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“What can I say? He was charismatic. He drew you in. But I realized he was a phony pretty quickly.”
“So why did you remain his student?”
“Because it’s academic suicide to change your dissertation advisor halfway through.”
“Are you familiar with lightning stones?”
“Yes.”
“How about prasiolite lightning stones?”
“Yes.”
“And what do you know about them?”
“I understand they are associated with the Gallina culture. That’s all I know.”
“Speaking of the Gallina culture, you used to go on field excavations with Oskarbi and his other students—including Vine and Driver, correct?”
“Correct.”
“What took place during those field seasons?”
“Digging. And they were usually extended weekends, not ‘seasons.’”
“How about sex?”
“Back to the morality police? Sure, there was tent crawling—but it was mostly Oskarbi, sniffing around like a dog.”
“You didn’t like Oskarbi?”
“Oh, does it show?”
Corrie was starting to feel frustrated. “How many field expeditions were you on?”
“Three.”
“When?”
“2011, 2012, and 2013.”
“And besides tent crawling and digging, did anything else happen on these expeditions?”
“There was eating, drinking, and sleeping. And swimming in the river. And s’mores around the campfire.”
“Anything unusual?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Did you find any prasiolite lightning stones?”
“No. I wish we had. There are only two known examples, belonging to a dodgy collector named Nash.”
“Whatdidyou find?”
“A lot of interesting material: lithics, ceramics, human remains. Unfortunately, Oskarbi never published and the stuff is still sitting in the basement of UNM somewhere. Except the human remains, which of course we left in situ, as required by NAGPRA.”
This was getting nowhere. Corrie looked at O’Hara. “Agent O’Hara, I believe you had some questions for this witness?”