Body of Evidence

nothing special.

'We done?' Nick asked.

Catherine took one last look, then said, 'Yeah-let's head for la Casa Randle.'

'You're spending way too much time with Tomas….'

In the corridor, they informed Austin and Randle of their intention, loaded up their gear and a small caravan took off for Crown Vista Drive: CSI Tahoe in front, then Randle and Austin in the lawyer's Jaguar, finally O'Riley's Taurus. Nick caught the Beltway and followed it around to Flamingo, taking that to Fort Apache Drive. From there the twisty streets of the Lakes development swooped around, until the Tahoe drew up in front of 9407 Crown Vista Drive.

Nick parked, Austin's Jag pulling up into the driveway of a three-car garage, itself bigger than the average house in Vegas. O'Riley parked on the street directly behind the Jag in the driveway: if Austin wanted to leave before the LVMPD was finished, he'd be backing over his client's lawn to do so.

The two-story house was impressive in size but otherwise typical of the desert town-cream stucco with a red tile roof-and not what Catherine expected, simply because it was so typical, particularly of the Lakes area. Someone artistic, like Randle, might well live in a residence with a little more flair or style.

The front yard, richly green and well manicured, did have the touch of a Chinese elm, a small mulch-filled circle of stones surrounding it. Two pillars held up a second floor that stood out over the entrance and left the front door and the two skinny windows on its either side in perpetual shade. An afterthought of a sunroom seemed to lean against the side of the house, just to the right of the entrance.

O'Riley followed the lawyer and his client to the door, while Catherine and Nick were getting their equipment out of the back of the Tahoe. By the time the CSIs caught up, they found Austin, O'Riley and Randle off to one side of the large stoop, the ad man pulling nervously on a cigarette.

O'Riley gestured in a presentational manner. 'Unlocked, and all yours.'

Catherine asked, 'You're not coming in, Sarge?'

'Think I'll keep the counselor and his client company.'

Austin said, 'I've advised Mr. Randle to stay out of your way. If you need to know where something is, need any help with anything…just let us know.'

'Thank you, Catherine said, tugging on her latex gloves. Nick already had his on. The white steel door opened onto an entryway that bled at right into a suitably airy sunroom with lots of rattan furnishing; at left, stairs hugged the wall on their way to the second floor. Just past the sunroom a door was open onto a half-bath, opposite which was a door that Nick discovered led to the vast garage.

Much of the downstairs was essentially behind the garage. Catherine entered a galley-style kitchen with a breakfast bar on the far side opening into a great room with an overstuffed sofa, two overstuffed chairs, a thirty- six-inch TV and a set of black shelves that held a monster stereo system. Large windows on the back wall showed the blue water of a swimming pool outside.

'Pays to advertise,' Nick said.

'No,' Catherine said. 'People pay to advertise.'

A hallway led to a large bedroom that-judging from the male feel of the room and a work area in the far right corner, with drawing board-had to be Randle's.

'Upstairs or down?' Catherine asked.

Shrugging, Nick said, 'Up.'

Catherine started by examining the bedroom work area. A large if prefab-looking desk accommodated a desktop computer, printer, scanner and zip drive. The latter zip was of particular interest-Randle could have downloaded the kid-porn images at home and conveniently taken them to work on that disk they'd found in his office.

Taking her cue from Tomas's process at the agency, she photographed all the equipment and wiring, then one by one disconnected the various pieces.

Two hours later, the sunroom encompassed a pile of evidence they'd take with them: the bedroom computer and all associated media; a laptop Catherine had found in a corner next to the sofa in the great room; another PC tower from a computer Nick had located upstairs; and, not insignificantly, two boxes that Catherine had discovered in Randle's closet.

One box was filled with hard-core porn magazines as well as photo albums that showed Randle and at least a dozen other people in various sexual situations. The other box was stuffed with triple-X DVDs and videotapes. On first pass, the magazines-evenly divided between newsstand magazines like Hustler and Penthouse and harder material available only in 'adult' bookstores or on the net-seemed to contain nothing but photos and stories of and pertaining to adults.

Likewise, the photo albums showed nothing but adults having sex-swinger-party Polaroids. Catherine knew that the lack of children or young teens in this material didn't mean a great deal, though the magazines and albums did reflect a strong interest on Randle's part in sexually oriented material. That, of course, didn't make him a child pornographer or even a consumer of child pornography.

About half an hour into the search, Nick had invited Randle and his attorney-and O'Riley, of course-to come in and sit in the kitchen, where they had coffee and watched CNN.

As Catherine and Nick were preparing to load the property up, Randle must have got a sense of it, because the lord of the castle came in with his lawyer trailing quickly behind (and O'Riley ambling thereafter).

Randle's eyes widened at the sight of the pile on the sunroom floor. 'Isn't this a little excessive…. Oh, jeez- you're taking my daughter's computer, too?'

'Every computer in the house,' Catherine said. 'No exceptions.'

'Well, hell-she needs that! How's she supposed to do her homework?'

Nick said, 'We'll try to get it right back to you, Mr. Randle…but in a case like this, we're going to check every computer you could have come in contact with.'

Catherine said, 'That's quite a collection you've got there,' and gestured to the boxes of adult material.

'What about it? It's not illegal.'

'Not illegal-maybe a little damaging, when you're being investigated for a sex crime.'

The attorney stepped up, asking Catherine, 'Ms. Willows, isn't it? Was there any child pornography in the collection?'

'Not that we've seen thus far,' Catherine said.

Nick said, 'We haven't been through it all. Your client's a real collector.'

Obviously as frustrated as he was irritated, Randle said, 'Let me save you a step-you're not going find any child porn, because there isn't any in there!'

Catherine asked, 'Would you care to comment on the photo albums? Pornography is one thing; but you obviously take a…proactive interest.'

The attorney touched Randle's arm and said, 'You don't have to explain yourself, Gary. We'll discuss this-'

But Randle said, 'I have nothing to hide, Jonathan!'

'I know you don't, but-'

Randle looked directly at Catherine. 'You see, my ex-wife-'

'Elaine.'

His eyes tightened, when he realized Catherine knew his ex-wife's name; but he pressed on: 'Yes, Elaine…. Elaine and I were, for a time, in…how should I say this…a certain lifestyle.'

'Swinging,' Catherine said. 'Wife swapping? Group sex?'

His eyes fell to the floor; he nodded. 'I'm not proud of it. It was kind of an experimental phase we were both going through. We'd both had affairs, and got back together, and we thought maybe…I don't know. We'd save the marriage somehow, by this…openness. Anyway, it was a mistake. In fact, in the end, I think that…activity…was what led to Elaine's drinking getting out of hand.'

'And that phase is over?'

Randle waved dismissively. 'Long since. We ditched the swinger's scene, but…I guess it was too late to save the marriage.'

Nick said, 'If it was just a phase, why hold onto the photo albums?'

'I don't know. I just did. I don't really think that's any of your business, anyway. I've been frank. Doesn't that