly relaxed for a guy called into a cop shop.
Huger looked up when the door opened. Even with the lousy feed, I could tell that his tanned face was far too smooth for a man of fifty-seven. He’d obviously had work done. And done well. Groomed and plucked brows curved above very blue eyes. I couldn’t tell if the startling turquoise was the real deal or courtesy of tinted contact lenses.
“Thank you so much for coming in.” Vislosky was uncharacteristically pleasant. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“It’s no problem at all, detective.” Huger’s vowels were as thick as day-old grits. “Though I must admit I’m baffled.” Baffled smile.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“No, ma’am. Thank you for offering.”
Huger watched Vislosky cross the room, take the chair opposite his, and place a mug and a file folder on the table. Then his eyes rose to the video camera.
“Will you be recording our conversation?”
“Would you prefer that I do?”
Huger flapped a hand, the gesture balletic in its fluidity. “What’s all this about? Safety at my place of business?”
“No, sir. It’s nothing like that.” Vislosky sipped her coffee, then cocked her head in satisfaction. “Gotta have that jolt in the morning. Are you certain you don’t want a cup?”
Huger shook his head. Certain.
“It’s doctor, right?”
“It is. But there’s no need for formalities.”
“Doctor of what?”
“Biochemistry and software engineering.”
