She’d reported in on the events with Clyde Woo, played the recording for them, and now was on her way to his house to search it again and pick up his computer. Ang followed her out of the conference room. “You doing okay?” The other agent’s brows had pulled together. “I wouldn’t like sitting with a dying man. This case is really depressing me. Looking at all those suicide photos, looking for ID’s on them—it’s tough.” “You know, it wasn’t that bad,” Lei smiled at Ang, stopping outside her office. Ken had gone back to the workroom to look through their evidence again. “It was good to do the right thing by him, and it was peaceful. When he went. I don’t think he was suffering. He’d already done a lot of that.” “That’s good to hear, at least. Don’t tell Waxman, but I’m using DAVID to match the suicide victims in the gallery to known cases.” “Good. It’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.”
