Again, M. J. looked at Adam.
He had paled slightly, but he hadn't moved. Neither did his gaze waver from the corpse. For a solid ten seconds he stared at Jane Doe, as though trying to reconstruct her frozen features into something alive, something familiar.
At last he let out a deep breath. Only then did M. J. realize the man had been holding it. He looked across at her. In an utterly calm voice, he said, "I've never seen this woman before in my life."
Then he turned and walked out of the room.
2
M. J. shut the drawer and followed Adam into the hall. "Wait. Mr. Quantrell."
"I can't help you. I don't know who she is."
"But you thought you knew. Didn't you?"
"I don't know what I thought." He was striding toward the elevator, his long legs carrying him at a brisk pace.
"Why did she have your phone number?"
"I don't know."
"Is it a business number? One the public might know?"
"No, it's my home phone."
"Then how did she get it?"
"I told you, I don't know." He reached the elevator and stabbed the Up button. "She's a total stranger."
"But you were afraid you knew her. That's why you came down here."
"I was doing my civic duty." He shot her a look that said, No more questions.
M.J. asked anyway. "Who did you think she was, Mr. Quantrell?"
He didn't answer. He just regarded her with that impenetrable gaze.
"I want you to sign anstatement," she said. "And I need to know how to reach you. In case the police have more questions."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. "My home address," he said, handing it to her.
She glanced at it. 11 Fair Wind Lane, Surry Heights. Beamis had been correct about that phone prefix.