home in Ventura and Sarah Jensen was filling her in on what had happened in court yesterday, with particular emphasis on the afternoon’s proceedings.
“Still, it’s funny that both results were positive.”
“Yeah, weird that,” said Sarah. “But the evidence sample they compared it to was falsified, so the old result doesn’t mean jack shit.”
“Yes but that’s what worries me. What if it happens again with the back-up sample? What if we get two matches?”
“It c
“I have a bad feeling about this. I think Sedaka’s going to try and throw up a smokescreen.”
“He’s done that already. We’re just going to have to point out that the DNA isn’t the only evidence against Claymore. It’s just one piece of the puzzle.”
Wednesday, 26 August 2009 — 22:30
It was late that evening when Andi came home. Gene was curled up on the couch in the den. She had been the TV, but she leapt to her feet up when Andi entered.
“Where were you? I was worried about you!”
“What do you mean?” asked Andi coldly.
“I found the dinner you cooked. Where d’you go… Andi?”
Gene had finally noticed the anger on Andi’s face. The next thing she knew Andi’s hand was lashing out towards her. Instinctively she covered against it and blinked. But what she felt against her forearm was not a blow, but the light slap of a piece of paper. When she opened her eyes a split second later, she saw that the paper was an envelope. Andi made no effort to hold on to it and let it slip from her fingers. Again, acting more on instinct than thought, Gene caught the envelope before it hit the ground.
“You’ve been served,” said Andi coldly.
It took Gene a second to understand what was happening as she looked into Andi’s piercing eyes and saw the intractable look. She tore open the envelope and opened up the folded page to see a subpoena ordering her to be available as a witness on Monday the thirty first of August until discharged by the Court in the case of the State of California versus Elias Claymore.
“What is this?”
“I’m calling you as a witness.”
Gene looked at Andi helplessly, while Andi looked back, if not with confidence, then at least with anger. In this moment, their roles were reversed.
“I have a duty to my client.”
Then, without another word Andi turned abruptly and stormed out.
But Gene realized that Andi could not remain strong for long. And only now, in Andi’s absence, with the spell of anger broken, did Gene succumb to concern for Andi rather than fear for herself.
She leapt to her feet and ran out after her lover, flinging the front door open just in time to hear Andi’s car roars to life and watch it speed away. She looked on helplessly. Then, unsure of what she was going to do next, she walked slowly back into the house.
Thursday, 27 August 2009 — 01:20
Paul Greenberg sat at the console of the computer, with a Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand, reading the science fiction book that he was holding in the other. It was a strange way to be celebrating his 24th birthday. But when you
And on the graveyard shift, it wasn’t even hard work. At just after one o’clock in the morning there was virtually nothing for him to do. But there had to be a Systems Administrator there at all times in case anything went wrong with the network. The network and its peripherals had to be able to operate 24 hours a day. He was, in effect, the night-watchman over a mass of silicon.
Thus it was completely unexpected when the phone by the computer console broke the silence with its inordinately loud ring — so unexpected that it made him jump. The switchboard operated 24/7, but when people called the direct line, it rang louder.
“IT department.”
“Hallo could I speak to Linda please?” said a woman’s voice. There was something warm and strangely seductive about the voice. But then again, most women’s voices were seductive to an computer geek like Greenberg.
“Linda?” echoed Greenberg
“Linda Black,” said the woman.
“There’s no Linda Black
“Of course I’m sure.”
The woman sounded irritated. It put Greenberg on the defensive.
“I can’t say I’ve ever heard of her. Are you sure you’ve got the right department.”
“What do you mean department?” Now the woman sounded bewildered. “Who
“Paul Greenberg. I’m the systems administrator.”
“Systems what?”
“Administrator.”
It gave him a good feeling to say that. All of a sudden he felt as if he were the chief of operations some major in control room. The woman sounded like she was getting flustered but now she had given him a chance to flash his credentials at her. He hoped she was suitably impressed.
“Wait a minute, that isn’t Ritchie’s Pizza?”
“No it isn’t.” By now Greenberg was thoroughly amused. “This is the California government center.”
“Oh God, this is so embarrassing,” replied the woman, gushing awkwardly. “I was calling my friend Linda at Ritchie’s pizza. Gee you must think I’m a right kook.”
“It’s all right. We all make mistakes.”
“Look I’m sorry I disturbed you. You must be terribly busy.”
There was an awkward silence, as if she was waiting for him to say something.
“No, not really. It gets kind of boring on the graveyard shift. I mean the system has to be manned twenty four hours a day just in case the network goes down, but it’s basically only used during the day.”
“Did you say network?”
“Yes.”
“What, you mean like computers?”
“That’s right,” said Greenberg, enjoying the warm enthusiasm in her voice.
“I don’t really know much about computers. My ex-boyfriend tried to explain it to me once, but it was all too technical for me.”
She
“Well it’s a field that’s got too much jargon. But it’s really all very logical.”
“Oh I’m sorry, I guess I should… My name is Barbie… Barbie Jackson.”
