“It’s hard to believe one of them is a murderer,” Kevin Wallace said. “I … we … both know each of them.” He paused. “Pretty well, I thought.”
Security Director Juanita Alvarez looked thoughtful. “I wonder.”
“Maybe you did it, Kevin.”
“Me?” questioned the security supervisor.
“Could be. I remember your resume when you applied for this job. You were a butler once, isn’t that right?” but Juanita couldn’t keep a straight face.
Sales Manager Vincent Maserati sat on an Oswald’s Office Supplies Comfort Plus chair in his corner office. Rumored to become Oswald’s next CEO, the slick, cocksure forty-something sat slumped over his desk, strangled. Juanita Alvarez shook her head. She stared at Security Supervisor Wallace. “I guess we can put the second-floor paperclip pilferer on the back burner. Let’s go back in and speak to the sales force again. One of them did this. Each swore no one else entered the east wing this morning. The door automatically locks. I checked it. It’s working fine. Other than the so-called ‘Fine Four’ and Maserati, no one came or went. Of course, video from the outside camera will confirm that.” Alvarez shook her head. “Too bad old man Oswald didn’t spring for inside cameras. We could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble.”