„Maybe the killer didn't want to take the laptop because he knew it was more expensive and, what's more, a lot more trouble for you to replace,“ he said. „Bet you've got all your business records and stuff on the laptop, right?“
I nodded.
„So maybe the killer's someone you know, and didn't want to hurt you any more than he had to.“
„That's ridiculous,“ I said, but I didn't sound very convincing. „Besides, I just noticed something else.“
„What?“ Monty said, sounding impatient.
„The CD-ROM drive isn't completely closed,“ I said.
„Oh, for crying out loud,“ he muttered.
„And someone has definitely been messing with it,“ I said, wiping fingerprint dust off my fingers and using a corner of my sweatshirt to pull the CD drawer all the way open.
„How can you tell?“
„Look at this,“ I said.
„Looks like a normal CD to me,“ he said, giving it a cursory glance. Michael, looking over my shoulder, gave it a closer inspection, then looked up to me with one eyebrow raised.
„It's a perfectly normal CD-ROM, but it's upside down. See?“ I said, picking up the CD-ROM by the edges and holding it up. „The label side was down. I was playing this game a couple of nights ago, and that's the last time I touched the CD-ROM drive. I know I didn't put it in upside down; I don't even think it would play in that position.“
Deputy Monty didn't seem to find this very interesting, but he had Cousin Horace bag the laptop as evidence, too. I hoped they took me seriously and dusted the CD for prints or something; otherwise, all I'd accomplished was severely inconveniencing myself by the loss – temporary, I hoped – of my computer as well as my cash.
„Don't worry, we know how to take care of these things,“ Monty said, waving away my anxious questions about what fingerprint powder would do to my CD-ROM drive. „Why don't you folks go along home? We've got a lot of work to do here. And I'd like to finish as much as possible before the press show up.“
So about one A.M. Michael and I finally headed back toward the encampment, hoping to avoid the Town Watch, who would probably jump at the chance to book me for running around in jeans and a sweatshirt. If the Town Watch were still awake. More likely they'd gone home like everybody else when they figured out that Monty wasn't letting anyone gawk at the crime scene. Fat lot of good they'd been at guarding things.
„Well, at least we don't have to worry about how to keep Benson from stealing Rob's software,“ Michael said.
„True. All we have to worry about is how to keep Rob from getting arrested for murder,“ I said. „Or me, for that matter.“
„Surely they'll figure out from the dress that you couldn't have stabbed him,“ Michael said. „And Rob probably has an alibi, although I can't believe any sane person would think Rob capable of stabbing someone.“
„Oh, that's interesting,“ I said. „I'll be cleared by forensic evidence and Rob by the strength of his character, is that it? Very complimentary.“
„I wouldn't say strength of character, no,“ Michael said. „More the opposite, really. I think you'd have the gumption to stab someone if you had to – in self-defense, or to protect someone. But Rob? Not likely.“
„True, but will a homicide detective believe that? Or a jury?“
„I'm sure it won't come to that,“ Michael said. „Hey, at least your dad has an alibi. He was with me the whole time you were gone.“
„Well, that's a relief,“ I said. „And that means you have an alibi, too.“
„And I'm sure your brother will.“
„Which means I'll only have to worry about Faulk, and Tad, and Mrs. Fenniman, and I don't even know who else yet. I'm not sure I'm all that impressed with Deputy Monty's big-city homicide experience.“
We stopped talking when we got to the edge of the encampment. Here and there we saw campfires, and when we passed one, we'd nod to the half dozen reenactors gathered around it. But most of the camp had turned in. No wonder. Everyone would have a busy day tomorrow. The men, and the few women who had enlisted in units, would be marching and drilling, firing and cleaning their muskets, and in the late afternoon, participating in a skirmish as a dress rehearsal for Sunday's pitched battle.
Meanwhile, if yesterday was anything to go by, the women would air the bedding, cook three square meals, and clean up afterwards, using water that had to be hauled an authentically inconvenient distance. Not to mention minding any children or livestock who happened to have come along, arguing with the Anachronism Police, and hunting down anything the men misplaced – which, thanks to some innate male talent, they seemed to do as easily in a six-by-eight-foot tent as in a full-sized house. And quite a few of the women would be giving the tourists demonstrations of buttermaking, soapmaking, candlemaking, quilting, and authentic colonial laundry techniques.