It was ten after two in the afternoon and Kaamil hadn’t heard anything about Sam Newman’s unfortunate suicide from his source in the police department. His source at KOIN, the CBS Portland affiliate, hadn’t heard anything either.
Kaamil stopped pacing in front of his office window, returned to his desk, and picked up his phone.
“Get me that detective out in Hillsboro, Carson, I think. Tell them it’s about the Martin Research investigation and don’t let them tell you they’ll give him the message. I need to talk with him today.”
He didn’t have time to play phone tag with the police. He had to report to Malik that he had the situation covered, or he would have to send a team to take care of the nosey attorney. If the man wanted to stick his nose where it didn’t belong, he was all too happy to cut it off, along with the rest of his head.
“Sir, Detective Carson’s on line one.”
“Detective Carson, Kaamil Sayf. I’m the regional manager of ISIS. I wanted to check in and see if you needed anything from me for your Martin Research investigation. I know you probably want to wrap that up as quickly as possible.”
“I think I have most of it worked out, Mr. Sayf. I am curious about one thing, though. As I understand it, there are two people who have the code to turn off the security system at Martin Research, you and Sam Newman. Is there anyone else who might have access to that code?”
“We have the code, certainly, we installed their system. There are several of my employees who have access to the Martin Research system codes in case there’s a need to get into their system for some reason, but it’s not something that’s just lying around in our office. Why do you ask?”
“The system was turned off the night Mr. Martin’s secretary was killed. I’ll need the names of your employees who have access to those codes.”
“You’re wasting your time if you think someone here turned off that system. How about Sam Newman? What’s he saying?”
“Unfortunately, he isn’t saying anything. He’s dead.”
“How unfortunate.”
“You knew the man, you know any reason someone would want to see him dead?” Detective Carson asked.
“You think someone killed him?”
“Could be. You going to give me the names of your employees with access to that security code, or do I need to get a court order?”
“Don’t threaten me, Carson. Do your job. Stop looking for some nigger to pin this on,” Kaamil said, and slammed down the phone.
Damn it, he thought, if the police weren’t buying Newman’s suicide, he’d just have to give the lazy cop a little more evidence to convince him. And now, there was clearly a need to take care of the attorney. Even if his death raised suspicion, they were too close to be stopped now by some snoopy counselor who wouldn’t let well enough alone.