His father frowned. “I hardly think Miss Knight—”
“She is his next of kin,” Leslie said.
For just a moment, Luke thought he saw amusement—or was it satisfaction?—in the son's eyes, before he replaced it with one more suitably sober. He and Mann exchanged another quick look. “Do we ask what the project is?”
“It’s a highly classified project that Knight was working on. Miss Knight is his assistant.” Merryweather seemed like he wanted to say more, but didn’t.
“You’ll have to tell them, Dad. We need to be truthful or the police won’t be able to do their job,” Leslie said, earnestly cooperative. Merryweather didn’t say anything. He might have been thinking. It was hard to tell.
Leslie sighed. “Dad.” He looked at the two men. “Miss Knight was more than an assistant. She was Knight’s, well,
