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is gonna cry. The tears didn’t come, but when he went on, there was a hitch in his voice. “My God, but if I had only known he would prove to be a killer.”
    “We don’t know that he is Dr. Bradley’s killer yet,” I pointed out.
    His face wrinkled into an expression somewhere between indignation and surprise. “Not her killer?” he said. “You must be joking. I would have thought that was patently obvious. Or is this going to be yet another example of the San Antonio corruption we’ve already seen so much of?”
    I ignored that. “We haven’t spoken to Officer Wade yet,” I said. “We’ll know more when we do, but for now, we’re gonna concern ourselves with the 24 hours prior to her death. The most critical points for our investigation will have happened during that time.”
    Myers rolled his eyes, passive-aggressive style. He didn’t believe a word I was saying.
    A printer in a little cubby on the wall to my left started spitting out papers and a lab tech came into the door without knocking. She looked at Dr. Myers, then at Chunk and me and her eyes got very big.
    “I’m sorry,” she said.
    “It’s fine, Angie,” he said. He rose from his chair and took her document off the printer and handed it to her. “Give us a moment, love,” he said.
    She nodded and he closed the door behind her.
    “We have small quarters here,” he said by way of apology, and went back to his chair.
    “We could use some help generating that timeline, Dr. Myers.”
    He nodded.
    I said, “We know about the fight. What time did that happen?”
    “You mean when I was assaulted by one of your officers?”
    “Yes sir. What time was that?”
    “Two o’clock. Maybe two-thirty.”
    “And what time did this party get started?” I asked.
    “Ten-thirty. We left from here at perhaps ten-fifteen, after we shut down the lab.”
    “The lounge is in the main building, correct?”
    “Yes,” he said, and crossed his arms over his chest. In the interviewing schools they sent us to when Chunk and I became detectives we learned little things like crossing your arms across your chest or where you point your eyes are indications of defensiveness or lying, but with Myers I got the feeling he was simply holding himself, trying to keep his composure. “Second floor, east side of the building.”
    “Was Officer Wade with you when you left here for the party?”
    “He showed up later. Maybe twenty to eleven.”
    “And afterwards? After Officer Wade hit you? What happened then?”
    “After he mauled me he stood in the middle of the room, yelling obscenities at everyone there. He was a beast. He dared us to fight him. When no one did, he stormed out. We didn’t see him again until this morning.”
    “We didn’t?”
    “I didn’t.”
    “And after the fight?” I asked. “Where did you go?”
    “I walked Dr. Bradley back to her trailer. When she was safely inside, I returned to my trailer.”
    “Do you know if maybe Officer Wade tried to contact her again last night?”
    “I don’t know if he did or not. Her lights went out at three-fifty or so. As did my own.”
    Out of the corner of my eye I saw Chunk rocking back and forth in his chair and I could tell we were thinking the same thing.
Little Mr. Lonelyhearts sure keeps close tabs on his girlfriend. Things to make you go hmmm.
    “How about this morning?” I asked. “Where did you go after Dr. Bradley and Officer Wade left here?”
    He cocked his head at an odd angle, like I’d just started speaking Hebrew or something. And then he said, “Oh. Detective, are you suggesting that I…”
    “I’m asking a question, Dr. Myers. Nothing more. I’m going to ask the same question to every member of the staff.”
    “Oh. Well, I was here. Till around ten-thirty. From here, I went down on the loading docks, where I collected lung tissue specimens for our experiments.”
    “Okay,” I told him. “And there are others who can vouch for you?”
    “For someone who is just asking