by David Archer
Jade smiled. “I have one,” she said. “Can you tell me what computer operating system you use?”
“Oh, just Windows on all of the office computers. We’ve got the latest release, with all the bells and whistles. Our servers run on Linux, of course. They’re down in the server room on the first floor. Are you familiar with Linux?”
“Yes, very,” Jade said. “Cybercrime used to be my specialty, and it almost always involved some sort of fraud on a server. I became proficient with just about every operating system and most programming codes. I was just curious what you are using. What about database? Are you using Oracle, or SQL?”
Annie’s eyes widened. “Um, for that you’d need to talk to John, or somebody down in coding. I’m afraid that’s a little out of my area of expertise.” She squeezed her eyes almost shut in a self deprecating gesture. “I’m pretty much just the advertising salesman around here. John runs everything else, he’s the genius. He built the original website all by himself, and figured out how to make money off it. I didn’t even really get involved until about a year later.”
“Oh, no problem,” Jade said. “I was just curious.”
“Oh, okay,” Annie said. She glanced at her watch. “We’ve got about twenty minutes before the meeting starts. How about if I give you a quick tour?”
*
Jenna looked up as Sam walked into his office and smiled. “Summer is looking for you,” she said. “I don’t know what it’s about, but she’s got a smile on her face.”
Sam grinned. “Tell her to come on, then,” he said. “I could use something to smile about.” He went into his office, but left the door open.
Summer arrived a moment later and closed it, then sat in the chair in front of his desk. “I thought you’d like to hear a report on my interrogation from last night,” she said. “Tom Linden?”
“Yes, and judging from the smile on your face, I suspect you must’ve enjoyed yourself. How did it go?”
“Well, I can tell you he’s not our shooter,” Summer said. “He couldn’t possibly be, since he was actually in Vancouver at the time, but he just doesn’t really have the kind of personality that could do something like that. I got him to talk about himself quite a bit, and he really opened up after a few minutes. I asked him what it was like to work for his sister and her boyfriend, and he absolutely idolizes both of them.”
“Wait a minute,” Sam said. “You told me that he always writes some nasty responses whenever he’s written up, even when it’s his sister doing it. What happened to all that anger you were talking about?”
“You know, it’s funny,” she said, “because I didn’t even have to find an excuse to ask that question. He was telling me how a lot of the other employees think he’s boss’s pet, so John and Annie told him they want him to act angry at them a lot. They say it cuts down on some of the complaints they hear about him, but the beauty of it is that he’s often the first one to hear when somebody else gets their panties in a bunch. If it sounds like something serious, he goes straight to his sister after work and tells her all about it. According to him, and I found evidence to back it up in the employee files, they’ve actually managed to stave off some potentially serious problems that way. The disgruntled employee finds his problem suddenly disappearing, with no idea why. Tends to make them think things weren’t really all that bad, after all.”
“Wow. And his drug problems?”
“Those are not even real, it’s all part of his cover inside the company. Apparently he really went to rehab once when he was in his late teens, but he’s been clean ever since. They use his history to keep him looking like the black sheep of the family, and he disappears for a month every now and then. Everybody thinks he’s in rehab, but he’s actually taking care of some special errands for Annie or John. That’s actually why he was in Vancouver; he was up there talking to a couple of small TV producers about some new project they’ve been working on. He flew home the next morning, after he actually saw the shooting on the show.”
“I see,” Sam said. “So he’s off the suspect list?”
“Definitely,” Summer said. “On the other hand, he gave me a few names to add to it. One of the guys in the marketing department, Bryce Nicholson, has suddenly come into some money. Tom was telling me that Bryce invited him to go out on his new boat this weekend. That might not be such a big deal, except it’s a hundred thousand dollar house boat, and Bryce claims he got a windfall that let him pay cash for it. I was going to ask if I might call Indie and ask her to take a look at his financials.”
Sam nodded. “Absolutely,” he said. “So, how did Tom take it when the evening came to an end?”
“Oh, that was no problem at all,” Summer said, grinning. “I just told him I had herpes and had to wait until it was dormant again before I could do anything, and he seems to have decided I’m not really his type, after all.”
Sam was still laughing when she got up and left the office.
A minute after Summer left Sam’s office, Jenna buzzed him to tell him that Steve Beck was waiting. Sam told her to send him in, and Steve entered a second later.
“Steve,” Sam said. He got to his feet and shook hands with his old friend. “How’s it going?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out,” Steve said. “I like working with Walter, but I’d like to get out of the office once in a while and act like an investigator again. Got anything you can put me on?”
“I do, actually,” Sam said. “It’s Max Petrelli, the boy who was shot. I understand he’s out of intensive care now, and I’d like you to go out and talk to him. I know the police have already spoken with him, and he doesn’t seem to have any idea what might have motivated this thing, but I’d like to see what you can get out of him. He probably doesn’t know anything about the shooting, but he might have some ideas who could be upset with the award company. I’d like you to see if you get any feelings from the things he might say.”
“Sure, Sam,” he said. He was grinning. “You mind if I take Walter along? He tends to be pretty good at reading people. Might pick up something I miss.”
“That’ll be fine,” Sam said. “Let me know if you find out anything, or just what you think about it all.”
“Will do,” Steve said. He made a mock salute as he turned and walked out.
A moment later, Denny Cortlandt tapped on the door and Sam waved for him to come inside. He shut the door behind himself and took the chair in front of the desk.
“Got something that might interest you, mate,” he said. “According to Interpol, there’s a hit man named Reynard who came to the States about three months back. What makes him worthy of notice is the fact that he’s been known to use remote control weapons on several occasions. I checked with some friends at NSA, and the last contact they had on him was in St. Louis ten weeks ago. Facial recog on a security camera got a hit on him, but he was gone before anybody could get there. It’s possible he was on his way this direction, but he’s off the radar at the moment. I’ve sent his photo to your email.”
Sam turned to his computer and downloaded the email, then opened the photo and looked at it. It showed three people, two men and a woman who were apparently walking through what looked like an airport. One of the men was singled out with a red circle around his face, and Sam knew this had to be Reynard.
“He’s got a hard look to him,” Sam said. “Almost feral.”
“True. Of course, Reynard is probably not his real name. In fact, it’s the name of a mythical fox, one who was almost human and was known as a trickster in European folktales. I suspect that’s why he uses the name.”
Sam leaned back in his chair. “Is he the type to take corporate-style jobs? The only way I can see this shooting involving somebody like him would be if there is some serious money behind it.”
“That’s for real,” Denny said. “His fee starts out at two hundred grand, and goes up from there if there’s any difficulty. If he’s our boy, then there’s some real money behind trying
to hurt Web Wide Awards. Problem with that is that just about any of their potential competition would have the kind of money we’re talking about. Give you any thoughts?”
Sam shook his head. “Not right off the bat,” he said. “I’m like you, I think pretty much any of their competition would have that kind of money. Why don’t you dig around a bit, see if you can come up with any potential suspect competitors?”
Denny levered himself out of the chair. “Righto, boss,” he said. “I’ll get to it, then.”
Darren Beecher showed up about ten minutes later. “Where’s Detective Parks?”
Sam grinned. “She hasn’t made it in yet,” he said. “What have you got?”
“Well, I looked at both Barr and LeClair pretty closely. It occurred to me that your wife could probably find more than I did, but so far they look pretty clean. No unusual financial transactions, and nothing that looked odd as far as personal communications. The only thing I found is that Charlie Barr might have a side business going on, taking in editing work for some of the kinds of people he used to work for. I think that sort of thing could potentially blow up in Morton’s and Porter’s faces, but I don’t know if it should be up to us to say anything or not.”
“I think I might,” Sam said. “If he had put that all behind him, I’d probably leave it alone, but if he’s still messing around with it, that could cause problems if it got out. I think what I need to do is go and have a talk with each of them, feel them out for myself. Why don’t you come along, give me your take on it as well?”
“No problem,” Darren said. “Just tell me when.”
“Give me five minutes, and we’ll head over there. I’ll meet you out front, okay?”
“No sweat,” Darren said. He left the room and Sam picked up the phone and called his wife.
“Hey, babe,” he said. “Just checking in. Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine here,” Indie said. “You doing all right?”
“Yeah. I’m getting ready to head out to Web Wide Awards and talk to a couple of people, and I just wanted to check in before I go. I don’t suppose Beauregard has had anything more to say, has he?”
“Not that I’ve heard,” Indie said. “I’m sure Mom would call you first, after what you said last night. I’ve been working with Summer this morning. Other than that, your kids are in the living room watching TV and I’m just trying to keep track of everything going on here.”
“Okay, baby,” Sam said. “I guess I really just wanted to hear your voice for a minute.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. I love you, Sam.”
“Love you, too,” Sam said. He hung up the phone and rose from his chair, told Jenna where he was going, and walked out the front door of the building. Darren was waiting for him, just looking at the beautiful Mustang. “Climb in,” Sam said. He slid behind the wheel as Darren got in, and then they took off toward Denver.
“When we get there,” Sam said, “remember that if we run into Jade, don’t let on that we know her. As far as Charlie Barr and Patricia LeClair, feel free to speak up if you think of a question that needs to be asked. I don’t necessarily think they’re involved, but I’d hate to miss something.”
“No problem,” Darren said. “I’ll sit back and observe unless it’s something important. Sometimes, I learn more just by watching expressions and body language than by asking questions.”
“That’s why I wanted you to come along,” Sam said with a grin.
It was almost ten by the time they arrived, and the receptionist told them they would have to wait. Charlie and Patricia were both in the usual morning meeting, but should be free within the next twenty minutes or so. Sam and Darren sat in the waiting area and browsed through some magazines.
In one of them, Sam found an article about Web Wide Awards, and read through it. It gave a bit of history of the company, talking about how it had grown from a nearly invisible little website to a multimillion dollar enterprise that was known throughout the world. It was the premise of letting the people decide who deserved the awards that brought on their success, according to the author. All other award programs had their own panels that made the decisions, and though many of them claimed to pay attention to what the public wanted, the winners they chose were not always the ones the public thought most deserving. John Morton and Annie Porter had changed the playing field by allowing the public to have control over who they gave their awards to.
However, there were those who felt the public simply didn’t understand the video industry well enough to make those decisions, and so some of the other awards were still around. They were not quite as recognizable as the Web Wide Awards, but they were still there and still had some impact on the video industry.
The article interviewed some of the officers from the other award companies, and Sam was particularly interested in the response from the president of the Web Video Institute, which claimed to analyze all web video to make its determination on quality of production. Gerald Sharp, the president, was quoted as saying, “The Web Wide Award is a joke. It doesn’t take into account any of the thousands of hours of effort that go into the proper production of a video, but pats a bunch of kids on the back for putting together their own childish little programs with the family’s camcorder. Sooner or later, the public that they claim as their supporters are going to figure out that those awards don’t mean anything, because nobody with a brain is behind the choice of who gets them. When that happens, Web Wide Awards will be gone, but the Institute will be right here to take up the slack.”
Sam passed the article to Darren, who quickly read through it. His eyebrows rose when he got to that quote, and he looked up at Sam. “Is it just me,” he asked, “or does it really make sense that people are going to put more stock in their own choices and opinions than in the choices and opinions of a self-styled expert?”
“I don’t think it’s just you,” Sam said. “I feel the same way. Apparently, so do an awful lot of the public, because it’s the Web Wide Awards they seem to be in favor of.”
The receptionist came and got them at that point, telling them that the morning meeting was over and both Charlie and Patricia were available to meet with them. Sam asked if there might be a room they could use so the conversation could be more private, and the receptionist led them to a small interview room off the lobby.
“If you wait just a moment,” she said, “I’ll bring Mr. Barr right away.”
The interview room had a couch and a couple of chairs. Sam and Darren sat down on the couch to wait, but Charlie Barr came in just a couple of minutes later. They stood and shook hands with him, showing him their IDs.
“Mr. Barr,” Sam said. “I’m Sam Prichard, and this is Darren Beecher. We are with Windlass Security, and we’d like to talk with you for a minute about the shooting that happened the other night.”
Charlie nodded and sat in one of the chairs, as Sam and Darren took the couch again. “Sure, no problem,” he said. “Real pity about that kid, but I hear he’s going to be okay.”
“Yes, that’s our understanding as well,” Sam said. “Mr. Barr, I was wondering if you can tell me what you know about how the shooting happened.”
Charlie’s eyes went wide. “How it happened? How would I know? Way I understand it, somebody was waiting up overhead with the gun, and shot the kid when he was coming out from behind the curtain. That’s all I know.”
“Yes, that’s what happened,” Sam said. “What I’m looking for is your opinion on how it happened. I mean, you’re the senior video producer, right? Were you in charge of putting together the whole production for that show?”
“Well, yeah,” Charlie said. “But all that means is that I put together the itinerary of the program, make sure the right people are on cameras and editing and all that stuff. I don’t actually physically do any of it, not myself.”
“Oh,” Sam said. “I thought you were the one who actually decided what camera angles to use, that sort of thing. Isn’t that part of your j
ob?”
“Well, yeah, sort of. We do a storyboard, kind of like a comic strip of how we want the show to look. From that, we decide which camera angles we want to use and things like that.”
“But you aren’t actually the guy in charge while it’s being filmed?”
Charlie was squirming just a bit in his seat. “Well, yeah, I was there. I mean, I was in the booth watching the monitors, just to make sure everything went smoothly.”
Sam nodded. “Okay, that’s what I thought,” he said. “Now, how long ago was this storyboard done?”
“The storyboard? Oh, that was probably two, three months ago. We had to get it all worked out way in advance, so that we’d be able to get all the right sound and video equipment in place. I mean, we had six different bands performing that night, and a few other people, as well. If you don’t have it all planned out long before time to shoot, you don’t even want to think about what all can go wrong.”
“Okay,” Sam said. “I got that. Now, who would’ve had access to the storyboard? Or maybe I should ask, who would have known what camera was going to be used for each shot?”
Charlie seemed confused. “Well, probably the whole vid crew. That would be everybody who was in the booth, and the Steadicam operators on the stage. All of us had to know what camera was being operated when, and we had a cue sheet set up for that.”
“Does a cue sheet actually say which camera? I mean, like if one of the big overhead cameras is going to be used, would that be on the cue sheet?”
“Yeah, of course. You got to have that so you know when to have each camera in position and ready.”