For the next several hours, Matt was at his desk. The paperwork involved was worse than it had been on earth. The contact chain data for Kossman and he dove into the documents like a dog going for a bone. He spent hours following Kossman’s signal. He traced and backtracked everyone that he met, luckily there weren’t many. Even so, there were too many random contacts, none of which coincided to any significant degree with anyone on the contact list for Marc Matthews. It was useless; on an isolated colony, everyone is going to encounter everyone occasionally.
Once they had a suspect, the collected data could be instrumental in getting an indictment, but looking through the glut of data was just giving Matt a massive headache. The gaps in information caused by the blackouts made the volumes of information he’d collected all but useless. He continued to pound his head into the data wall until his eyes started to de-focus.
At least on the contraband front, the situation was better. His smuggler was convicted. None of the judges bought into the defense theory that he’d planted the evidence, or at least didn’t have any confirmation to prove it if they did. The bursar was condemned and pending sentence
To reduce his sentence, the man turned on his friends. The man gave the department information on a docking bay’s night guard, who under interrogation implicated another man, Perry’s mystery man. Unfortunately, the guard couldn’t describe the man. Even though he’d met the stranger several times in the park, they always sat back to back on a double bench and hid their voices when they talked. He couldn’t provide any relative details. The guard was very obliging when it came to providing dates and times. Still, now they should be enough evidence to get that warrant. That should make Perry happy. One wall down.
At least one investigation was going well. Matt slumped back into his chair and looked at the clock on his computer. He’d been off duty for over two hours. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a sealed med packet, and pushed the pill through, popped it into his mouth and swallowed, chasing it down with cold coffee. As much as Matt hated cold coffee, he’d been fighting to control his emotions a bit too much lately. If he couldn’t continue to keep them under control himself, then he’d just have to let the meds do it.
After several more minutes involved in a futile staring contest with his display, Matt rose and grabbed his jacket. He needed to get out and get some “fresh’ air. The park shouldn’t be too crowded, he thought. A walk always might help clear his mind.