Least Wanted (Sam McRae Mystery 2)

* * * * *

Tina was represented by a private attorney who handled a lot of pro bono CINA—or “children in need of assistance”—cases. On occasion, we would talk about her. It looked like I might end up as a witness in the case. I felt too emotional about Tina’s situation to make an effective advocate. Having counsel who specialized in CINA cases seemed to be in her best interest. She ended up in a shelter home, but I don’t know where it is. She hasn’t called since I last saw her. At least, not yet. I hope we’ll talk again, after she’s had time to sort things out. She needs to be the one to decide when that is.

Kozmik confirmed that the computers had been tampered with, but the work station couldn’t be identified. It was never established if Saltzman or LaRue, the game developers, or Fullbright, their boss, had done it. The old data were recovered. They revea

led that the account had been set up before Brad started working at Kozmik. He was off the hook. There was insufficient evidence to indicate who had taken the money. The cops were unable to turn up child porn on any of the suspects’ computers.

Based on the evidence, I was able to clear Brad of the murder charges.

When Brad was exonerated, the Higgins family had a party after Walt was released from the hospital. Walt, a few friends and relatives, and I attended. After dinner Brad wowed us with a slideshow on his new laptop—pictures of a trip he had taken the previous year to the Tetons. He awed the guests with his digital deftness—enhancing images, playing with the colors, sharpening contrast, and zooming in on faraway objects.

Afterward, when the guests went to the dining room for cake and coffee, I hung around while he packed up his laptop. “You’re good at working with digital photographs,” I said.

“I told you. I like computers.”

“As I recall, you said you particularly like computer games, right?”

“Right.” He stuck the laptop in its carrying case. “I think it would be fun to create them for a living.”

“Were you involved in creating new games with Chip Saltzman and Mike LaRue?”

He gave me a blank look. “Huh?”

“The child porn images. The cops never found them on their computers. They must have used someone else’s equipment.”

“What makes you think they used mine?”

“Our private investigator. It took a while to get the latest data, but your bank records showed an unusual increase in your savings account, a couple of months before you were accused of embezzlement.” I looked at him. “You didn’t embezzle that money, did you? But the embezzlers paid you for the use of your sophisticated computer equipment.”

“Of course not. My parents gave me that money.”

“That should be easy to confirm. I’ll ask them right now.”

“No!” Brad said, sharply. “Don’t bother.” He zipped up the carrying case.

“You had to get it from somewhere. I remembered that you had expressed an interest in computer gaming and starting your own business. It occurred to me that maybe Fullbright, Saltzman, and LaRue weren’t the only ones involved in making the child porn game, even if they were the only ones taking money from the company.”

Brad turned away, wearing a sly smile.

“How did you get in on it?”

“I overheard them talking about it, after hours,” he said. “They were talking about setting up an interactive adult entertainment game. They were worried about using the equipment at work because it would leave a record on the computers. They knew they’d get fired in a heartbeat for misusing the equipment and working on pornographic games. At the time, I didn’t realize they were talking about kids.” He shook his head, in a manner that struck me as disingenuous. “Anyway, I let them know I’d heard them. I told them I wanted in, or I’d tell on them. That freaked them out. I certainly see why now. They paid me for my silence and used my equipment. They even taught me a few programming tricks in the bargain. It was a nice arrangement.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know they were embezzling from the company to subsidize this. Everything I said about that was true.”

“So nothing ever showed up on their computers,” I said. “Or would show up on yours, I’d wager. I see you have a new laptop.”

“Sometimes it’s best to cut your losses and run,” he said. “Even if I had the photos on my computer, you can’t turn me in. You’re my lawyer. And I have the right to remain silent.”

“Well, your co-workers’ little side project almost got me and your devoted uncle killed,” I said.

“That’s because you were investigating the embezzlement,” he said. He dropped his voice and emphasized his words. “I didn’t know anything about the child porn. I swear!”

“One was tied to the other,” I said, my voice calm and steady, belying the rage I felt. “As far as I’m concerned, the blood of everyone who died for this is on your hands, too.”

Brad said nothing, exercising his right to remain silent. He remains silent to this day. As do I. I didn’t tell Walt. As I say, some things are best left unsaid.

* * * * *

Whether Powell will go down for Shanae’s murder remains to be seen. The evidence I gave them is thin. Although her description matches Powell, and the prosecution can call her as a witness, Mrs. Mallory wasn’t sure he was the one she saw that night at Shanae’s house. Other than Cooper’s calendar and the photos, no one can connect Powell with the child porn operation or Kozmik. Beaufort or Fisher could have, if they’d lived, which leads me to believe Beaufort’s “suicide” was anything but. If Powell keeps his mouth shut, and the defense attorney can discredit Mrs. Mallory on cross-examination, he may get away with murder. In any case, I suspect I have no further worries. Thanks to Little D, Diesel’s gone for good. He won’t be missed.