Body of Evidence

'Of course, since you couldn't arrest him,' Austin was saying, cold blue eyes focused on Catherine, sitting next to O'Riley, 'it might seem reasonable to assume that this matter has been cleared up, as least it does…or rather, doesn't…pertain to my client.'

'Mr. Randle is still a suspect,' Catherine said. 'But he is not our only suspect.'

The attorney nodded. 'Thank you-that's what I needed to know. And, since you're not arresting him, I see no reason for this conversation to continue.' Picking up his briefcase, the attorney rose. 'Gary?' His client stood, as well.

'Slooow down,' O'Riley said, raising a traffic-cop palm.

But Austin and Randle were already halfway around the table and heading for the door.

Catherine called out, 'If your client is innocent, he should also be interested in clearing his name…. And maybe even helping us solve this.'

Stopping at the door, Randle seemed about to speak, but Austin silenced himself a gesture, and said, 'With the treatment he's received from you people, why should he help you in any way?'

'Good citizenship?'

Austin made a face and began to open the door for his client.

'Try this then, counselor-how easy will it be for your client to make a living in his field, in this or for that matter any town, after the media finally finds out he was suspected of either dealing in, or using, child pornography?'

'I hope,' the attorney said, 'that's not a threat to leak such information.'

'Absolutely not. But, the questions will remain-unless we find the actual guilty party. Our best bet at retaining the reputation and integrity of your client-and Newcombe-Gold-is for this case to be closed as quickly as possible, with your cooperation…And I am a parent. If you were sincere before, please help me find whoever's responsible for those photos.'

Soon the attorney and his client had returned to their seats.

But Austin was not through: 'I want it known from the outset that, although my client is cooperating, if for a second I believe you're trying to get him to incriminate himself, this interview is over.'

'Fair enough,' Catherine said. Then, turning to Randle, she asked, 'You've said from the beginning that you're innocent.'

'Because I am.'

'You may be able to guess how many guilty people have said as much to us, over our years of experience. But giving you the benefit of the doubt, if you are innocent, do you have any idea who would or could have done this?'

Randle just shook his head. 'No clue. But then, speaking from my own experience, nobody at the agency knows about my…interests.'

'In erotica. The swinger scene.'

'That's right.'

'No one from Newcombe-Gold was involved in-'

'No one.'

Catherine folded her hands. 'All right, Mr. Randle-walk us through Saturday. The whole day.'

The adman collected his thoughts, then said, 'I got up early that morning. Went for a run around the neighborhood. Heather, my daughter, slept in. When I got back to the house, I took a shower, got ready for work and woke her.'

'What time did you get to the agency?'

'Eight-thirty, nine o'clock maybe.'

'Which?'

He shrugged. 'You know I have loose hours. Just can't be sure.'

'Try. Think back.'

'Well, I stopped at a convenience store and grabbed a cup of coffee on the way in…so probably closer to nine.'

From the sidelines, Nick said, 'I thought Janice Denard made coffee in the office every day.'

'I hate that pseudo-Starbucks swill,' Randle said, with a disgusted look. 'The coffee at Terrible Herbst's is better than that piss Janice brews.'

What a charmer,Nick thought. 'All right,' Catherine said. 'What then?'

'Went into my office, read my snail mail, looked at my messages, then turned on my computer. I originally thought that's what this whole fuss was over-me using Jackson's computer.'

'Why did you end up using his machine if you turned yours on?'

'I mentioned this before, right? I turned mine on, but it wouldn't let me onto the network. I don't know what the hell was wrong with it, but I tried to boot it half a dozen times, before I gave up.'

'Have you used it since?'

He nodded. 'Sunday I was off, of course, and Monday I was out of the office, but Tuesday, before you buttonholed me, I had it on.' A shrug. 'Everything was fine.'

'So,' Catherine said, 'you don't have any idea why the computer was malfunctioning over the weekend?'

'None. But everybody who uses a computer knows the things just kinda misbehave, sometimes.'

'Did you tell anyone at the agency it was on the fritz?'

'Yes-Roxanne Scott. She's Ira Newcombe's assistant…'

'Right.'

'I told Roxanne. Well, she was going on vacation, said she'd leave a note for Janice to get it fixed, first thing Monday morning. And I figured Janice did, when it worked on Tuesday.'

Catherine shifted in her chair. 'Your computer wasn't working, and it occurred to you that you could use Ben Jackson's.'

'Yeah, he was sloppy about his password.'

'You went to his cubicle-then what?'

Another shrug. 'I did the work I came in to do, and went home.'

'What about the work you did? Did you print out anything?'

He thought a moment, then said, 'No, I didn't print anything out. You see, the work I did was confidential-for a client. Honestly, it had nothing to do with what you're investigating.'

Nick said, 'And we should trust you about that?'

Austin said, 'My client's being cooperative. That tone isn't necessary.'

Catherine shot Nick a look that said she agreed with the lawyer. Then she said, 'Tell me this, Mr. Randle-how did you save the file, or files, you were working on?'

'I burned it to a CD and took it with me.'

Nick asked, 'Not a zip disk?'

Randle gave Nick a nasty grin. 'Oh, you mean like the one you 'found' in my office?' To Catherine, he said, 'I don't use them-antiquated technology. If Ian and Ruben would spring for it, and they will soon, I'll have a DVD burner, and these zips and CDs'll all fall by the wayside, like the obsolete crap they are.'

Catherine said, 'You have a strong opinion on the subject. Why?'

Randle seemed looser, now. 'Because even though I'm always hearing that size doesn't matter, with information storage? Size is about the only thing that does matter. A zip disk will hold 250 megabytes, the old ones only a hundred. A CD 700 megs, a DVD holds almost five gigs-there's just no comparison.'

'Where is that disk now, Mr. Randle?'

'In my office-or, at least, it was until you seized all my equipment.'

Nick said, 'So we already have a copy of it.'

'Yes, I suppose you do,' Randle said. 'Are you people getting what you need? Is this going anywhere?'

'Only toward helping prove your innocence,' Catherine said. 'If the time/date stamp matches between your disk and Ben's computer, that would go a long way toward telling us you're not lying.'

'I'm telling you I'm not.'

Nick said, 'We'll ask the machines.'

Catherine said, 'If you're not lying, Mr. Randle, then someone else did this.'