and shook out all the powder he could. Then he put a small amount of it into a test tube. Using a pipette, he dripped a couple ounces of water into the tube. The powder bubbled furiously. “It looks like potassium, and it reacts to water like potassium.”
He pulled off the gloves and put on a fresh pair, going back to the disc. He dusted it off with a large fingerprint brush, then held it up to the light. “No latents.” Out of a box that dispensed them, he took a sterile cloth and wiped the disc off on both sides. He did it twice more with fresh cloths and then took off his mask, glasses, and gloves. “That should do it.”
Vail took it by the edges and touched his fingertip to the non-play side of the disc, testing it for any reaction to the moisture from his hand. There was none. He asked Wilhelm for a plastic protective sleeve and dropped it into his side jacket pocket.
Kate said, “Nate, we don’t want this to show up on any paperwork. Will that cause you any problems?”
“Less paperwork is never a problem, Kate.”
“Thanks.”
As Kate and Vail started toward the elevator, he said, “Should we wait until tomorrow to see what’s on this?”
“Like you could wait.”
He laughed. “I was just trying to see how tired you were.”
When the elevator door opened, the only passenger, a black man, said, “Steve Vail?”
It was Luke Bursaw, an agent Vail had worked with in Detroit more than five years earlier. “Luke,” Vail said, shaking hands with him. “What are you doing here?”
“I finally got my ‘office of preference’ transfer. I’m at the Washington Field Office now, working general criminal. Are you back with the Bureau?”
Vail looked at Kate. “I’m sorry. This is Kate Bannon. She’s—”
“Sure, I remember Kate from Detroit. And now she’s a deputy assistant director. We get most of the memos over at WFO. How are you, Kate?” He extended his hand.
Kate took it. She remembered him because he was the only agent Vail had worked with in Detroit, usually when a difficult arrest needed to be made. The most memorable one was where Vail and Bursaw came barging into the office with four bank robbers handcuffed together early one morning. One of them, also wanted for murder, had been on Michigan’s ten-most-wanted list. It happened shortly after she’d arrived in Detroit, and the thing that had always stuck with her was that no one seemed to think it was out of the ordinary, at least not for Vail.
Bursaw had gone to Penn on a wrestling scholarship and majored in philosophy. He’d gained a couple of pounds since she’d last seen him, but he still seemed to move with an athlete’s ease. “And I remember you, Luke. What brings a WFO agent here at this time of night?”
“I caught a couple of shifts as night supervisor that nobody wanted—you know, holiday pay. And I had some evidence to drop off at the lab on the way home.” Bursaw turned back to Vail. “One thing I do know about you, Steve, is how good you were at ducking questions. So what are you doing here?”
“Actually, I am back with the Bureau, sort of as an independent contractor, working with Kate.”
Bursaw glanced at him carefully, letting Vail know that there were still holes in his story that would be queried later. “Small world. Where are you staying?”
“Over on Sixteenth Street.”
“Any chance we could get together? Share some lies over a beer?”
“Sure. I’ll give you a call.”
“Actually, I’ve got a problem, and you’re the perfect person to run it by.”
“What kind of problem?”
“A woman from headquarters, an intelligence analyst, went missing a few months back, and I wound up with the case. So far I’m getting nowhere.”
Vail took the DVD out of his jacket and handed it to Kate. “Any reason this can’t wait until morning?” he asked her.
“It can wait. Besides, I am beat.”
“We’ll get a running start at it first thing tomorrow.”
“Sure.” The elevator opened
He pulled off the gloves and put on a fresh pair, going back to the disc. He dusted it off with a large fingerprint brush, then held it up to the light. “No latents.” Out of a box that dispensed them, he took a sterile cloth and wiped the disc off on both sides. He did it twice more with fresh cloths and then took off his mask, glasses, and gloves. “That should do it.”
Vail took it by the edges and touched his fingertip to the non-play side of the disc, testing it for any reaction to the moisture from his hand. There was none. He asked Wilhelm for a plastic protective sleeve and dropped it into his side jacket pocket.
Kate said, “Nate, we don’t want this to show up on any paperwork. Will that cause you any problems?”
“Less paperwork is never a problem, Kate.”
“Thanks.”
As Kate and Vail started toward the elevator, he said, “Should we wait until tomorrow to see what’s on this?”
“Like you could wait.”
He laughed. “I was just trying to see how tired you were.”
When the elevator door opened, the only passenger, a black man, said, “Steve Vail?”
It was Luke Bursaw, an agent Vail had worked with in Detroit more than five years earlier. “Luke,” Vail said, shaking hands with him. “What are you doing here?”
“I finally got my ‘office of preference’ transfer. I’m at the Washington Field Office now, working general criminal. Are you back with the Bureau?”
Vail looked at Kate. “I’m sorry. This is Kate Bannon. She’s—”
“Sure, I remember Kate from Detroit. And now she’s a deputy assistant director. We get most of the memos over at WFO. How are you, Kate?” He extended his hand.
Kate took it. She remembered him because he was the only agent Vail had worked with in Detroit, usually when a difficult arrest needed to be made. The most memorable one was where Vail and Bursaw came barging into the office with four bank robbers handcuffed together early one morning. One of them, also wanted for murder, had been on Michigan’s ten-most-wanted list. It happened shortly after she’d arrived in Detroit, and the thing that had always stuck with her was that no one seemed to think it was out of the ordinary, at least not for Vail.
Bursaw had gone to Penn on a wrestling scholarship and majored in philosophy. He’d gained a couple of pounds since she’d last seen him, but he still seemed to move with an athlete’s ease. “And I remember you, Luke. What brings a WFO agent here at this time of night?”
“I caught a couple of shifts as night supervisor that nobody wanted—you know, holiday pay. And I had some evidence to drop off at the lab on the way home.” Bursaw turned back to Vail. “One thing I do know about you, Steve, is how good you were at ducking questions. So what are you doing here?”
“Actually, I am back with the Bureau, sort of as an independent contractor, working with Kate.”
Bursaw glanced at him carefully, letting Vail know that there were still holes in his story that would be queried later. “Small world. Where are you staying?”
“Over on Sixteenth Street.”
“Any chance we could get together? Share some lies over a beer?”
“Sure. I’ll give you a call.”
“Actually, I’ve got a problem, and you’re the perfect person to run it by.”
“What kind of problem?”
“A woman from headquarters, an intelligence analyst, went missing a few months back, and I wound up with the case. So far I’m getting nowhere.”
Vail took the DVD out of his jacket and handed it to Kate. “Any reason this can’t wait until morning?” he asked her.
“It can wait. Besides, I am beat.”
“We’ll get a running start at it first thing tomorrow.”
“Sure.” The elevator opened
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