?Chapter 16
A little researchrevealed that the head of the Princeton Chemical and Biological Engineering Department was a man named Dr.Troy McGill.
Darnell was surprisingly upbeat as they navigated the interior of Sherrerd Hall, an impressive, square, all mirror glass building on the northern edge of the Princeton campus.
The detective even went as far as to crack a few jokes. Vaughn knew that his partner used humor as a defense mechanism, but it was still unnerving, Darnell joking while all he could do was picture Aaron Treadman’s naked corpse.
Vaughn found the office he was looking for at the end of the hall: a corner office, befitting of a department head.
Or so he figured.
Instead of Princeton—not that this was really an option considering A, Vaughn’s grades, and B, his financial status—Vaughn had attended Mercer County Community College. They didn’t have department heads at MCCC.
He knocked.
“Enter.”
They opened the door.
Dr.Troy McGill had thick glasses and long hair. He sat behind a desk—a desk littered with papers and energy drinks—and his slender forearms rested on the dark wood.
If Vaughn had to guess, he thought the man had probably been dozing when they’d knocked.
“Dr.McGill?”
“Yes?”
“PPD Detectives Ryan and Sacker.”
Dr.McGill perked up.
Yeah, he’d been sleeping, all right.
“What can I do for you, detectives?”
“Just have a couple questions. Do you guys have hydrogen sulfide gas in the department?”
“Yes. Why?”
Vaughn ignored the question.
“You keep the tanks here in the building?”
Dr.McGill shook his head. His gray hair flopped in front of his face, and he pushed it back with the palm of one hand.
“No—outside. Locked up. What’s this about?”
“Think you can show them to us?”
“Detectives—”
Darnell stepped up. He might be a drunk who made inappropriate jokes, but he was also an imposing figure.
“Dr.McGill, you’re not in any trouble.”Yet.“All we’re asking is to see where you keep the hydrogen sulfide.”For now. “If that’s not something that you’re capable of or willing to do, we can go above your head.”We will.
Dr.McGill stood.
He was skinny. Almost emaciated. When he swallowed, like he did now, Vaughn could practically see the saliva making a track down the inside of the man’s throat.
