Jo was tired, and it didn't help that she had lost all track of time, but this was the third time the interrogator had repeated this line of questioning. The phrasing was slightly different, but it was the same question. "Why do you want to know about Henry's stalker? He was shot ages ago and that case closed."
"Doesn't it strike you as odd that the case was closed so quickly?" he pressed, evading her question again.
Jo had to think about it. "None of it made any sense." she admitted, then ran her fingers through her hair again, trying to push back a headache. Her hair tie fell out and Jo sighed in frustration as a strand brushed her cheek bringing with it the memory of Henry's sobs the night before. Henry's immortal, her brain threatened to gibber at her again. "It doesn't make any sense," she almost snarled, temporarily forgetting the question.
"What doesn't make sense?" The interrogator had been very careful not to move or draw any attention to himself, yet his very care snapped Jo out of her funk and her eyes glared into his.
"Everything," she stated flatly. "Henry's behavior during the pugio case. It was almost as if he was afraid of something - or someone." She paused, finally seeing the connection between the two lines of questions. "You think that the stalker wasn't the guy Henry shot. You think he's back..." her voice faded. "Could he be the murderer?" Jo's eyes narrowed remembering Henry's reaction to Lucas' revelation that the cases were connected. For someone who had always taken such pride in his assistant's discoveries, Henry was uncharacteristically disappointed. Going so far as to disparage Lucas' findings: 'What have you noticed that I was unable to see?' But once Lucas pointed out the similar bruising patterns it was so obvious even Jo could see it. Henry had to have noticed the pattern before. Something about Zander's body had him spooked.
Jo turned back to the interrogator, "If I knew anything I would tell you." and she very pointedly didn't think about Henry's confession.
"All right," the investigator said after a moment, obviously not fooled. "You can go." He closed up his files and stood watching Jo collect her hair tie from the floor. "For now." He amended. "And don't discuss any of this with Dr. Morgan."
Jo paused. "Of course not."
"Not even the pugio case."
"That goes without saying," she snapped and stormed out of interrogation.
Mike was just stepping off the elevator as she snatched her purse from her desk. "Come on Hanson," she growled. "You're driving."
"Where too?" asked Mike as he held the elevator doors open for her.
"To see Mr. Griffin." She was determined to get answers, and equally determined to avoid Henry.
Aubrey Griffin had been arrested for his role in the pugio theft. Being wheelchair bound, not to mention extremely frail, he had been taken to the medical wing of the jail. Jo had found out in the course of her paper shuffling that morning that his lawyer had already got him sprung.
"You think he knows what's going on with Henry?" Mike fished.
Jo looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. Her hair blocked her vision. "Actually take me to my place first," she evaded. "I need to freshen up."
Mr. Griffin's man escorted them into the study. "I see you're back," Griffin stated simply. If his experiences of the past two days had discomforted him at all there was no sign of it.
"Why did you give my partner the pugio?" Jo took a seat while keeping her eye's firmly fixed on the old historian.
Griffin smiled, "He didn't tell you, I wonder why?" He positioned his chair directly in front of her, then leaned forward studying her closely. "I will gladly tell you detective if you do me an equal favor."
"What favor?" No matter how badly Jo wanted to know, she had learned to be extremely cautious when it came to favors.
"Nothing illegal, I assure you. I'm looking for someone." At Jo's cautious nod, he turned his chair and fetched an old notebook. "I showed this to your friend after he asked me why I had taken the dagger." Mike stood behind Jo and looked over her shoulder as she took the book from Griffin. "This is one of Mengele's notebooks, detailing the tortures of one inmate in particular. One who, no matter what they did to him ... no matter how many times they killed him, would always come back after being re-born in a nearby river." Shocked, Jo dropped the book. It landed face down and she quickly bent over to pick it up, but not before Griffin saw her face.
"Come on sir. You can't expect us to believe something like that?" Mike snapped.
Griffin said nothing, simply watched Jo as she turned the book over and carefully inspected the sketches. They were mainly diagrams with notes in German. They could have been of anyone, until someone with a fair amount of artistic skill had sketched the prisoner. Jo breathed a sigh of relief once she realized it wasn't Henry and Griffin's eyes narrowed. "So you do know," he stated simply. Jo's face froze. She doubted very much that Henry would reveal his secret to this man. She didn't want to reveal any more.
"This is the man you want us to find," she said instead. Griffin just nodded. "What is his relationship to the pugio?" This, then, must be Adam. Henry's stalker.
"It was what made him immortal, and he has killed to get it back."
The sound of gunshots echoing down an empty subway tunnel haunted Jo, and Henry's voice: 'I never told Abigail. I died in her arms. When Adam shot me today, I thought for sure you would be finding out the same way. That was his intention. I couldn't endure that.'
Jo shrugged off the memory and brought her attention back to the present with some effort. "Why would he want something so desperately?" Then her eyes narrowed as she remembered a different scene; Henry standing behind the door to this very room, preparing to stab her with Adam's dagger. "Henry thought this man was coming here for this dagger. Did he believe your story?" Of course he did, but Jo needed to be sure. Griffin didn't answer that question either, just watched Jo. "Why try to kill an immortal?" She mused almost to herself, "If all you wanted was to prove a theory, wouldn't shooting him prove the point just as well? And with considerably less personal risk?" Though Henry probably didn't think about risk in the same way others did.
Griffin's eyes simply twinkled, "It wasn't my suggestion. Interesting though, isn't it?" A sly grin gave him a slightly roguish look.
I'll say," Jo whispered, eyes losing focus. A moment later she snapped back into the present with a haunted look. "We'll look for your guy. Mind if we have a copy of this?" she tapped the sketch.
"Be my guest." Griffin called for his assistant and had him copy the page, minus the German commentary, and handed the censored copy over with a flourish and a smile. "Good luck detectives." He didn't say anything more, nor did Jo want to hear it. Suddenly she couldn't get out of the place fast enough.
"Let's go see Abe," she told Mike once they reached the car. "Maybe he can explain a few things."
"You don't actually believe that nut job, do you? You don't actually believe Henry did either, right? I mean, that's a bona fide loony bin kind of story. He's just trying to make us believe he's crazy so his lawyer can cop a plea." Jo was studiously silent. "Jo. Jo talk to me. What's going on between you two?" Jo put her hand over her mouth and continued staring out the windshield. "Jo. Please, at least tell me you'll be alright."
"I'm alright." She said at last, sounding anything but. "Just drop me off at Abe's. I'll make my own way back to the station." Jo turned away from Mike and refused to say another word.