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I’d just finished the last one when Stu’s response popped up on my screen.
Ashlee says that she backed up the flash drive the Friday before she was terminated and put it in her desk. She remembers locking the drawer but didn’t check the drawer on Monday morning. She left her key on her desk before she left.
If she’d had her key until Monday morning, the chances of someone having gotten into her desk between Friday afternoon and Monday morning was slim. It wasn’t one hundred percent since she hadn’t seen the drive that day, but it was more likely that between the time Ashlee left her key on her desk and when I sent IT down to wipe the computer, someone had used the key to steal the drive.
Though I supposed it could’ve been taken after the computer wipe, depending on when security had picked up Ashlee’s key. I needed to narrow down the timeframe even more, but this was a phone call conversation instead of an email thing.
They answered on the second ring. “Manhattan Records Security. How may I help you?”
“This is Mr. Lexington,” I said, ignoring the image of Ashlee that popped into my mind when I said my name. “I need to know when an employee’s key was retrieved. This would’ve been a week ago yesterday. Employee Ashlee Webb.”
“Of course, Mr. Lexington. One moment while I pull up the record.”
“Thank you.” I took my daily planner from my top drawer and opened it to today. I had electronic reminders on both my phone and computer, and they automatically synced so that I didn’t accidentally double-book, but I also kept a physical copy too. As I waited, I ran over my schedule for the day to confirm that I didn’t have anything important planned.
“Mr. Lexington?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for holding, sir. Our records show that Miss Webb’s key was retrieved from her desk at eleven forty and logged in here at eleven forty-five.”
“Was the key taken out by anyone after that?”
A slight hesitation before he answered, “Yesterday morning, sir. Stu Hancock signed it out, saying that Miss Webb was working as a freelance contractor and he would be responsible for her key. Was that not supposed to happen?”
I hurried to reassure him. “It’s all right. Miss Webb is working under Mr. Hancock as a freelance contractor, as he said.”
I could almost hear his sigh of relief.
“Then no, sir, no one else took out the key until Mr. Hancock yesterday.”
“Who signed the key in?”
“Chris Starr.”
I could rule out some new security guy swiping the drive.
I knew not only the name but the person as well. Chris had been the first security hire I’d made. He’d joined the army right out of high school, wanting to be a sniper. Three months before he had to decide if he was going to re-up, he was blinded in his left eye.
I met him at Club Privé where he’d been working for a couple months after returning to the States. I’d mentioned I was looking for security for Manhattan Records, and he asked if he’d be able to apply. The club was elite and screened their members well, but it was still too crowded and loud for Chris. He’d been working for me ever since.
“I need you to email me the security footage from the A&R department on Monday morning, starting when Miss Webb arrived until Chris picked up the key.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do that right away.”
“Thank you.”
While I waited for the files, I went onto the main server and pulled up the log-in information for that Monday. I kept that information on the main server for any manager to access. My computer was also able to log into the security cameras, but only in real time. Past security footage was on a closed server, accessible only from the security office.
Four people had called off that Monday. One in the art department, two interns in sales, and one of the sound equipment managers. All of them had good track records, and they’d all come back to work the rest of the week. No one had called off Tuesday. Three people Wednesday, and one of them had been out the rest of the week, but there was a note from their manager confirming extenuating circumstances: emergency appendectomy.
Just because no one had disappeared along with the flash drive didn’t mean no one had stolen it. It did, however, lessen the likelihood that whoever had taken it had done so on a whim rather than any forethought on their part. Impulsive didn’t necessarily mean unintelligent, though. They could have already set up a buyer and sold it but were smart enough to know that if they quit right away, they’d be at the top of any suspect list. Or they could not know where to go to find a buyer.
Then again, all of this assumed that the motive was money.
I frowned at the thought. Was it possible that someone hadn’t taken the flash drive because they thought they could sell it? Was there even another possible reason? It wasn’t the sort of thing a person could use for themselves, like stealing towels at a hotel.
Before I could go too far down that particular bunny trail, an alert let me know that the files I’d requested had arrived. I closed out of the attendance records and pulled up the video feed. If I didn’t find anything here, I’d have to widen my search.