The security chief reached forward and ejected the DVD from the computer. Placing it back in the jewel case, he handed it to Assistant Director Collins.
“Thank you for getting that together for me so quickly, James,” Collins took the disc.
“Of course, sir. Pleased to be of assistance,” the reply was courteous, as always.
James Darien, head of building security and surveillance, was one of Collins’ most trusted subordinates, but sometimes he couldn’t help but watch the man for subtle signs of insubordination. After all, they had come up in the agency at the same time, and he knew better than most that Darien had never wanted this; to be a security guard, stuck in an unglamorous, middle management position. Darien had worked at the NIA for over 35 years, and he was an exemplary agent: meticulous, hardworking, obedient; always went the extra mile. In the beginning, Darien had been an ambitious young man. He had tried for many years to advance his career, but he just didn’t have what it took to handle the high-profile cases, to manage the field agents. And everyone knew it, except him, it seemed. The powers that be considered Darien an adequate administrator, but if Collins remembered correctly, the word that they had used most to describe Darien had been ‘mediocre’. Though Collins would never admit it publicly, there was a time when he had done his very best to encourage that view. After all, they had been competing for the same position, and he had wanted this job badly. It had gotten a bit ugly, but in the end, he had come out on top, and Darien had been relegated to the basement, destined to spend his days watching security footage and monitoring employee internet usage. It had been a difficult transition, at first, but after the initial awkwardness, Darien seemed to really commit to the job. He redoubled his efforts, improving training and departmental efficiency, and over time he had become someone Collins couldn’t help but rely on. And heaven knew Collins needed someone in his corner today. The Director was away ‘on business,’ as usual, and as a result, Collins was currently in charge of the facility. Truth be told, he preferred it that way, and really didn’t want to give the man any reason to rush back. As such, he had to eliminate any possibility of foul play in the death of Duane Tompkins, because that sort of thing could reflect very badly on him, if he didn’t get out ahead of it. Darien had had all the surveillance tapes ready before Collins even asked, and though it was early in the morning, they had already finished going over them together, scrutinizing every moment, frame by frame.
“As you saw from the footage,” Darien concluded, “you never really had any reason to be concerned, sir. No one even approached Tompkins after he was put into the cell. If you ask my opinion, sir, the stress of his arrest, coupled with the guilt over his crime, and over betraying his cousin, it was all simply too much for him.”
It was a reasonable theory; some people did not deal with pressure well. It was possible that Tompkins was just one of those people. Yes, Collins was satisfied that the incident was exactly what it had appeared to be the night before, a natural death. He breathed a sigh of relief,
“That fits with the coroner’s findings. Heart attack. There appears to be nothing suspicious here.”
“That is good news, Assistant Director.”
“However,” Collins continued. “This incident raises some serious concerns about our prisoner security protocols. No one noticed that he had collapsed for over 20 minutes. He was already long dead by the time anyone even noticed. It should never have taken that long. With that kind of lax security, a prisoner could be halfway to Calgary before anyone noticed they were missing. Not to mention the health and safety concerns. That is unacceptable, Darien.”
“I completely agree, sir,” Darien bowed his head, appropriately contrite. “I have already spoken with the agent involved. He has been written up more than once for falling asleep on the job. This was his last chance; he has already been replaced with someone more reliable. I assure you that it won’t happen again.”
“I trust that it won’t,” Collins replied sternly. “All the same, I think we should prepare to run some drills, test the preparedness of your staff. Can you arrange that for next month?”
“Of course. Leave it to me, sir.”
As long as they took the proper steps to improve response time, Collins was satisfied that this incident had been dealt with. He was eager to put it behind him.
“Report back to me when you have the plans in place,” Collins rose, shaking Darien’s hand. “I will help with the final arrangements.”
“Of course, Assistant Director.”
Darien slipped out the door, closing it silently behind him. Collins was about to put the disc away in his desk drawer when he heard the sound of his secretary protesting through the door,
“He’s very busy right now, you really can’t go in there,” she insisted in her clipped tone.
“Don’t worry. I’ll only be a second.”
The second voice was unmistakable, and unwelcome. The door burst open, and Taylor Hawkins appeared in his office,
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“’Morning, Assistant Director.”
“What is the meaning of this, Agent Hawkins?” Collins demanded, rubbing his temples in an attempt to fend off a headache. Hawkins had that effect on him.
“I just ran into Chief Darien in the hallway, he told me you have the surveillance footage from the holding cell. I was hoping I could borrow it real quick.”
“Next time make an appointment,” Collins sighed, knowing that he had no chance of that happening. He tossed her the disk.
“Why are you wasting your time on this? It was a natural death. I already reviewed the footage myself. You should be more concerned about finding me the other suspect. The one you lost.”
“Looks like I’m not the only one that loses suspects,” she raised an eyebrow, tapping the disk on her palm. Then, she spun on her heel and left the room.
The jab stung. No matter how the prisoner died, he had died on Collins’ watch, and he had to take a certain responsibility. Perhaps if the response time had been better, the man would have lived. Collins grimaced; spending time with Hawkins tended to leave a bad taste in his mouth. As the door slammed behind her, he reflected that she was the exact opposite of James Darien. It was only made worse by the fact that she seemed to have no desire for career advancement at all. The ambitious ones were easy to manage; dangle a carrot and they’d go where you wanted them to. Hawkins, however, seemed quite happy where she was, so she had little motivation to appease him. The sooner he could break her, or fire her, the happier he would be. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He pressed his intercom button,
“Judith, please lock my office door. I want no more interruptions.”
Ryan Stone sat in the AV room in the basement. He looked up as Hawkins turned the corner and tossed him a DVD; Ryan caught it and popped it into the computer.
“Did you make popcorn?” she flopped into the chair next to him, propping her feet up on the desk.
“Yeah, a good snuff film always puts me in the mood for salty treats,” he rolled his eyes. “Especially right after an autopsy.”
Hawkins laughed. She had been perfectly comfortable in the morgue, watching Tompkins’ autopsy. Ryan on the other was a little more squeamish. There was something about seeing another person’s internal organs being removed one by one that was very unsettling, especially when you had been speaking with that same person only hours earlier. It was part of the job, but he was still glad that it was over. The coroner had ruled it a natural death, but that hadn’t stopped Hawkins from wanting to see the video surveillance before she accepted it. She had even asked the coroner to hold the body, until he heard back from her.
“Looks like Collins and Darien have already been over the footage. Guess they didn’t see anything interesting, because Collins handed it right over and told me not to waste my time,” Hawkins chuckled. “Although maybe he only gave it to me because he hates having me in his office. I am pretty sure that he thinks insubordination is contagious and I might spread it to the others if I stick around too long. It’s just a theory, but I think it explains a lot.”
“You don’t like him much, do you?”
“He’s an incompetent prick. I’m not going to respect someone who doesn’t deserve it. And trust me, he doesn’t,” her tone was cold.
Ryan got the distinct impression that there was a story there, but also that pushing for it would be a bad idea, so he let it go. They had work to do. He hit play and the security footage appeared on the monitor. The holding cell was empty, but after an instant the cell door slid open, and he could see an agent ushering Duane into the cell.
“Darien cued this up nicely,” Ryan commented. “How long was Duane in custody for, anyway?”
“About 6 hours.”
Ryan covered his face with his hands.
“Well, this should be fun,” he groaned.
“We can speed it up a bit, but not too much. I have to be able to tell if anything unusual happens.”
“What counts as unusual, exactly?”
“I’ll know it when I see it,” she replied, eyes riveted on the screen. “Hopefully.”
So, they sat back and watched Duane pace his cell. Immediately, Ryan could tell that the man was terrified of something; his face looked drawn and haunted. Ryan didn’t remember him being that afraid when he’d left, he turned to Hawkins,
“What exactly did you say to him when I was gone?”
“I already explained that. I asked him who put him up to the crime. I told him that I knew there was another man, and that I would find out who it was. I was just trying to see if I could get a rise out of him.”
“Looks you scared the hell out of him.”
“I think that his reaction strongly suggests the existence of a third man. But, then again, the fear could come from having betrayed his cousin, too. Martin is clearly a dangerous man. So, it is hard to tell for sure what he is reacting to. I needed him to confirm a silent partner, because right now there is no direct evidence, just hints of his influence around the edges.”
“Maybe there is no direct evidence because he doesn’t exist,” Ryan reasoned. “Maybe we are just underestimating one of our players.”
“Do you know how Neptune was discovered?” she asked suddenly.
“Neptune?” Ryan was somewhat thrown by the abrupt change in topic.
“You know, the planet?”
“Of course I know the planet, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Astronomers predicted that there was an 8th planet before they ever observed it. They knew it was there because the orbit of its neighbour, Uranus, deviated significantly from what it should have been if Uranus was the last planet in the solar system. Astronomers saw this deviation from the norm, and from that they predicted that there must be another planet; one that hadn’t yet been found, one that was modifying the orbit of Uranus. And they were right; the gravitational pull of Neptune was affecting Uranus’ movement, changing how it behaved.”
“OK, I get it. You’re saying that even without direct evidence, we should be able to predict the presence of your third man by looking at the effect he has on the actions of the two suspects we can see,” Ryan said.
“Exactly,” Hawkins smiled. “However, it is still just a theory. Once they predicted Neptune’s presence, they spent years scouring the sky before they actually located the planet and confirmed their hypothesis. I need to find some solid evidence; otherwise, all this is just guesswork and supposition.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t take years,” Ryan sighed.
“I’ll second that,” Hawkins agreed.