THE THREE TOOK THE DOCUMENTS brought by Tyson Galloway and began to search through the pages, looking for the employees assigned to clean the room at the time before the meeting. The room in question had been visited by three cleaning employees the previous morning, two women and one man. According to the records, the two women present had different hair styles, one black and the other blond.
— We have our first suspect! — Floyd Kenagan exclaimed.
— We can't confirm anything yet, the temporary employee could be someone else in disguise, but since this is all we have on hand, it's best to follow this line — Greg said.
— This is Allison Bates — Tyson Galloway said — According to the records, her shift ended at eight in the morning.
— Did she really leave at the correct time? — Tyson glanced at the documents in his hands for a moment and replied:
— I think this will make her our main suspect!
— Why? — Kenagan asked.
— Her departure is recorded at twelve twenty-three.
— Then we're on the right track! — celebrated Floyd Kenagan.
Or maybe we're falling into a trap... — thought Gregory Evans, who said:
— Let's question her first before we make any hasty decisions.
MINUTES LATER, TWO AGENTS knocked on the door of Allison Bates' house, on the other side of the city. Seeing the two men dressed identically in black at her door, she asked:
—How can I help you?
—Miss—one of them replied, calm but resolute. —We need you to come with us, we have some questions to clarify.
ALLISON BATES CRIED PROFESSIVELY. Her reaction was so natural that Gregory Evans and the others had a hard time believing that she could have done something real, even after gathering such damning records about her in the recordings.
When she arrived in the room, she showed undeniable surprise when she saw the polygraph on the table. The modern equipment monitored the poor woman's every reaction, which increasingly convinced the investigators of her innocence, as she appeared completely fragile and seemed to have no idea what was happening to her. Pneumographs surrounded her body to check her breathing, along with a blood pressure gauge on her arm and a set of galvanometers attached to her fingers, which measured the moisture in her skin. All of this ended up in a computer that analyzed and synchronized all the data, indicating the moments when she reacted most nervously to the questions being asked. Accompanied by a specialist examiner, Gregory Evans asked the cleaning lady questions, who tried to answer in tears. Floyd and Tyson watched from the other side of the glass wall and everything was recorded. With rapid questions and without pauses, the agent tried to extract some proof that she knew something:
— What's your name?
— Allison Bates...
— Were you here in the early hours of yesterday?
— Yes, I was...
— Did you plant bugs in the meeting room?!
— N— no! I d—n— Have you had breakfast, Allison?
— Yes.
— Have you ever had an affair with your coworker?
— No! I never have...
— How many bugs did you put in the room?
— None...
— Do you have children?
— Yes, I have two children.
— State your full name.
— Allison A. Bates...
— Have you ever felt attracted to someone who is married, Allison?
— No, no!
— Who told you to plant the bugs?
— I didn't...
— How many children do you have?
— ... two!
— Have you ever cheated on your husband, Allison?
— No!! Never!
— How many years have you worked here?
— Eight.
— Why did you come back to the room after the meeting?
She couldn't handle the pressure of so many blunt questions and burst into tears, her hands covering her face, even though she was surrounded by so many analytical tools.
Gregory Evans couldn't continue, he felt sorry for her. Deep down, she considered what she was doing to be terribly embarrassing and abusive...
But it was necessary...
Whether she was innocent, a simple apology would not erase the trauma she had been through, whether she was guilty, perhaps not even that would be enough to accuse her, but it was the card she was holding. And the game had to go on.