Chapter 63

“Who’s the boy?” I asked instead. He was sprawled between Anacapri and the Plexiglas. A few inches away from his outflung hand was a .22 caliber pistol.

“Carlyle. He wanted to be head computer geek.”

“I imagine Babineaux would have something to say about that.” I crouched down, took a pen from my pocket and inserted it into the barrel, and brought it to my nose. It had been fired.

“Yeah, he would.”

“Why was Carlyle here?” I placed the gun back on the floor and turned him over. The bullet hole between his eyes was like a third eye, but there was no exit wound. The small caliber bullet hadn’t had enough velocity to punch through the back of his skull. The bullet had most likely rattled around in it, literally scrambling his brains.

Homme shrugged. “He wasn’t one of the group who were to infiltrate the Division.”

“I think it might be a good idea to remove his body and Anacapri’s.”

“And Tactics’s.” He nodded toward the partition.