Playing Dead

Claire’s stomach dropped. “How could he know that? How did you know?”

“The FBI has a surveillance tape of your dad in Redding. And then there’s the buzz around the D.A.’s office that he’s surrendering today. J.T. knows people there. And in the FBI.”

“I’m not doing anything illegal,” Claire said.

“Just watch yourself, okay?”

Claire didn’t want to be fired, she loved her job, but her father’s innocence and safety were more important than her career.

“I’ll be careful.”

Jayne nodded. “If you need me for anything, you know how to reach me.”

“I have a question. A computer question.”

Jayne sat down on the corner of Claire’s desk. “What?”

“How could a digital file disappear?”

“You need to be more specific.”

“Don’t ask me why.”

“All right.”

“There’re two missing coroner’s reports. They are archived digitally and kept in a data warehouse. They are in the log, but not on the tape.”

“Is there other data on the tape?”

“I think so.”

“Well, if there isn’t, the tape was corrupted. Someone didn’t check once they burned the tape or the disk that the data was readable or even there. It happens all the time because people are lazy. But if there’s other data on the tape, then those files were never copied over.”

“You can’t just delete them?”

“Most data warehouses store data on unrewritable software, to prevent accidental deletion of data. There are a lot of protections in place. Climate controls, backups of all data, and-”

“Backups? Why would they need a backup?”

“Most good archive systems have a searchable system, then a condensed data file that has everything they have in the searchable system. So if there’s some big catastrophe, they can re-create the data files.”

“Is there a way to erase some files and not the others?”

“There’s a way to do everything, Claire. But it wouldn’t be easy. They’d need access and everything leaves a trail. It’s easier to leave a false trail than no trail. Unless you’re really good.”

“Like you.”

Jayne smiled.

“But if it was never there. .”

“If it was never there, you can’t do anything about it, but then there shouldn’t be a record of the data in the log. Unless the log was manually created, which sort of defeats the purpose of eliminating human error. If there’s a log of the files, and they’re just gone, then they’re still there.”

“Stop. You’ve confused me.”

“Anything deleted isn’t really deleted. Unless the tape is completely wiped-and there’re ways of doing that- then the data is still there. It’s just hidden.”

“Could you find it?”

“If it’s there, I can find it.”

“Would you do me a favor?”

“Depends.”

“I have a friend in the coroner’s office. He has access to the archives. He’s the one who discovered the files were missing. If I clear it with him, can you help him find the hidden files?”

“Between you and me, right?”

Claire pretended to zip her lip and toss away the key.

Jayne nodded. “Okay.”

Jeffrey Riordan arrived in Sacramento just after ten that morning. He’d had to suffer through traffic almost the entire drive from San Francisco-it had taken three hours when it should have taken two. He drove directly to Richie’s house. Chad Harper answered the door.

“Clue me in, Harper. What the fuck is going on? Hamilton has called me a half-dozen times in the last two days. It’s usually Richie who panics, not Judge Prozac.”

“You know everything, except the latest news. Hamilton is on the phone with Richie. The district attorney is meeting right now with O’Brien’s attorney to arrange terms of surrender.”

“Good! Get him back into custody. Take care of him once and for all.”

“There’s a little problem.”

“What?”

“The FBI is involved.”

“Shit.”

They didn’t have a mole in the FBI office. Local government, local law enforcement, D.A.’s office-within reach, they had at least one person under their thumb. But the FBI? None. And it irked Jeffrey. He had one, but only in Washington. That sure as hell wouldn’t help him here in Sacramento.

He started up the stairs, but Harper called him back. “I had a call from Isleton.”

“Isleton? Who the fuck cares about-” He stopped. “Dammit, I knew we should have offed Barney when he moved back to Sacramento.”

“Jeffrey, sometimes murder isn’t the best solution. Barney knew nothing of Lowe’s arrangement with Taverton. He went to L.A., bought a bar, lost a bunch of money, returned to his hometown. Nothing strange there. Killing him? No. Maddox didn’t learn anything from him. He’s not talking because he knows shit. If he knew anything, our snitch would have heard.”

“That retard?” Jeffrey snorted.

“At least she follows orders and keeps her mouth shut.”

“So who’s down there snooping this time?”

“Two federal agents.”

“Shit.”

“They’re only following up on Maddox’s death. I don’t think they will be a problem.”

“You don’t know that! This is spiraling out of control again, just like with Maddox. If we’d taken Barney out of the picture with Lowe, or even two years ago, I’d be far more comfortable.”

“Barney knows nothing. It’s too late to do anything-killing Barney would only raise suspicions, and if he knew what Frank Lowe did, he would have talked or asked for money.”

“Maybe, but somebody tipped off Maddox about Tip Barney being back in Sacramento.” Jeffrey hated not being in control.

“Maddox found out about Lowe and Barney from Taverton’s personal files, but we have those now-both the copies and the original-so there’s no threat. And if Claire O’Brien starts asking questions, she’ll be taken care of.”

“She’s far too nosy. Let’s keep this tidbit from the others. They are already too paranoid, and paranoia makes people act stupid.”

“Agreed.”

Jeffrey went to the top of the stairs and opened the double doors into Richie’s plush office. “Put Hamilton on speaker,” he demanded.

Richie said into the phone, “Jeffrey’s here. You’re now on speaker, Hamilton.”

“O’Brien is surrendering to the FBI today at six,” he said.

“The FBI? Why?”

“Safety issues. I didn’t get much out of the D.A., but the word is out that Matt Elliott is quietly reopening the case.”

“That’s it. We’re done for,” Richie said.