"What's so funny, Clancy?" asked Mayer.
"Just the thought of Jeff having a chick on the side struck me funny, that's all," he answered. "Sorry, Mr. Mayer."
"Yeah." Mayer turned to Dean as he and the detective moved back to Mayer's office. "That is pretty funny. You'd just have to know Jeff Byrne to appreciate it. A 100 percent home body."
Further questioning revealed that Byrne had signed out a pool company car for the seven-hour trip to Virginia. The vehicle was in police custody in Norfolk but the authorities there said it would be released to the World Wide local office shortly.
The life insurance World Wide provided its employees was equal to one year's pay, hardly enough to leave a rich widow. Mayer did not think Byrne had carried any additional coverage because, according to Mayer, Byrne hardly had enough money to blow his nose. "But who needs life insurance?" It was a line of business World Wide didn't sell. Besides, Jeff Byrne's health was good. He was in better shape than half the office, by Mayer's assessment.
"Jeff used to jog and all but he got a bum knee. Nothing serious, but it bothered him if he ran. He swims, or at least he did. But not very good, I guess."
Dean continued to question Mayer but learned nothing more of substance. A picture of Byrne continued to emerge: Mr. Ordinary, homebody, well liked, in a blah job like a million other guys, on a train to nowhere but happy enough to keep chugging along with the ride. It was beginning to look more as if Jeffrey Byrne pulled a stupid stunt after a few too many drinks in a lonely motel, leaving a widow and a teenaged son to fend for themselves.
Dean began packing up to leave but Mayer drew him aside.
"Look, could I ask you something? This is really bugging me. Byrne's on the payroll, right? Say they don't even find his body? Like never. I don't want to terminate him but he's not dead, official-like, so they can't just pay off his life insurance. But we can't just pretend he's gonna come strolling back in the door either. He's not disabled, so we can't pay disability. I don't mean to be harsh, but we'll have to replace him pretty damn soon and we've only got so much budget. It's a real bitch. Imagine me giving Cindy Byrne a call and telling her she's cut off, at least until ol' Jeff floats in? How would that look? I'll tell you-it'd make me look like a real bastard, that's how it'd look." Dean simply shrugged his shoulders.