Betty Pierre - Murder.Com

"Yes!" Bird uttered, smiling and glancing up at the two detectives. "Just got the last one opened." Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes and pointed at the printer. "I'm printing them out as you suggested."

"So, how'd it go?" Tom asked.

"It's not hard to break open these files, but if someone uses a code or a series of steps to get in, it's tedious. This man had about five different steps, but once I got the hang of what he did, no problem. Just each one had different codes with some crazy little steps. He probably taught himself. I have to admit, though, he had a pretty good system. Not just anyone would be able to do it. But now that I've cracked them, I hope you're not going to leave this computer here with free access to anyone."

"I'll impound it immediately," Tom said.

Meanwhile, Cliff strolled over to the printer and began putting the papers in order as they finished. He had quite a stack by the time the last sheet printed out. He clipped them together and glanced at Tom. "This will take some time. I think we'll need an auditor next."

"Think we better alert the accountant?"

"Wouldn't hurt. He might need a lawyer."

Tom turned to William Bird. "Thank you for your work. You'll receive a check within the next couple of weeks. And anything that you might have read in these files is to be kept confidential."

Bird smiled. "Don't worry, I don't read them, I only open them."

The detective walked him out the door, then motioned for one of the officers to come to the office. "As soon as Detective Maxhimer is through, I want this computer and all its paraphernalia taken to the station immediately, and put under strict security."

Once the printing had stopped, Cliff motioned for the officers to come and get the equipment. Tom had alerted the receptionist to call Ryan Conners, the company accountant, to meet them in the office. A few minutes later, a small man with thick horn-rimmed glasses appeared at the doorway. The glasses looked too heavy for the bony, thin face lined with serious frown wrinkles. The right corner of his mouth twitched as he stood waiting, his arms folded in front of him.

Cliff finally stopped shoving papers into large envelopes and turned around. He looked at the man from under the brim of his hat. "You the accountant?"

"Yes sir, I'm Ryan Conners."

"Sit down, Mr. Conners. I'll be right with you."

The man edged over to the chair and stared at the vacant desktop where the computer had once perched. He crossed his legs and tapped his fingers on the wooden surface while watching Cliff stack the envelopes into a pile.

Tom came back into the building after seeing the equipment out to the police van. He spotted Conners in the office. Not wanting to take notes, he reached into his pocket and flipped on his voice-activated recorder before entering the room. The minute Tom stepped inside, he said. "Mr. Conners, I presume?"

The man leaped to his feet. "Yes sir."

"I'm Detective Hoffman, and this is my partner Detective Maxhimer."

Conners nodded toward both men.

Cliff scooted into Bud's chair behind the desk while Tom stood at the side.

"You may sit down, Mr. Conners," Cliff began. "We've just had the files unlocked on Mr. Nevers' computer. They appear to be the accounting books of this company. I know you've made a statement to the police already. Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

"No sir. I've already explained that I'd talked with Mr. Nevers about the computer crash the day before he died. My data got lost. And now my back-up disk has disappeared."

"Sounds like quite a coincidence, doesn't it?" Cliff asked.

Conners jumped up. "I resent that. I've been with this company for ten years. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize my job."

Cliff lifted a hand and motioned for the man to calm down. "No one's accusing you of anything."

Beads of sweat formed on Conners' forehead. "All I can tell you is that I've done nothing wrong."

"Have you talked to Mr. Weber?"

Conners stopped mopping his forehead with his handkerchief and looked at Cliff with a puzzled expression. "No. Why should I?"

"Just wondered if you told him about the ABC Wafer Company?"

The man's face paled and his Adam's apple worked up and down above his collar. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

Cliff nodded. "Okay, Mr. Conners, you can go. But stay available if we need to talk later."

Conners scurried from the room, still dabbing his face.

Tom turned off the recorder and leaned against the desk. "I do believe that man is scared to death."

"Wouldn't you be? Your boss murdered. A computer crash at a very convenient time. Your back-up disk disappears. Looks like someone is trying to point the finger at the little guy."

Tom nodded. "Yeah, or the little guy is as guilty as sin." He glanced at his watch. "The auditor should be at the station any minute now. We better get going."

Cliff raised his brows as they walked to the car. "Well, you got a lot done today. You should rise before the sun every morning," he chuckled. "So you can beat the traffic. It did you a world of good."

Tom grinned at Cliff's dry wit.

The two detectives had no sooner entered Tom's office when a sharp rap sounded on the facing of the door. They both turned. A tall grinning black man stood in the doorway.

"Hello. I'm John Graves, auditor from Hames and Goode. I'm supposed to meet Detective Tom Hoffman."

Tom stepped forward and extended his hand. "I'm Detective Hoffman. Nice meeting you. This is my sidekick, Detective Maxhimer.

The three men gathered around the desk as Graves removed the ledgers from his valise. While he stacked them on the desk, Cliff placed the printouts from Bud's computer next to them. After explaining what they wanted and the comparisons that needed to be made, the detectives left. Several hours later, Cliff and Tom returned to the office. Cliff shoved a wisp of loose hair back under his golf hat and leaned against the desk. "Well, Graves. What can you tell so far?"

John stood and stretched his tall lanky body, his hands almost touching the ceiling. "So far, I haven't found any discrepancies. You guys sure there's a problem?"

Tom looked puzzled. "What about the ABC Wafer Company?"

"Haven't found a mention of that company anywhere, but I'm not through yet. It might turn up."

Tom rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Doesn't make sense. Crane claimed the company was listed and that he had pointed it out to Nevers. Why would he lie?"

Cliff pulled the record book toward him. "Unless these are dummy books."

Graves thumped the book with his finger. "That's been known to happen. However, all the disks my company has and the printouts you gave me coincide with this written record."

Tom scratched his head. "How about Ken Weber's computer printouts? Do they also match?"

"Yes. Everything matches so far."

"Well, I'd cover my ass too," Cliff growled. "Especially since Bud Nevers is dead and can't confirm what he'd been told.

"I don't know what's going on," Graves said. "But I can tell you the accountant takes the figures he gets and puts them down. He might not discover things aren't adding up until the end of the quarter, six months or even a year later. And even then, some companies send bills late, haven't paid them or get behind. This can really screw the accountant up. All he can do is watch a pattern take form. Then he might go in and warn the boss that something smells fishy. It might take him months to figure out the problem. Computers are making a lot of this much easier, but it's still difficult."

Tom rocked from his heels to his toes several times while staring at the papers strewn across the desk. "How far did you get?"

John bent over the book and checked the dates. "These records cover a five year period. I have two more years to bring it up to date."