“I’m going to talk to Will Dorner next, the other guy from Dan’s group,” Duncan said, “and after that the girl, whose name is Cindy Whitaker. I want you to come out when Cindy is done and find a way to get close to all of them.”
“Why?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Fair enough.” I knew he wanted to see what kind of reactions I had when I was near them. What I didn’t know was why, or what he was looking for. And, I realized, that was probably for the best. At least that way I couldn’t be accused of being swayed by the power of suggestion, though as I stared at Duncan’s smiling face and warm brown eyes through the glass, I definitely felt swayed. Except, the types of suggestions that were running through my mind had nothing to do with the crime we were investigating.
Duncan left the interrogation room and returned a few minutes later with a tall, attractive fellow who had a thick head of brown hair with a shock that liked to fall down over one of his hazel eyes, and a typically masculine build: broad shoulders, narrow hips, and muscular arms. In response to Duncan’s questions, he stated that his name was Will Dorner, and that he had worked for Stratford and Weber for a little over four years. He spoke easily and freely, and there was a relaxed confidence in his body language that told me he was comfortable around other people. He had a strong Boston accent, and when he spoke it triggered a sweet vanilla taste that bordered on being overpowering, kind of like eating a too-rich dessert. The flavor sensations I get are typically bursts of taste that hit hard and fade fast, but occasionally they linger. That was the case with Will and it created an interesting medley of flavors in my mouth when his voice’s lingering flavor mixed with the various chocolate tastes that Duncan’s voice always triggered for me.
Duncan ran Will through the same basic litany of questions he’d used on Theo, questions about the firm, the peer groups, how well he knew his coworkers, and whether he’d ever been inside Dan Thornton’s apartment. Will answered each question without hesitation, providing basic minimal information, but never once providing more information than was asked for. He sat slightly slumped in the chair, one arm casually tossed over the back of it, his legs extended out to the side, his ankles crossed. The fingers on the hand of the arm that hung over the back of the chair were beating a gentle rhythm on the frame. The other hand was also in constant motion as Will played with a fifty-cent piece, flipping it back and forth between his fingers and occasionally rubbing his thumb along its edge. Aside from these nervous activities, he appeared to be someone who didn’t have a care in the world. At one point, he looked over at the window and I could have sworn he was looking right at me. He flashed a little know-it-all grin, gave a slight nod of his head, and then turned his attention back to Duncan. Even though Duncan had told me the glass was a mirror on the other side, I reared back, unsettled by Will’s glance.
His voice maintained its overly sweet flavor until Duncan asked him if he’d ever stolen anything. Unlike Theo, Will didn’t answer right away. His hands stopped moving and he narrowed his eyes at Duncan before saying, “Are you asking me if I’ve ever stolen anything in my entire life?”
“Have you?” Duncan asked.
“Sure,” Will said with a shrug. “When I was a kid, I used to take money from my father’s dresser drawer and use it to buy candy. And I remember getting into trouble for stealing a kid’s watch once when I was in grade school.”
“How about on the job?” Duncan asked. “Have you ever stolen from an employer?”
“Hell no,” Will said, looking indignant. His voice took on a salty, almost bitter, taste. He straightened up in the chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And, frankly, I resent you asking that question. I thought you wanted to talk to me about Dan. From what I heard, he’s the one who stole the money. Don’t try to drag me into it.”
“So it’s common knowledge at Stratford and Weber that money is missing?” Duncan asked.
“Yeah, there was an internal audit at the end of last month and rumors have been circulating ever since. Everyone has been on pins and needles. And then we heard about Dan.”
“So you think Dan took the money?”
“That’s what I heard.” It was a cagey answer, one that didn’t require an out-and-out lie on his part if he was involved, but that also didn’t implicate anyone else. The flavor of his voice when he said it was an odd mix of sweet vanilla and salt, like the taste of a salted pecan eaten in a spoonful of ice cream sundae.
I had the distinct impression that Will Dorner was a smooth operator, someone who was used to being able to sway people to his opinions and confident in his ability to do so. Given more time, I feared he would become one of those people who could lie easily and without guilt. But he hadn’t made it to that stage yet. He was good, but I thought there was still enough self-awareness when he lied for me to be able to pick up on it. I spoke into the mike and gave Duncan some directions. He acknowledged that he’d heard me with a slight nod.
“Tell me exactly what it is you heard about Dan Thornton,” Duncan said.
“Shelly told Cindy that he hanged himself and left a note that said he was sorry for taking people’s money. Supposedly the note said something about borrowing the money and thinking he could make it back.”
Once again I had to admire Will’s ability to avoid an actual lie.
“Do you think Dan Thornton hanged himself?” Duncan asked.
Will hesitated before answering this time, chewing his lower lip and frowning as he thought about what to say. “Are you suggesting he didn’t?” he said finally.
Damn! The kid was smarter than I’d given him credit for.
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Duncan said, keeping his own voice even. “I’m simply asking you if you think Dan Thornton was the type of person who would hang himself.”
“I’d say yes, given that, from what I heard, he did exactly that.”
“And do you also think he stole money from the firm? Yes or no, please.”
“Yes,” Will said after a moment of hesitation. He was still leaning forward, elbows on his knees, but his feet tapped nervously, making it clear that he didn’t like what Duncan was doing.
I said something into the mike and Duncan responded accordingly.
“Did you have anything to do with Dan Thornton’s death or the money he stole?” he asked. Will opened his mouth to answer but before he could, Duncan added, “Yes or no, please.”
“No.” His answer, short as it was, tasted bitter and briny, like a mouthful of seaweed soaked in salt water.
“He didn’t like that last question,” I said through the mike. “His voice is different all of a sudden, but I can’t be sure if he’s actually involved or just angry that he’s a suspect.”
Duncan switched gears then, asking Will about his social life and the time he spent with his coworkers outside of the firm. Will talked about the group’s outings, naming a couple of places they liked to go, and verified Dan and Theo’s gaming sessions.
Whenever Will mentioned Cindy’s name during this discussion, I detected a change in his voice that made me suspect something. I was about to share my suspicions with Duncan, but before I could, Duncan showed me that we were both thinking along the same lines.
That’s when Dan Thornton’s case got really interesting.