Rising Sun: A Novel by Michael Crichton

back to Cole and said, “Now then, Mr. Cole. You were telling me that a supervisor took over for you. At what time was that?”
    “Eight-fifteen.”
    “And you didn’t know him?”
    “No.”
    “And before that time, while you were on duty, were you taping from the video cameras?”
    “Sure. The security office always tapes from the cameras.”
    “And did the supervisor remove the tapes?”
    “Remove them? I don’t think so. The tapes are still there, as far as I know.”
    He looked at us in a puzzled way.
    “You fellows are interested in the tapes?”
    “Yes,” Connor said.
    “Because I never paid much attention to the tapes. I was interested in the cameras.”
    “How’s that?”
    “They were getting the building ready for the big party, and there were lots of last-minute details. But you still had to wonder why they pulled so many security cameras off other parts of the building and put them up on that floor.”
    I said, “They what?”
    “Those cameras weren’t on the forty-sixth floor yesterday morning,” Cole said. “They were scattered all around the building. Somebody moved them during the day. They’re easy to move, you know, because there’s no wires attached.”
    “The cameras have no wires?”
    “No. It’s all cellular transmission inside the building itself. Built that way. That’s why they don’t have audio: they can’t transmit full bandwidth on cellular. So they just send an image. But they can move those cameras around to suit their purposes. See whatever they want to see. You didn’t know that?”
    “No,” I said.
    “I’m surprised nobody told you. It’s one of the features of the building they’re most proud of.” Cole drank his beer. “Only question I have is why somebody would take five cameras and install them on the floor
above
the party. ’Cause there’s no security reason. You can lock off the elevators above a certain floor. So for security, you’d want your cameras on the floors below the party. Not above.”
    “But the elevators weren’t locked off.”
    “No. I thought that was kind of unusual, myself.” He looked at the Japanese across the room. “I got to be going soon,” he said.
    “Well,” Connor said. “You’ve been very helpful, Mr. Cole. We may want to question you again—”
    “I’ll write down my phone number for you,” Cole said, scribbling on a bar napkin.
    “And your address?”
    “Yeah, right. But actually, I’m going out of town for a few days. My mother’s been feeling sick, and she asked me to take her down there to Mexico for a few days. Probably go this weekend.”
    “Long trip?”
    “Week or so. I got vacation days coming up, it seems like a good time to take it.”
    “Sure,” Connor said. “I can see how it would. Thanks again for your help.” He shook hands with Cole, and punched him lightly on the shoulder. “And you take care of
your
health.”
    “Oh, I will.”
    “Stop drinking, and have a safe drive home.” He paused. “Or wherever you may decide to go tonight, instead.”
    Cole nodded. “I think you’re right. That’s not a bad idea.”
    “I know I’m right.”
    Cole shook my hand. Connor was heading out the door. Cole said, “I don’t know why you guys are bothering.”
    “With the tapes?”
    “With the Japanese. What can you do? They’re ahead of us every step of the way. And they have the big guys in their pocket. We can’t beat ’em now. You two guys’ll never beat ’em. They’re just too good.”
    Outside, beneath the crackling neon sign, Connor said, “Come on, time is wasting.”
    We got in the car. He handed me the bar napkin. On it was scrawled in block letters:
    THEY STOLE THE TAPES
    “Let’s get going,” Connor said.
    I started the car.

The eleven o’clock news was finished for the night, and the newsroom was nearly deserted. Connor and I went down the hall to the sound stage where the
Action News
set was still lit up.
    On the set, the evening broadcast was being replayed