“Our computer security staff has logged thousands of attempts to break into our system,” liz said. “Fortunately they’re highly qualified individuals.”
“The main qualification seems to be that they have to be paranoid as rabid wolverines, to the point that they wouldn’t trust their own mothers,” I added. “And these guys are; they’re very good. So the fans have resorted to good old-fashioned corporate espionage methods. They try to sneak in.”
“To find out about this game?” the chief asked.
“Exactly,” I said. “I guess they hope to get some advance information about the game or maybe even steal a prototype. That’s also one of the reasons we have a stupid, old-fashioned switchboard,” I added with a glance at that much-loathed object. “To try to screen out as many nuisance calls as possible.”
“So you think one of these fans could have committed the murder?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “But you were asking about suspicious characters hanging around the office. You want suspicious characters, we’ve got ‘em. Disgruntled ex-employees, demented game fans - oh, and don’t forget the biker,” I added, looking at Liz.
“Biker?” the chief said.
“This guy we keep seeing hanging around the parking lot at night,” I explained. “He’s wearing what looks like a motorcycle gang outfit - you know, greasy jeans, heavy boots, ragged T-shirt, denim vest with some kind of lurid painting on the back.”
“And tattoos,” Liz said, shuddering.
“Yes, he’s covered with tattoos,” I said. “And hair - long hair and a bushy beard. And he’s about six and a half feet tall and built like a linebacker.”
“We’ll keep our eyes peeled,” the chief said. “Has he accosted anyone? Caused any trouble?”
“I’ve only seen him standing around at the edge of the parking lot,” I said. “But that makes me nervous.”
“I haven’t heard of any problems,” Liz said. “Yet.”
“Okay,” the chief said. “Now let me take you through this list of visitors - I want to see if any of them need to be investigated.”
There were only a dozen visitors on the day’s list, and except for the hardware repairman who’d come at eight to fix a rebellious printer, they were all patients who had appointments with one or another of the six therapists.
“I’m afraid you’ve lost me there,” the chief said. “I don’t understand why you have these six therapists on staff.”
“They’re not on staff,” I said.
“Miserable squatters,” Liz muttered through her teeth.
“They were here when we came,” I explained.
“We tried to convince them that staying wasn’t a viable option,” Liz said. “That their very differing business requirements were going to make coexistence quite difficult: So far they have chosen to stay.”
“Can you blame them?” I asked. “I mean, where else are they supposed to go? You know how hard it was for Mutant Wizards to find this space.”
“So other than the shared office space, there’s no connection,” the chief said. “No reason for them to interact with the deceased.”
Liz and I looked at each other.
“No logical reason,” I said. “But they did interact, thanks to Ted.”
The chief sighed. “Why do I think you’re going to tell me they had a reason to dislike him?”
“You must be getting a good picture of Ted’s character,” I said. “I don’t think his constant practical jokes endeared him to them, but I think it was his bugging their offices that really ticked them off.”
“Bugging their offices?”
“We don’t know for certain that was him,” Liz said.
“Yeah, but do you have any doubt?” I countered.
“He could get in a lot of trouble, doing that,” the chief said.
“I’m well aware of that,” Liz said. “I’m still dealing with the legal ramifications of that little escapade.”
I couldn’t help thinking, not for the first time, that Liz did rather seem to enjoy having legal crises to deal with. Was she, perhaps, a bit of an adrenaline junkie? She was certainly a cutthroat negotiator, and I suspected she’d be a pretty sharp litigator if the occasion arose.
“Are the therapists suing you?” the chief asked.
“They threatened to,” Liz said. “Fortunately, because of the danger of industrial espionage, we’d arranged for a weekly sweep by a security firm to detect electronic surveillance devices.”