by Philip Cox
A small woman at the front of the group spoke up. ‘That will be Ms Kennedy. In the office at the far end.’
Leroy looked over and saw a figure sitting at a desk in a glass-walled office. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Thank you all for your time and co-operation.’ He and Domingo stood aside to let the group get into the elevator.
‘Lance isn’t in any trouble?’ asked the small woman as she eased herself in. Fortunately the doors shut before Leroy and Domingo could answer.
They walked up to the office and tapped on the glass door which was hanging ajar. Emma Kennedy was stencilled in black on the frosted glass door. She looked up.
‘Ms Kennedy?’ Leroy asked.
She sat up straight. ‘Yes? Can I help you?’
Leroy and Domingo stepped into the room and held out their badges. ‘LAPD, ma’am,’ said Leroy. ‘I wonder if we might ask you some questions.’
‘Questions?’ Ms Kennedy said, with a puzzled look on her face. ‘Of course. Please sit down.’ She indicated to the two black chairs facing her desk. The officers sat down and Leroy looked at Ms Kennedy. Even though she was sitting behind a large desk, he could see she was a tall woman. Almost six feet, he guessed, just an inch or so shorter than him. Probably mid-thirties; dark, shoulder-length hair, neatly brushed. A little make up, but nothing excessive. Not what Leroy would call a beautiful woman; more handsome. Something he personally found attractive. An intelligent woman. He noticed the only jewellery on her hands were two dress rings.
Taking all this in caused Leroy to delay asking his first question. Domingo shot him a glance, then asked the first question. ‘We’re here about Lance Riley. Does he work here?’
‘Lance? Yes; he does. Why; what has he done?’
‘Why do you ask that?’ said Domingo. ‘We spoke to some of your staff as they were getting into the elevator, and one of them asked the same question.’
Ms Kennedy shrugged. ‘An obvious question, I would have thought. Why else would the police be asking about him?’
Now Leroy spoke. ‘Lance was found dead Friday night.’
Ms Kennedy clearly went pale. She stared at him open-mouthed.
‘Lance…? Dead? But, how…? What happened?’
‘His body was found in the parking garage beneath this building,’ said Leroy. ‘Late Friday night. There was some kind of office party going on then, and…’
Ms Kennedy frowned. ‘Party? No, we had no party then. Wait a minute: one of the other tenants in the building - we share these premises with half a dozen other companies – had something going on Friday. It must have been after that.’
‘Must have been,’ said Domingo.
‘You said he was found in the parking garage,’ said Ms Kennedy. ‘Was it an accident? Was he run over or something?’
‘The cause of death is still being investigated,’ replied Leroy, ‘but in the meantime, can you confirm if he was at work Friday. His wife - partner, rather - said he likes to use Fridays to catch up with paperwork.’
She put her hand over her mouth.
‘Oh my God! Poor Michelle! Whatever can she be going through? Have you met her? She’s six months or so pregnant.’
‘Seven months,’ said Domingo. ‘Yes, we just came from there. Her mother’s on her way over to the house.’
‘You said it’s still being investigated. Does that mean he might have been – murdered?’
‘Like I said, Ms Kennedy, it’s still under investigation. So – was he in the office last Friday?’
She sat back and thought. ‘Yes. Yes, he-’
‘Night, Emma. See you in the morning,’ a voice called out. Leroy and Domingo looked round and saw a man standing in the doorway. He was fairly short, dark skin, black hair heavily gelled back. He was wearing a light grey striped suit, blue shirt and a garish yellow tie. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, ‘I didn’t realise you were with somebody.’
‘That’s okay, Rolando. These are…’ She looked at Leroy as if to say is it okay; he nodded. ‘These are police officers. Something’s happened to Lance.’
‘Lance Riley? Jeez! What’s happened to him?’
Leroy turned round in his chair to face Rolando. ‘He was found dead Friday night.’
‘Jesus H! What happened?’
‘I’ll fill you in tomorrow,’ Ms Kennedy said. ‘If that’s okay with you, officers?’
‘We’re just checking Lance’s movements on Friday,’ said Leroy, facing Rolando, but addressing both of them. ‘He was in here Friday, yes?’
‘Correct,’ said Ms Kennedy.
‘But not today,’ added Rolando. Then he slapped his forehead. ‘Estúpido!’
‘How did he seem on Friday?’ asked Leroy.
‘No different from any other day,’ said Ms Kennedy. ‘Do you agree, Rolando?’
‘I agree. Same as any other day.’
‘And did he arrive and leave at his normal time? His partner - Michelle – said he sometimes left early on Fridays.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ said Ms Kennedy. ‘He always seemed to be around at the end of the day.’
‘Do you keep an attendance log?’ asked Domingo. ‘Or do your staff have to clock in or out?’
‘Do you need me any more?’ asked Rolando, still standing in the doorway.
Leroy swung round again. ‘No, thanks. If we need to talk to you again, I know where to find you.’
‘I’ll say goodnight, then.’
‘Good night, Rolando,’ Ms Kennedy said, as she watched him walk down to the elevator. ‘That’s Rolando Zinga, one of my analysts. Same as Lance.’
She stared into space for a few seconds, then said, ‘We rely on trust here. A lot of the time our staff have to go visit clients, so to log them in or out would be cumbersome. However, I can check to see when he logged on and off our systems here, if you like.’
‘Please do,’ said Domingo.
‘Surely,’ she smiled. She turned to her keyboard and typed something. Keyed in a password, and a few more keys.
‘Here we are,’ she said, reading off a screen. ‘Lance Riley. First logged in 08:12AM. Final log out 04:35PM.’
‘So not really leaving early,’ said Leroy.
‘Official finishing time is 5PM, but as you can see…’ She tapped her watch.
‘Sure. His partner said he normally got home around six, so he must normally leave just after five. Allowing for traffic.’
Domingo nodded. ‘Yeah, so Friday wasn’t really early.’
‘That’s right,’ said Ms Kennedy. ‘And that’s just the time he logged off the system. He could have been doing paperwork afterwards.’
‘Where’s his office?’ asked Leroy, sitting up and looking around. ‘I’d like to take a look around.’
‘Next door to here.’ She indicated to the right. ‘Help yourself.’
‘Thanks.’ He stood up. ‘How much longer will you be here? We can come back in the morning if -’
‘I’ll be here till seven at least,’ Ms Kennedy smiled.
‘Okay.’ They both stood up and stepped into the office next door. It was similarly configured as Ms Kennedy’s, only slightly smaller. There was a desk, with PC screen and keyboard, a small bookcase, containing three books, and a small filing cabinet. There was a GANT chart on one wall, and on the corner of his desk was a small portrait of Michelle Alexander, taken before she was pregnant.
‘Have a look through the cabinet,’ said Leroy. ‘I’ll check the desk.’
‘Are we looking for anything in particular?’
‘Not really. See what we can come up with. Although his laptop would be good.’
Leroy checked through the three desk drawers and came up with nothing. Leaving Domingo to rifle through the filing cabinet, he stepped outside and leaned around Ms Kennedy’s doorway.
‘Ms Kennedy? Sorry to bother you.’
‘What can I do for you, Detective?’
‘Ms Alexander - Michelle - said Lance used a laptop.’
‘He would have done, yes.’
‘It’s not in his office; I’m guessing he would have taken it with him.’
‘Oh, yes; he would always do that. Anything I can help with?’
‘No; it’s okay, thanks.’ He turned to go then stopped. ‘There might be, actually. He would have had a company email account, yes?’
‘U-huh.’
‘Would you have supervisor access to his account? Could you use a password to override the system and get into his account?’
‘Yes, I can. Would you like me to try now?’
‘Please.’ He sat down on one of the chairs.
She pulled out a filofax from one of her drawers and looked up something, a password Leroy presumed. More keystrokes, then said, ‘Here you are, Detective.’
He stood up.
‘I need to visit the restroom. Sit here while I’m gone.’ She vacated her chair and swung it round to face Leroy.
‘Thanks.’ He sat in the chair as she left. He moved around in the chair. It was softer than the ones the other side of the desk, and more comfortable. And it smelled of her perfume. Leroy breathed in and turned to the screen.
First of all he checked Lance’s email account: the inbox, sent messages, drafts, trash. There were several sub-folders apparently named after Lance’s numerous clients: Leroy checked them as well.
‘Talk about getting your feet under the table,’ said Domingo in the doorway. ‘Where’s she gone?’
‘Restroom. She’s logged on as a supervisor for me. I’m looking through his emails and stuff. He would have taken his laptop home. Anything in there?’
‘Zip. You found anything?’
‘Nothing of interest here.’
‘What about his search history? It would only show what he’s searched for on there, not the laptop, but it might show something.’
‘Yeah, but if he’s arranged anything to do with drugs, he would have done it on his laptop, surely?
‘Probably, Sam, but it’s worth a shot.’
‘Yeah, guess so.’ Leroy clicked on the search bar, then on Search History. Started to tab down.
‘Well,’ he said, looking up at Domingo.
‘That’s interesting.’
SIXTEEN
Domingo stepped round to the other side of the desk and looked down at the screen. ‘What’s interesting?’ she asked.
‘Look at the search history.’ Leroy tapped the screen. The search field was blank.
‘Nothing there,’ Domingo said. ‘So what’s interesting?’
‘The fact that there’s nothing there.’
‘How so?’
‘Think about it, Liza. You type in whatever you’re looking for here.’ He tapped the blank bar on the screen. ‘If you click on this arrowed button here,’- he tapped again - ‘you get a list of previous enquiries you’ve made, previous sites you’ve visited.’
‘Yeah, I know that, Sherlock. You’re saying he’s deleted his history. Right?’
‘And why would he do that?’
‘Hold on, Sam. This isn’t his office, is it?’
‘What does that have – oh, shit, of course.’
‘You need to do this in there, on his PC. Did she give you the password?’
‘No, but she’s only gone to the bathroom. She’ll be back in a moment.’
They both stood up and wandered out into the corridor. Domingo went back into Lance Riley’s office and continued her searching. Leroy looked around for Ms Kennedy. There was no sign of her. He wandered down the corridor, past the elevators, until her could hear her voice. Then he came to a small waiting area comprising a low table and three chairs. Ms Kennedy was sitting on the table, holding a paper cup of coffee and talking into a cell phone. She looked up and saw him.
‘Hey look; can I call you back?’ she said into the phone. ‘Okay, bye.’
She pressed a key on the phone and stood up. ‘Wanted to give you guys some space,’ she said.
‘Sure,’ said Leroy. ‘Look Ms Kennedy -’
‘Call me Emma,’ she smiled.’
‘Emma, he continued. ‘What you did with the password and Lance’s account back then: could you do the same thing on his computer?’
She nodded. ‘For sure.’
She led him back to the little suite of offices. ‘I’ll just have to log off the one here first,’ she said, walking into her office. A minute later she joined them in Lance Riley’s.
‘Thanks again.’ Leroy smiled at her as Lance’s screen flickered into life.
‘You’re welcome.’ She smiled back and returned to her own office.
Leroy sat down behind the desk and moved the cursor up to the arrow button. There were three entries in the search history: United Airlines, Catalina Vacations, and Netflix.
‘Same again,’ said Domingo.
Leroy nodded. ‘Yeah. Must have looked at these three Friday afternoon. After he had cleared his history.’
‘But why clear the search history? Unless he’d been on a website he didn’t want anyone to know about.’
‘Like one for wherever he went after work Friday.’
Domingo leaned forward and spoke quietly. ‘But the search history had been cleared on that one in there. On hers.’
‘That’s right.’ He got up and went into the office next door.
‘Sorry to disturb you, Ms – Emma.’
She looked up. ‘How can I help you?’
‘We’ve noticed that Lance had cleared his search history.’
‘Right….,’ she said slowly.
‘But we noticed the same on there.’ He pointed down to her screen. ‘Does that mean you had done the same thing?’
She sat back in her chair and rubbed her forehead. ‘Oh dear,’ she said. ‘This is so embarrassing.’
Leroy said nothing.
‘Is what I tell you – confidential? Between these four walls?’
‘As long as it’s not illegal and has no bearing on Lance’s death.’
‘It isn’t. It doesn’t. I’m – I’m single, and in my late thirties. I – I…oh this is so embarrassing… I – how shall I say – I enjoy the company of younger men. Much younger men.’
‘Over the age of eighteen?’
‘Early twenties. Twenty-five tops.’
Leroy said nothing.
‘There’s an agency I use.’
‘An escort agency?’ he asked.
She swallowed and nodded. ‘If any of them out there found out, I’d be a laughing stock. I sometimes go to their site here and – and search for, for…’
‘For a date?’
She nodded. ‘If I do, I always clear my search history. Our system is secure, our protocols robust, but just in case…’
Leroy said, ‘I get the picture. But do you know of any reason why Lance’s search history would be clear also?’
Ms Kennedy shook her head. ‘No. No, apart from him not wanting anyone to know where he had been visiting.’
‘This is an IT company: is there any way to retrieve what he had deleted? You know, look on the hard drive or something.’
‘Er – yes, it is possible. Would you like us to take a look at it for you? See if we can find anything?’
‘No thanks, but I appreciate the offer. I’ll get our guys in Computer Crime to take a look. I’ll just need to take his disc drive.’
She pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure if…’
‘It would be appreciated. And it would save us having to come back in the morning with a warrant.’
‘You don’t leave me much choice, Detective.’
Leroy smiled at her. ‘We’ll give you a receipt, and you should have it back in a day or so. Unless it’s needed in evidence.’
‘Evidence? Evidence of what?’
‘Much appreciated,’ Leroy repeated. ‘My colleague and I will just disconnect the drive, and be out of your hair.’
Leroy left Ms Kennedy in her office and returned to Lance Riley’s.
‘Any luck?’ he asked Domingo.
‘Nah. Nothing here.’
‘Emma, you mean?’ Domingo said quietly with a smirk on her face.
‘Very funny. I’ve arranged to take the disc drive, or whatever it’s called, back for the CCU to take a look at. Check the hard drive or whatever.’
‘Okay.’ Domingo leaned down and unplugged the numerous wires. Picked up the black box. Ms Kennedy was talking on her landline as they left; she gave Leroy a wave as he left a small receipt for the processor on her desk.
*****
It was dark by the time Leroy and Domingo got back to Police HQ. A little after seven. They nodded at two groups of uniformed officers who were leaving the building just as they entered. Shift change. Leroy yawned as they walked into Homicide. All desks bar one were empty. A young Indian man in shirtsleeves sat at the desk, working on a keyboard. He looked up.
‘Hey, guys.’
‘Hey Sudeep,’ Leroy and Domingo said in unison.
Leroy slumped into his chair and yawned.
‘Overtime?’ Domingo asked.
Sudeep turned away from the screen. ‘Just finishing off some bits.’ He looked at the disc drive. ‘That looks interesting.’
‘Yeah,’ said Leroy. ‘It’s all to do with the John Doe we had in Century City last week. He has a name now, and we got this from where he works. Only for some reason he cleared his search history. Might be nothing to do with what happened to him but we’re going to get the guys in the CCU to have a look at it.’
Sudeep sat up and frowned. ‘You don’t need them to do that,’ he said.
‘How do you mean?’ asked Leroy. ‘I asked the office manager there – and it’s an IT company after all – if what he deleted could be retrieved and she said it was possible. Offered to get her boys to take a look for us. See if they can find anything.’
‘Bullshit,’ said Sudeep. ‘Plug it in, Sam. I can do it in five minutes.’
SEVENTEEN
Leroy strolled out of the restroom and headed straight for the vending machines. Got himself a coffee and candy bar then returned to the Homicide Desk. The other two had previously declined his offer.
When he got back to his desk, Domingo and Sudeep were hunched over a keyboard. They had attached Lance Riley’s processor to Leroy’s equipment. Domingo looked up as he arrived.
