Page 83 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case

Overtime

“Now please give me the highest-level access to your computer
system. Is there any electronic record of when people enter and leave
this building?”
“Yes, if they have one of these magnetic ID cards; the door to the
lobby won’t open otherwise. Visitors—like you—are given a
temporary badge, basically an ID card good for one entry and exit.
As far as I know, all of this movement is recorded somewhere in the
computer.”
Labelle remained mute, her face betraying no amusement at my
unintended elaboration of the obvious—unless she had already
discovered a way to sneak into the building unobserved! I began to
wonder if she fit the profile of the megalomaniac with a streak of
omniscience. TimeWarper had been stuck with several through the
years, often in managerial positions; I wish I could say none of them
were still with the company. Most would end sooner or later hoisted
on their own petard. Perhaps this cocky policewoman would
overreach, stumble and be out of my hair quickly—say, before lunch,
which I had hoped to take alone, in the sanctuary of a rear booth at
Minioni’s.
I logged on as alternate security officer, another of the ill-fitting
hats I am forced to wear, and did the deed—with neither finesse nor
alacrity; computers had been mainly out of sight and out of mind in
my early days of gainful employment. People skills were what I’d
honed over the years on the whetstone of human character. My
training and instincts warned me to give Labelle Gramercy a wide
berth; and I did have a job to do apart from aiding and abetting her
intended masquerade.
“Your log-on ID is LGRAMERC and your password is
GUMSHOE. So you don’t need me for anything else at the
moment?” My question approached the rhetorical as she immediately
commandeered the computer on my side table and set forth on a
furious flurry of keystrokes and mouse-clicks. Some people needed
instruction before they would touch a machine, afraid it might bite;
others, like the intrepid lady cop, bit the balky machine until it yielded
to their commands.
“Give me about ten minutes,” she said. “I’ll meet you here.”
“Oh. Okay. Make yourself at home. Coffee? I suppose it’s
available somewhere, if you want it. No? Okay.”

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