Rising Sun by Michael Crichton

Author:Michael Crichton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Detective, Los Angeles (Calif.), Police Procedural, Detective and mystery stories, Mystery & Detective, Industries, Police - California - Los Angeles, Fiction - Mystery, Business intelligence, Fiction, Science Fiction, Science Fiction - General, Technological, Mystery & Detective - Police Procedural, General, Japanese - California - Los Angeles, Corporations
ISBN: 9780345418968
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 1997-06-22T23:00:00+00:00

She said,

“Does this have something to do with the murder last night?”

“Yes. You know about that?”

She shrugged.

“I saw it on the news. The killer died in a car crash?”

“That’s right,” I said. er profile of her face She was turned away. The three-quart was strikingly beautiful, the high curve of her cheekbone. I thought of what a playboy Eddie Sakamura was known to be.

I said,

“Did you know him?”

“No,” she said. After a moment she added,

“He was Japanese.”

Another moment of awkwardness descended on our little group. There was something that both Theresa and Sanders seemed to know that I did not. But I didn’t know how to ask. So I watched the video.

Once again, I saw the sunlight moving across the floor.

Then the room lights came up as the office personnel thinned. Now the floor was empty. And then, at high speed, Cheryl Austin appeared, followed by the man. They kissed passionately.

“Ah ha,” Sanders said.

“Is this it?”

“Yes.”

He frowned as he watched the action progress.

“You mean the murder is recorded? “ “Yes,” I said.

“On multiple cameras.”

“You’re kidding.”

Sanders fell silent, watching events proceed. With the streaky high-speed image, it was difficult to see more than the basic events. The two people moving to the conference room. The sudden struggle.

Forcing her back on the table.

Stepping away suddenly. Leaving the room in haste.

Nobody spoke. We all watched the tape.

I glanced at Theresa. Her face was blank. The image was reflected in her glasses.

Eddie passed the mirror, and went into the dark passageway. The tape ran on for a few more seconds, and then the cassette popped out.

“That’s one. You say there are multiple cameras? How many all together?”

“Five, I think,” I said.

She marked the first cassette with a stick-on label. She started the second tape in the machine, and began another high-speed duplication.

I said,

“These copies are exact?”

“Oh, yes.”

“So they’re legal?”

Sanders frowned.

“Legal in what sense?”

“Well, as evidence, in a court of law-“ “Oh, no,” Sanders said.

“These tapes would never be admissible in a court of law.”

“But if they’re exact copies-“ “It’s nothing to do with that. All forms of photographic evidence including video, are no longer admissible in court.”

“I haven’t heard that,” I said.

“It hasn’t happened yet,” Sanders said.

“The case law isn’t entirely clear. But it’s coming. All photographs are suspect these days. Because now, with digital systems, they can be changed perfectly. Perfectly. And that’s something new. Remember years ago, how the Russians would remove politicians from photographs of their May Day line ups? it was always a crude cut-and-paste job-and you could always see that something had been done. There was a funny space between the shoulders of the remaining people. Or a discoloration on the back wall. Or you could see the brush-strokes of the retoucher who tried to smooth over the damage. But anyway, you could see it-fairly easily. You could see the picture had been altered. The whole business was laughable.”

“I remember,” I said.

“Photographs always had integrity precisely because they were impossible to change. So we considered photographs to represent reality.

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