“You sound as if you know Mr. Garsten,” one of the Redmond officers commented.
“Phil Garsten? Of course I do. He works for the boss here, Martin Payne. We’re old friends.” Finnion nodded toward Corfe and lowered his tone, suggesting confidentiality. “Look, I think you should know, this guy has had a grudge against the company ever since he was fired. He’s always giving us a hard time. I don’t think he’s exactly . . . ‘stable,’ know what I mean?”
Corfe’s eyes widened. “I was never—” he started to protest, but Des gave him a withering look.
“So this Michelle Lang isn’t here?” Des said to Finnion.
Finnion’s voice rose again. “No, for chrissakes! Why should she be? Who is she, anyway? I never heard of her.”
“Then, ah, perhaps you can explain the van?” the Redmond officer who had spoken before invited.
Vanessa stepped forward. “That’s easy, officer. It’s mine. I drove it here.”
Corfe shook his head wildly. “That’s not true. I’ve had it since—” Des quieted him with a wave.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you telling me that—”
“But I borrowed it from—”
“Mr. Corfe, are you the registered owner of that van?”
“Well, no, not exactly. That is, not legally, but . . .”
Des turned to Vanessa. “You are who, ma’am?”
“Vanessa Heber. The van belongs to my husband and me. Mr. Corfe is employed by my husband’s company, and yes, it’s true that he does use it sometimes. Eric—my husband—gave him a job out of . . . loyalty, I suppose you could say.” She hesitated, as if uncomfortable at what needed to be said. “As Mr. Finnion says, he sometimes tends to . . . ‘do things’ like this.”
Corfe looked wildly from one policeman to the other. “She’s lying. They’re both lying. . . . I—”
“Shuddup! . . . Thank you. . . . Mrs. Heber, so the van is yours, registered in your name?”
“Yes. . . . Well, Eric’s to be precise.”
“And you are not reporting it as stolen?”
“Of course not.”
“So you don’t know anything about this Michelle Lang being taken from it?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Do you know who this Michelle Lang is, Mrs. Heber?”
“Yes, I’ve met her once or twice. She’s a lawyer who works for a corporation that we’re considering entering into a joint venture with.”
“Do you know of any reason why she should be missing?”
Vanessa bit her lip for a second. “I can only suggest that it’s probably a personal matter of Mr. Corfe’s,” she replied.
“You bitch!” Corfe breathed, unable to contain himself.
Des’s mouth clamped tight. “Thanks,” he said to Finnion and Vanessa. “I don’t think we need detain you people any longer. Take care, Andy. Mrs. Heber. Enjoy what’s left of the weekend, eh?” He cut Corfe off with a curt sweep of his arm before Corfe could say anything more, and motioned him out of the building. The two Redmond officers nodded at Finnion and Vanessa, and moved to follow. Corfe knew an expression that had reached boiling point when he saw one, and didn’t argue.
“Mr. Corfe, you do realize that willfully diverting the police from their duties is an offense,” Des began as soon as they were outside. “Now, we do have your complaint on file. If you have anything to add to it, let us know. In the meantime, we’ve done all we can. If you wish, we’ll take you back to the station and put you down at the door there.”
Corfe acknowledged defeat with a tired nod and thrust his hands into his pockets. Trying to continue this would be more likely to get him arrested than achieve anything useful. As they walked back to the two police cruisers, Corfe toyed with the keys in his pocket. Two sets of keys: his own keys; a set of spares from Eric, for the van. The van was still there, around the back of the building. He still didn’t know what to do about Michelle, but whatever he decided, he needed to remain mobile. In any case, dammit, he’d borrowed the van legitimately. He wasn’t about to walk back to Tacoma, or catch a bus. Let Vanessa try explaining it to Eric on Monday. Eric would know a lot more by that time than he did right now. Corfe would make sure of that.