"This footage corroborates their story," the tech told Morgan. They'd taken a copy of the recording from the apartment's entrance camera from the day in question. The tech had been sieving through it for an hour to find the details Morgan had requested.
"What?" he asked in disbelief.
"The host's friends arrive ... here," he pointed at the screen showing six young men in jovial spirits arriving at the door. The host greets them at the door, then leads them into the apartment.
"Right, there were more than six though."
"Yep, just the girl with the older man arriving ... here," he spun the scroll wheel until the right point. Sure enough that was Rayer arriving with his arm wrapped around the girl. That was odd though, Rayer claimed to not know who she was.
"There were more than eight guests in that apartment," Morgan said scratching his chin. The tech let the video play out and they watched Rayer and the girl enter the apartment. "How far back have you checked?"
"The entire day's recording," the tech announced, "the owner pops out, does a rew errands, gets home about 3pm. Nothing else happens until the first bunch arrive at 7pm, then Rayer and the girl just before 8pm."
"How about leaving?"
"Yep, all accounted for," he skipped the video along quickly, "here we go ..."
Morgan watched the same six men leaving the apartment in jovial spirits. An odd scenario considering what had transpired inside, they just didn't seem to care.
"And that's all there is on the video?"
"Until the medic arrives, then you and Soren. It's a clear cut case. You're overcomplicating it, Morgan."
No he wasn't, thought Morgan. You don't have a party with eight men, seven under twenty, and only one girl. Even Morgan knew that would make for a dull evening.
"Show me the girl arriving again." The tech spun his scroll wheel and the scene played out a second time. "Freeze that." Rayer and the girl were tightly entwined, it was hard to make out her face. The hair colour matched, a jacket covered her blouse, but the skirt looked the same. There was something he was missing, Morgan was sure.
He shuffled the files in his hand, one of them contained photos of the body. Not this one, not this one either, that's the noise complaint, coroner's report ...
"Whoa, hold on," he went back a file and opened it. "What about the cops arriving at about ..." he scanned the report for the details, "hmm 10pm, to deal with the noise?"
The tech's blank face stared back at him. He spun the wheel to find 10pm and slowly skimmed through the footage. There was nothing.
"They've wiped the video," Morgan said.
"Are you sure the cops actually followed up about the complaint?"
"Hmm, maybe." He flipped through the files again until he found the one containing the photos. There she lay on the white marble floor by the pool. What had he missed?
"Shoes! Spin us back to the girl arriving." He knew what his gut had been telling him before the tech found the scene. That wasn't the same girl, those weren't the shoes he'd found in the bedroom. She was a close match: similar height, hair, had they actually made her dress in the dead girl's clothes?
That wasn't his concern, but it wouldn't surprise him either. He know now that they'd manipulated the video. They were covering up something, and they'd almost got away with it.
He dropped the files on his desk, and left the office on a mission.
==
A half hour later he was standing in an oppulant piazza leading to the most exclusive apartments on board the Coriolis. The doorman hadn't been keen to permit him entry, until Morgan flashed his System Authority credentials. Even then he'd huffed and puffed, the great and good of Vonarburg certainly appreciate their privacy, he thought.
Ahead of him stood two magnificent art-deco elevators servicing the forty floors above his head. Each vertical tube was wrapped in a shining forged bronze tapestry celebrating the station's industrial heritage. A vertical timeline of the advances in metal refinery, each floor a step forwards in history, the very latest methods reserved as a treat for penthouse occupants nearly two hundred metres up.
But Morgan wasn't there to admire the majesty of this wealthy community, he was looking for cameras. The previous night's guests had to pass through this piazza, it was the only way in or out, and as much as the residents insisted on their privacy, they were also paranoid enough to insist that others surrended theirs. It was standard practice to record the entrance to elevator carriages and each landing would do the same.
The door man reluctantly showed him to the security office with its suite of screens watching the comings and goings of those he served to protect.
"Thank you," Morgan dismissed him from the office. "I'll shout if I need you, but this might take some time."
He was reluctant to leave, fearful of what secrets his residents might unwittingly divulge no doubt. Morgan was sure this man had spent many an evening enjoying the nocturnal indescretions of those forgetting they were being watched. But eventually Morgan was left alone and quickly remembered how to navigate the playback system.
He expected nothing from the camera on the penthouse landing. Rayer would have conjoured up some means to disable that, he was sure. He confirmed that first, with a chuckle. Rayer left the apartment a little after 11:30 that night, a full five minutes passed before the camera was covered. Sneaky - wasn't me guv'nor.
He didn't waste time with the other floors, he wasn't building a case from the video footage, their rich lawyers would rip that apart. He was looking for names. Who could he interrogate and break into giving up that evening's secrets. He went straight for the piazza. Faces leaving for the recognition software to identify.
And there they were. The girls first. They left in pairs or threes. Each group coached to act in different ways. He wasn't even sure they were all connected, maybe some had come from other floors, but the face rec would tell him.
Ten minutes later he watched the men depart. One or two he recognised, some met by their own security details waiting impatiently by the elevator exit. The last pair actually overlapped with the medic's arrival.
"Cutting that a bit fine weren't you, Rayer?" Morgan muttered as he watched.
He took a copy of the entire night's video for the tech to process and gather names, but he'd seen all he needed for now.