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keep you scared. Don’t worry about that!” I was saying it but wasn't sure whether I believed it. “You do have a lawyer, right?”
    “Oh, of course. It’s Teresa, you met her at the party.” Teresa – I remembered her fashionable dress and well-put-together appearance. I was told then that she was a lawyer – apparently a criminal lawyer. “I called her and she agreed to help out. She was here when they talked to me.”
    “Is there anything I could do to help?”
    It sounded like Rita was blowing her nose on the phone. I realized it was probably a sob.
    When she swallowed, she said. “Could you please find out who did it?”

 
     
    6 
    “Finding the real killer would be a huge relief, in light of everything. I'm kidding, of course.” She hastened to add.
     
    I didn't know what to say. I had always enjoyed reading detective novels and watching murder mysteries on TV. Now I was involved in one, however tangentially. It wasn't quite “a body in the library”, instead it was a body in the office – or out of the office, as the case may be, but it did have certain literary and genre charm.
     
    My real-life work was finding the bad guys of the computer world and stopping them from breaking into computer systems. This was perhaps not that different. And my brain was already occupied with the idea, wanting to find out what happened and who the culprit was. Still, agreeing to do it, trying to actually investigate a murder would be a big step.
     
    As I was thinking all that, Rita said “For the record, I didn't do it.” Not that I really thought her to be the killer, but hearing her say this helped break my hesitation.
    “Well, I will try to help out in whatever way I can. I'd like to find out who did it.”
    “Thanks. I mean it. Your logical engineering mind should be able to remove any trace of suspicion from me in to time at all.”
    “Well, thanks for your vote of confidence.” I was now feeling embarrassed by her apparent faith in me, even though she was probably very stressed and grasping at straws.
     
    So now I had a murder to get to the bottom of; and, I imagined, a friend who was relying on me to clear her name.  I was already thinking myself a sort of a knight in shiny armor. It was just like in books – I would solve everything and neatly explain it all. I allowed myself a moment to bask in the thoughts of riding to Rita's rescue and setting everything right.
     
    Then I opened my eyes, realized that no shiny armor was hanging in closet just yet, and jumped right in with questions.
    “Speaking of engineering – the police mentioned to me the security footage outside. Are there security cameras inside, too?”
    “Yes, there are, in some hallways. The police took all footage.”
    “Then finding out who did it might be just a matter of reviewing it? It should be case-closed then, right?” It seemed to me it was all plain sailing from here.
    “No. George turned the security camera in the office off himself before the party, because he was getting some stuff out of the safe, and he didn't want that showing up on the surveillance footage for the security company to see. There is no footage from the office. And I don't think you can see the entire hallway leading to the office on the hallway camera – it doesn't show you the office door, and you can't tell between people going to George's office, my office, or the upstairs hall bathroom.”
    So much for plain sailing. The video surveillance wasn't going to be of much use.
    “Were there any helpful fingerprints found, do you know?”
    “I wouldn't expect it. George and I both opened the office door when we gave the tour of the house several times during the party. And other people would have gone in there since we bought the house – John, Roger, even Kevin. So likely lots of fingerprints on the door handle.”
    “Who do you think might have done it? Do you have any suspicions?” I thought this might be a sensitive question to ask