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“You can thank me later.”
“Uh, yeah, I wasn’t actually thinking of thanking you.”
Sam’s grin turned a little wolfish. “Then I’ll thank you later.”
“Anyway, as I was saying, the Thompsons aren’t in a bad position legally right now. They’ve reached a tentative agreement with the Aaldenberg van Apeldoorn Museum, the government’s official position for now is that they are cooperating… I don’t see that they have any motive for wanting to be rid of de Haan. Or me. And if they don’t have a motive, why would Sandford have a motive?”
“That’s my point,” Sam said. “It’s possible Sandford went into that situation with expectations we’re unaware of.”
“He was in stealth mode, that’s another thing.”
Sam made an inquiring sound.
“He arrived on scene Code 2, no lights, no siren. I’ll guarantee it. He was there way before the rest of his team.”
Sam shook his head. “There could be a lot of reasons for that.”
Could there? Jason couldn’t think of any offhand. De Haan’s battered head and staring eyes flashed into his mind, and his stomach lurched. He wished he hadn’t eaten. But no, Sam was right. He couldn’t run forever on caffeine and booze, not if things were going to continue like today.
Maybe he should take up smoking.
“Something funny?” Sam inquired.
“No. Definitely not.” He sighed and made himself eat a couple more bites. He was on the verge of getting smashed, and that would not be helpful.
Sam said, “So he threatened to arrest you, tossed you out of his crime scene—”
“Even the way de Haan was killed,” Jason interrupted. He couldn’t help circling back to the thing preying on him the most. “That crime scene.”
“Go on.”
“He was fully dressed, lying face up on the made bed. It looked like he’d been hit from behind. There was significant head trauma, but the blood was all—or at least mostly—on de Haan’s clothes. If he’d been attacked in that room, there was nothing to show for it. No blood spray, no overturned furniture, no soaked sheets… His laptop was there, his phone was there. No attempt had been made to hide him or set the scene to look like a robbery or anything else. I just don’t understand.”
“And you’re not likely to get a copy of the forensics report from Sandford.”
“Hell no.” Jason took another bite of salad, swallowed, said bleakly, “JDLR.”
Sam grimaced at the copspeak for Just Doesn’t Look Right.
“De Haan is a stranger in town. Hell, he’s a stranger in the country. What is the motive for murdering him?”
Sam said, “It sounds like you have a theory.”
“I wish. But if it’s a random attack, how does that happen? If it didn’t happen in his motel room, and it sure didn’t look like it to me—”
“You can’t know without seeing the forensics report.”
“Okay, fair enough, appearances can be deceiving, and it’s just supposition so far, but if he wasn’t killed in that room, if it was a random attack, why on earth would his murderer take him back to his motel room?”
“Possible theories?”
Jason grimaced. “He was killed in a mugging, and Police Chief Sandford had his body returned to his motel room so as not to upset the tourist trade.”
Sam snorted. “You don’t believe that.”
“Hell no, I don’t believe that. It has to do with van Apeldoorn v. Thompson. But then…like I said, there really isn’t any motive for murder.” He thought it over. “Except…”
“Except?”
