“Why am I here? Why did you arrest me like a common criminal?”

“Debbie Abbot.”

“Wait? What? Debbie Abbot?” Gleeson frowned. “I don’t understand. What about her?”

“She worked for you from August 17th until sometime in November…?”

Gleeson looked taken aback by the question. “Yes. I don’t remember exactly when she quit off the top of my head, but sometime in late November. What did she do?”

“And you never asked why she quit?”

His exhale was audible. “I didn’t get the chance. She emailed me her notice. Said she felt uncomfortable being alone with me, which I didn’t feel I could counter in any productive way except to send her the pay she was owed.”

They had that email.

A flicker of shame glimmered in Gleeson’s eyes as he caught Eban’s gaze then looked away.

“Why would she say that?” Signy asked. “That you made her feel uncomfortable?”

He clasped his hands. “I really don’t know.”

“Did you ever give her reason to be uncomfortable?”

“I did not.” He sat up straighter. Eban quietly did the same. “I realized considering my profession, that I might have done something to inadvertently upset her, but I always behaved professionally toward her. Her email came as a shock.”

“You never misinterpreted her behavior and maybe flirted with her innocently?”

He held his hand up, palm out in a ‘stop’ motion. “I didn’t flirt with her. I don’t consider flirting ‘professional’ behavior.”

“Did she ever flirt with you?”

He frowned. “No. Why don’t you track her down and ask her why she left and leave me the hell alone?”

Eban was good at reading people and this guy was making all the right responses for someone who had no idea what was going on. But Eban also knew that people with Antisocial Personality Disorder—psychopaths in old-school vernacular—knew how to fake the right responses. They just didn’t feel them.

“Did she reject your advances?” Signy asked.

Gleeson’s gaze narrowed. “I’m a married man. I love my wife. I don’t cheat.”

“I take it child pornography doesn’t count?” Signy presented him with a few images they’d downloaded from the man’s computer.

His mouth dropped open as he leaned forward. Blood drained from his face. “Where did you get that?”

“Your laptop.”

“That is not mine.”

The images they’d printed out were by far the tamest. Some of the material had turned Eban’s stomach and he thought he’d seen everything.

“We found thousands of images in a hidden folder on your hard drive,” Signy stated calmly.

Gleeson exchanged a look with his lawyer who wasn’t a fraction as smooth as Elliot Byrne. “I don’t know anything about that. Someone must have planted it.”

“Planted it?” Signy mirrored and Eban wanted to give her a high-five.

“Broke into my computer and downloaded those images. I would never…” He swallowed tightly and crossed his arms again.

“Never…?”

Eban held his breath as she let the silence ride.

“I would never look at child pornography.”

“What do you think should happen to people who do use these kinds of images for their own sexual gratification?” asked Signy.