"Why do you say that?"
"Fletcher Brunell? He was a pain in the ass. Hated the hot and stickies of Norfolk weather and was always after me to transfer him back to Scranton-fat chance of that-or to some bread-basket state out west. Then he went over my head-put in a request to senior management. You don't pull that shit with me."
"Did he get his transfer?"
"Hell, no! I saw to that. He knew his days were numbered and gave his notice-said he had a job out west. I'm surprised the office even bothered with a send off party. I'm still waiting for his last expense account. He never turned it in."
"He was a problem?"
"Naw, not really. He replaced me in Scranton when I got this promotion here to the head office. He screwed up. Lousy production. Scranton was my baby-I wanted to see it hum but Brunell wasn't the hummer for the job. I transferred him to Norfolk but he didn't fit in there either and now he's gone. Big send off and all."
He added, "I guess that's why Jeff had too much booze."
"Was Jeff much of a drinker?"
"No. Maybe one or two. I never heard he got loaded. Someone would have mentioned it. I keep pretty good tabs on my boys."
"What you're saying goes along with the wife's statement- she said he was a careful drinker."
"Who really knows? Maybe this was the one time he let it all hang out-or maybe you don't have to be drunk to be stupid."
Dean looked at his notes. "He was to return after some early morning business, the next day, Tuesday-same day, I guess-he died after midnight, Tuesday."
"The office said he wrapped it up Monday-was supposed to take off first thing Tuesday morning. The trip was really just for Brunell's send off."
"How often was Byrne out of the office?"
"Oh, two, maybe three times a month. Want to see his expense account?" Before Dean could answer, Mayer hollered over his partition. "Hey, Chernak. Get Jeff's expense reports, will you?" The most curious looker, who sat at the first desk, scurried to an empty desk three stations away and began rummaging through the drawers.
"Is that Byrne's desk?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, you want to look at it?"
"Sure," Dean answered and the two men rose, leaving the cubicle for the open office area.
Chernak handed a thick folder to Dean, smiling at Mayer as if he were waiting to be introduced. "Thanks, Joe," Mayer said, excusing Chernak, who looked disappointed as he reluctantly left. Mayer's telephone rang and he excused himself to answer it, leaving Dean at Jeffrey Byrne's grey steel desk.