Page 48 of Only the Devil
“Inside the building?”
“Mr. Sterling doesn’t want surveillance over employees.”
Convenient. “What about access control? Key cards, visitor logs?”
“The building entrance locks automatically after hours. During business hours, anyone can walk in.”
I don’t bother hiding my expression. “That's not security, that’s an open invitation.”
“I know it seems...lax. But Mr. Sterling values an open, trusting environment.”
Or he values being able to conduct business without creating a record of who comes and goes.
“Is there video surveillance in the lobby?”
“Yes. Owned by the building. Not us. I don’t think it’s actively monitored.”
“You mentioned a server facility off-site?”
“Yes, about twenty minutes north of here. I’d like you to assess the security there as well.”
“When’s the last time someone from your company visited the facility?”
“I... Honestly, I don’t know. That’s more Mr. Sterling’s area.”
Either she’s lying, or Sterling’s compartmentalizing information away from his human resources director. Both options raise red flags.
“I’ll need access codes, contact information for the facility manager, blueprints if you have them.”
“I’ll get you what I can.”
“One more thing—during my research, I saw references to international operations. Singapore office?”
Her face goes carefully blank. “That’s a separate entity. Not our concern.”
“But affiliated?”
“Loosely. Very loosely.” She stands abruptly. “I think that covers everything for now. Marta can show you to your office and get you set up with computer access.”
I remain seated.
“Ma’am, I want to be crystal clear about something. If there are threats you’re not telling me about—if someone gets hurt because I wasn’t given complete information—that’s on you, not me.”
Color drains from her face. “You know everything I know, Mr. Ryder.”
The fact that she’s using my last name tells me the conversation’s over, whether I’m satisfied or not.
“Alright then. I’ll get started on that security assessment.”
The “security office” turns out to be a converted storage room in the back of the lobby with a desk, a computer, and no window. Not exactly a command center, but it’ll do.
I spend the next hour walking the building systematically, noting every entrance, every blind spot, every potential vulnerability. The place is a security nightmare—multiple unlocked doors, an unmonitored stairwell that leads directly to the executive floor, and enough hiding spots to stage a small invasion.
If I had to guess, whoever moved the body used one of the unlocked doors on the far side of the building. Probably pulled a car right up to the building in the section of the street without traffic cam coverage.
By noon, I’ve identified eight ways someone could get into—or exit—the building undetected and at least six ways to get to Sterling’s office without passing through the main lobby.
The computer they’ve given me has internet access, but I’m sure it’s monitored. Every keystroke is probably logged, every website visited recorded. Standard procedure and useful for a company with something to hide.
