was at best a half-truth. This was why, Officer Bauer explained to Melanie, the detective had arranged to speak with Magruder in the station’s “swing room”—typically the site of brief officer meetings and coffee breaks.There were two vending machines, soda and snacks, humming against one wall, and four chairs surrounding a circular table on which sat a small vase of plastic flowers. There was also a small webcam, its lens one-sixteenth of an inch in diameter and nearly invisible, taped to the top of the door frame, recording everything in the room. A cork board was attached to the wall, and pinned to it were news-paper comic strips of police officers. Magruder, wearing a suit with the tie loosened, sat beside a uniformed officer, chatting. At one point, the officer laid a hand on David’s arm and they both smiled about something. Either the setup was having the intended effect or Magruder faked being relaxed amazingly well, especially for a man who’d just worked a long day after drinking too much the night before.“This won’t work,”
