You Have the Right to Remain Silent by Barbara Paul Page B

sorry. They all died quickly, no pain.”
    Quinn felt behind him for the stairway banister and shakily lowered himself to one of the steps. He sat there stunned-looking. “How? How did they die?”
    â€œThey were all four shot. Death was instantaneous.” She didn’t know that was true, but why make it worse for him?
    Quinn buried his face in his hands. Foley cleared his throat and said, “Uh, can we get you something? Call somebody?”
    The other man gestured no and after a few moments pulled himself together. He stood up slowly and said, “How am I ever going to tell my wife? She loved Conrad as much as I did.”
    â€œYou were close to Mr. Webb?” Marian asked.
    â€œHe was like a second father. Sergeant Larch, Detective Foley—let’s go in here and sit down. I have questions, and I’m sure you must too.”
    Tons of them . Marian noticed he’d gotten both their names right after only one hearing, something most people failed to do when faced with the unexpected appearance of the police. Once the three of them were seated, Quinn wanted to know details. Marian explained what they’d found in East River Park.
    He took it hard. “That’s insane! Shot through the eye and then handcuffed? Or were they handcuffed first?”
    â€œWe don’t know yet,” Foley told him.
    â€œBut why? Why would anyone want them dead?”
    â€œThat’s what we’re trying to find out, Mr. Quinn.”
    After a while Quinn couldn’t think of any more questions and fell silent. Marian asked him how long he’d known Conrad Webb. “All my life,” he answered.
    Universal Laser Technologies had been founded by the present owner’s father. One of the first things the elder Quinn, a physicist, had done was bring in a man he could trust who had a head for business. That was Conrad Webb, who’d stuck with Universal during early hard times and ended up owning a piece of the firm. He’d been CEO for nearly twenty years, before advancing age had prompted him to opt for a less strenuous position in the company. Webb was as much identified with Universal Laser as Quinn’s father had been, the younger Quinn told them.
    But Webb had eased out of the actual management of the company several years ago. His real value, Quinn said, was in the contacts he’d built up during his life, both in industry and in government. “We called him The Network King,” Quinn said with a wry smile.
    â€œHad he been in Washington recently?” Marian asked.
    â€œThey all four had—they were our liaison with the Defense Department. They got back last Wednesday.”
    â€œYou mean like a committee?” Foley asked. “Those four represented you regularly?”
    â€œYes, that was their job with the company. Conrad was in charge. Sherman Bigelow was along as legal counsel, and Herb Vickers was the technical adviser.”
    â€œWhat about Jason O’Neill?”
    â€œJason was a sort of trainee.” Quinn sighed. “Conrad was getting on in years—he couldn’t last forever. When he retired, Sherman Bigelow would have taken over as head of liaison. But we needed someone to replace Conrad’s charm , I guess you could call it. Jason O’Neill was one of those loose, relaxed people that everybody likes. I’ve seen him walk into a room full of government dignitaries he’d never met and make himself right at home. He’d go up to someone, anyone, and introduce himself—and five minutes later they’d be laughing and talking like old buddies who hadn’t seen each other in years. Conrad could do that too, in a more subtle way. But Jason had the gift of making people like him. We hired him for his personality.”
    Marian consulted her notebook. “Herb Vickers’s specialty was inertial confinement fusion, right? What project was he working on? Why were they in Washington?”
    â€œSorry,