“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important,” Perkins said. “I have no desire to waste your time, or mine.” He went to the dresser drawers and opened several. I caught a glimpse of neatly folded sweaters and shirts. He checked one label, then shut the drawer. He checked the bedside table, flipped through the Gideon Bible, shut the drawer, and went into the bathroom.
There was still a lot of blood in the bathroom. It was completely dried now, and much darker, and cracking in odd patterns. With the body removed, it seemed abstract and merely strange to me. At least, I didn’t feel sick again.
“He was found in the bathtub,” Perkins said. “Is that right?”
Lazily, Corey pushed himself out of the chair and sauntered into the bathroom. “Yep,” he said. “Lying with his head about here...” He pointed to the back of the tub. “With his feet forward, one in the tub, one hanging over the edge. He was dressed in all his clothes except he had his shoes off and one sock off. The way we reconstruct it, he came in and slipped here...” He pointed to the floor, where the bath mat was crumpled off in one corner.
“He slipped...” Perkins said, “or was pushed, perhaps.”
Corey gave that idea a quick shrug and continued: “Either way, he fell and hit his head on this...” He pointed to a towel rack with a sharp edge, and lots of blood. “And then landed in the bathtub and died.”
“You have pictures of the body in place, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Where is the other sock?”
“We found it by the door.”
“I want to see,” Perkins said, and walked to the door.
“We took it down to the lab,” Corey said.
“I thought nothing was moved,” Perkins said.
“Well, we wanted it for analysis.”
“Analysis of what?”
“Whatever,” Corey said. He was starting to have a hounded look on his face.
“Make sure you check it for soap,” Perkins said. “Camay soap, to be precise.”
Corey blinked.
“I think I’ve seen all I need for the moment,” Perkins said. He opened the door, looked out into the hallway, then back into the room. “One last question: How did the script supervisor get into the room this morning?”
“The door was unlocked.”
“Was that usual for McDougall?”
“No, apparently not.”
Perkins looked at the door carefully. “This door can’t be left unlocked,” he said.
“Well, then it was ajar. I don’t know.”
“What did Miss Pink do when she found the body?”
“She called Mr. Mann, the producer.”
“And?”
“He came and looked, and then he had her call us.”
“I see,” Perkins said. “Thank you very much, Mr. Corey.”
He started walking down the hallway. I hurried after him. “By the way, Jason,” he said as I fell into step beside him. “Do you happen to know if McDougall was right- or left-handed?”
