I hate when he does that. He takes this little factoid that might not even exist - whether or not she dyed her hair - and makes everything hinge on it. Granted, Bloodstone lives in his own universe, which gives him a tourist's perspective on ours, but how her being worth L'Oreal would point us to the murderer completely escaped me.
Jensen didn't seem terribly impressed, either, though she did stare at him awaiting an explanation that never did come.
Before she could ask him to elucidate, Paradise Valley detective Barry Kent entered the office. Barry had been here a couple of times before - his tea preference was Darjeeling, which I set to making right away - consulting Bloodstone on cases where psychics were offering advice. He used Bloodstone as a psychic bullshit meter, sorting wheat from chaff. Kent had sent people to Bloodstone when the detective felt they were vulnerable to psychic scams. The one case I remember best was that of a family whose twelve-year old daughter had gone missing. Bloodstone made sure they were sharp enough that no fraud would con them out of money while promising more than could ever be delivered.
Kent, who is about a third again as tall as Bloodstone, and very lean, nodded a greeting. "I've cleared interviewing folks here with the Chief, provided I'm present and all the formalities are met with. Having a call from your people, Terri, helped a great deal in making his mind up. I'm set to go. Can we do video?"
Bloodstone scrunched his face up. "Audio only, please. Connor, is the system working?"
I turned away from the makings of tea, punched up a program on the G4 Cube at my desk, and put the recording system online. "Pick-ups are live from the couch and chairs."
Agent Jensen smiled. "Audio will have to do, I guess. I think the best approach is to establish alibis and motives. We know the knife used was from the kitchen, so anyone who had access to the house had the means to commit the murder. We need to know who had keys."
The detective came over and took a mug of first-flush Darjeeling from me and appropriated the nearest of the leather chairs. "Dot-coms are risky, so I think the money angle to this is going to be important. I want it covered."
Bloodstone picked up his cup and saucer, then moved to the centermost of the leather chairs. That was a relief because, given the snit he'd started the day in, I was afraid he was going to have everyone turn the chairs around while he remained behind his desk. As it was, he did manage to nudge his chair out of line and back several inches, so both Agent Jensen and Detective Kent would have to turn a bit to see him.
Kent sipped his mug, then lowered it. "My people are bringing her close associates in. One is here now, the chief programmer at Thothsoft. His name is Raymond Exner. The others are on their way. I'll have them held in your front room and dining room when they get here."
Bloodstone nodded. "That will do. Connor, if you would summon Mr. Exner."
I went to the office door and signaled one of the Paradise Valley cops to send the programmer in. When Exner looked up I was pretty sure I recognized him, but I was having a devil of a time placing him. Then it came to me. I'd missed it because he had long pants on, and oxford shoes, a bit more paunch and a bit less hair, and not just from having had it cut. His hairline wasn't receding, his scalp had lost the war and was being occupied by the People's Republic of Baldness.
Bloodstone waved Exner to the couch. "Please, be seated. My condolences on the death of your employer."
"Thank you." He looked around the room. He seemed unimpressed with what he saw, but brightened up considerably when he saw the G4 Cube on my desk. "Sweet machine."
This admission brought a scowl to Bloodstone's face, since he resented the intrusions of the twentieth century in his life - tolerating the phone only because it was a nineteenth century invention. He would have said something, but Jensen leaned forward and spoke first. What she ended up saying was pretty much boilerplate and repeated to the others, so I'll put it down once, then only record the variances hereafter.
"Mr. Exner, I'm Special Agent Theresa Jensen of the FBI. We're looking into the death of Syndi Rooker. You knew her and undoubtedly have information we'll find useful in figuring out who did it. You are not under arrest. This is a preliminary investigation and we are taping our conversation. We're holding the interview here because Dr. Bloodstone has been consulting with us on a case that may be related."
"That Deathdealer thing?"
"Yes."
"Do I need a lawyer?"
Kent stretched. "If you want to call one, you can, but if you have nothing to hide, there's really no reason to bring one in on this, is there? If you want to stop at any point, we can do that."
Exner nodded and frowned. His face still had that pinched expression I recognized from disappointment or suspicion. He pointed at Bloodstone. "You two are cops, but what about him? Do I have to answer his questions?"
Bloodstone set his cup and saucer down on the table at his left. "I believe you will find mine less onerous than those asked by either Agent Jensen or Detective Kent, but you are under no obligation to answer me."
"Okay, well, let's go. I want to help you catch the guy who did this to Syndi."
Jensen began. "How long have you known the victim?"
"Six years. I was at Microsoft for four years before I met her, then she came aboard as a manager in our group. She had some ideas about the net, but no one wanted to listen. She bolted after a year and, um, convinced me to come down here with her to work on projects. It was just the two of us for a while, working on special business applications. That gave us the initial money for Thothsoft.
"About two years ago we started working on Voyager." His voice picked up a bit and he smiled, holding his hands before him as if he were hefting an invisible capsule slightly larger than a football. "It has everything, you know. Browser that's better than Explorer or Netscape, and chat and instant messaging that beats the snot out of ICQ or their clones. We're set up to add Napster and Gnutella modules to let folks provide a soundtrack to their webwanderings. It will smoke everything out there.
"And the best thing about it was that because folks would be hooked into our servers so they could chat and tour their friends around the web, we'd know what they were doing. We'll be getting all the data on where they go and what they see, then we'll be able to send them package tours of sites they'll like."
Kent nodded. "Like the casinos bundling gamblers on a bus and taking them to Laughlin."
"No, man, you're thinking too small. Not an e-mall thing, better. You want sites of prehistoric cave paintings, we've got them. Cutting edge science, we've got them."
Agent Jensen arched an eyebrow. "Tours of kiddie-porn sites."
Exner straightened up as if she'd slapped him with a transcript of the Microsoft anti-trust suit. "The net's about freedom, you know. I don't like those kinda creeps anymore than you do. Think of it this way, Agent Jensen, the pervos will be lining up to join you on some tour to stingland and you'll have them all wrapped up."
Kent held a hand up. "So, if this Voyager goes big, you'll make a ton of money, right?"
The programmer shrugged. "I suppose so. Doesn't matter, though, I had stock options from way back at Microsoft. I've got more money than I can use in a lifetime. I own a lot of Thothsoft, too. Stock's already dropping with news of Syndi's death, but it will be back. Voyager will see to that."
Kent sat back, so the Fed asked a question. "You can account for your whereabouts last evening?"
Exner nodded and yawned. "I left work about 9:30. Syndi had called and told me to knock off for the day. I got home about 10."
"Were you alone?"
"Sort of."
"Meaning?"
The programmer smiled slyly. "I was alone at the house, but logged into an IRC chat with Timothy Zahn about his Star Wars novels. There's a transcript at Jedinet.com. I logged in at 10:10, stayed to midnight, asked some questions. Then I played Everquest until four - plenty of folks saw me there and will verify I was online with them. After that I got some sleep and hit the office by nine. That's where you found me halfway through my first can of Jolt."
Jensen nodded. "Did you have access to the Rooker house? Did you have keys or know the security code?"
"I have keys and the security code numbers both." Exner shrugged. "Syndi headed up a software company, but she wasn't really conversant with software and hardware. I mean, she knew our stuff inside and out, and was great convincing clients to buy it, but installing stuff, recovering from a disk crash, all those sorts of things were beyond her. I'd get calls at all hours go to over and fix things, or install new software."
"You didn't mind getting called-on that way?"
"Nope. Part of the job."
Something in that answer prompted the barest flicker of a response from Bloodstone. "What do you know of the Tarot, Mr. Exner?"
The programmer shook his head. "Nothing much. In school I programmed a card randomizing routine and used Tarot cards because seventy-eight is more impressive than fifty-two. I wanted to do an interp module for the thing, but never got around to it."
"I see." Bloodstone sipped more Ti Kuan Yin. "There is some indication that Ms. Rooker was moving into a romantic relationship with someone. Would you know who that might be?"
Exner glanced down at his shoes. "Um, I guess that would be me."
This brought Jensen's head up. "You 'guess?' Were you dating?"
"Not exactly." He sighed. "Look, when Syndi left the Great Satan she came down here. She wanted me to join her to work on stuff, so I came down for a visit. One thing led to another and we had a thing, okay? So I came down and we saw each other for a while, then she got busy and I got busy and we drifted apart. With Voyager coming close to release, we were working closely again and things looked good for starting up again. We'd have time and all the money we needed."
Bloodstone lifted his chin. "Do you know if Ms. Rooker dyed her hair and, if so, what the original color was?"
Exner's grin broadened and he giggled a little. "She was a natural blonde."
The answer did not appear to impress Bloodstone. He finished his tea and then held his cup up to me. "More, please. Agent Jensen? Detective Kent?"
Bloodstone's inquiry broke any flow of the questions being asked of Exner. The other two continued with a few cursory questions about any enemies Rooker had, anyone she owed money to, and the like; but the responses amounted to very little. Basically, for someone who had dated her four years ago, and had worked for her since, Exner really knew little or nothing of Syndi Rooker's private life.
Then again, if he was spending time on the net chatting and playing Everquest - an online game addictive enough to be known as Evercrack - he had a private life about as exciting as a meal of saltine crackers - without the salt. The law enforcement officers said they would be checking on things and then, at Bloodstone's suggestion, asked Exner to stick around in case they had more questions.
The PV cop escorted Exner from the room while I was brewing Bloodstone some more tea.
"Connor," he began.
I turned my head and scowled at him. "Yes, I recognized him. I knew him for several years. Not his full name, just as Ray. And I saw her with him a couple of times, probably when he first came to the valley."
Kent sat up in his chair. "Details, Moran, sooner rather than later."
I turned all the way around, folding my arms across my chest, and leaned back against the wetbar. "Okay, I play indoor soccer on Sundays on the west side of town. Ray played for about three years, up to two years ago. I mostly played against him and he was a pain in the butt. Rooker came to some early games, and he was playing to her. He wasn't bad, but wasn't great. Still, he usually got at least one goal a game off me."
Agent Jensen came walking over for a refill of tea. With the fluidity in her gait, I'd have loved to have gotten her out on the field playing on our team. Heck, just the way she'd look in shorts would have been inspiring. The fact that she carried a gun, that would count for a lot, too.
"You ever play on the same team?"
"Pick-up games, sometimes. I played for a team he was on for one season, when my team took the summer off. Everything had to be just so for him. His water bottle had to be in one place. He had to start, or his game would be off. He ironed his game shirts. He always was telling me how to do my job. It's a game, you know? We go to work on Monday. Winning is nice, but, gosh. We all pay the same fees to play - though if I knew he was a Gates Welfare child, I'd have talked him into sponsoring us."
The Federal agent smiled. "He never got Thothsoft to sponsor a team?"
I thought back. "Actually, there was one, just for a season, his last season."
"What happened?"
I took the teaball out of Bloodstone's cup. "My team played against Thothsoft. They beat us, Exner got a hat trick - scored three."
The FBI agent nodded. "I know what that is."
"Okay, so after the game Darius and I are sitting there having a soda, watching the game after ours. Exner comes over, gives me static about his scoring spurt. I give him crap back, telling him that anyone could beat a goalie at point blank range. He said, 'You couldn't.' Insert macho posturing here. Anyway, a new game comes up and the teams are short, so Exner goes into the goal for one team, Darius and I play on the other. Darius feeds me, I pump four in on Exner."
"And he quits playing in disgust?"
"Nope, after the fourth goal he's still giving me grief, slides on another shot and takes me down. Hard. I limp off. Darius gets the ball, delivers a wicked shot, snaps two of Exner's fingers. So much for typing code. I heard his boss dissolved the team. That would have been Rooker, I guess."
Bloodstone smiled. "Stopping someone from playing soccer - there's a motive for murder."
"Yeah, we call it 'justifiable homicide,' boss." I shrugged and brought him his tea. "Ray's got money, was looking at getting back together with the vic, so the two big motives are out. I don't think soccer is it, at least not after two years."
"Alas, you are probably correct." Bloodstone set his tea beside him, then adjusted his coat. "Perhaps, Detective Kent, our next guest will provide with more useful information."