Warwick thinks to himself, applying himself to an academic solution to distract from the moral implications of the murder he just committed. There have been occasions where he's had to smuggle things here - alcohol, women and even drugs on occasion. He's always been smuggling things in, rather than out, though... "McKay, the security guy down in the car park, sometimes switches off the cameras to let...working girls...come up here after hours." I say. "I could pay him to go take a smoke break like normal, and we could bring her to my car. Alternatively..." I think. "I know Doctor Lang a few doors down also has a thing for his students. Lana takes a few of his classes. We...We could make it look like it was him she came to see tonight, not me. He'd take the blame."
Warwick thinks to himself quietly. "Well, I keep towels in my car to keep from staining the leather when...you know. We cover the trunk in them and lie her there, so there's no physical evidence in the car." He says, trying to cover his bases, but still a little panicked. "There's a building on the edge of campus. One of the maintenance buildings." He says. "It has a furnace. The Egyptology Department sometimes uses it to incinerate fake artifacts - we get a lot of them, people trying to make a buck by pawning off some crappy pharaoh bust. That kind of thing." He scratches the bald patch in the middle of his scalp. "We could... Well... We could make use of it."