The corridor from the cafeteria to Joan's office ran two hundred meters with three turns, and Soren made all of them at the same speed.
He did not run.
Running attracted attention and attention was not a problem he wanted to add to the morning.
THE INVESTIGATOR WILL NOT REPORT THIS scrolled at the corner of his vision in pale ink.
The script said Joan would not report it. The script did not say why.
He had a guess but a guess was not data.
He turned the last corner and found her door already open.
◆◆◆◆
Joan's office was a small room with one window, one filing cabinet that had been mostly emptied last week, and a desk that currently held four open Bureau folders and a thermos.
She was standing over the desk in shirt sleeves. One hand on her hip, the other holding a pen she had not used.
She looked up when he came in.
"Sit down. I have most of it."
Soren sat in the chair across from her desk.
The thermos was still steaming. She had been there a while.
