The Max Effect. 1

The Files.

Max knew that even though she had Thomas's entry card to the record department, she couldn't just waltz in. Entry into that room was audited. Entry was gained by a request from an officer counter-signed by a supervisor. The records department was always busy, and it wasn't long until an officer came down with an authorised request slip.

"Oh, hi Max, what are you doing down here? Where is Thomas?" quizzed the Officer.

"Hi, Frank. I'm just covering. Dirtbag Thomas has been caught taking photos of the new female recruits." replied Max.

"How? asked Frank.

"They are looking into it, but I think he used the vent" Max pointed up to a vent cover.

"Scumbag. I'm glad they have caught him."

"Yep, he was a disgusting excuse for a man, a letchy, voyeuristic, touchy creep", replied Max.

"That's what I love about you, Max, straight to the point!" Frank smiled.

Getting the files for Frank would allow Max the justified reason she needed to enter the room. But Max needed to think of another way she could enter the secure records department without time restraints. Max entered the secure room, looking for Franks's files. Max was quickly scanning up and down the rows, looking for her file and Franks. Max found Frank's file pretty quickly: beginners luck. The cardboard box file contained everything to do with an investigation, including minor bagged evidence in tamper-proof bags. The larger evidence was kept elsewhere. Max followed the row towards the end of the room. She was out of sight. There were no cameras in the room due to it being listed historically. At the end of the row, leaning against the wall, Max spotted the old door to the room. A heavy oak door that had been replaced for a pointless spend it or lose it a budget directive. The door itself wasn't special; It was slightly heavier than usual as it was a fire-resistant door. It also had the old magnetic lock on it.

Essentially, it was no different from the new door which had been fitted. A swipe card would release the magnet, and the card would record the entry on the computer. Max had an idea which might work. It would buy her time and allow her to enter as she wanted unrecorded.

Max thought it might be possible to use the old magnet to trick the computer into thinking the door was shut when, in fact, it remained open. The sensor connected to the computer was on the frame, not the door, so Max figured the computer would assume the door was closed if a magnet was connected. It might just work. Max went over to the old wooden door. On the side was the magnet fixing, about six inches long and held in by two screws. Max didn't have a screwdriver. She hunted around her belt but realised her utility tool was still in her rucksack in the police car. Max put her hand on the magnet and pushed with all her might. There was a slight cracking of the wood straining against her strength, but it didn't move enough for Max to get a better grip. Max needed to lever it off the door somehow and couldn't kick the door as it would make too much noise.

"Are you okay in there, Max?" Shouted Frank-not used to the slower service.

"Cut me some slack, Frank" shouted Max

"Yeah, sorry, Max, I gotta be in court." Replied Frank.

"You should have come earlier then. Just be patient! "Snapped Max.

Frank knew he shouldn't push Max any further.

Max continued to look around the records room for something she could lever the magnet off the door with, and she could only find flimsy metal bookend-type supports. Max went over to the heavy oak door and lifted it, placing it on the floor with the magnet lock facing upwards. She aligned her heel with the raised part of the lock and gave a swift backwards kick, coughingbtibtryband mask the noise. Her second kick managed to dislodge and bend one of the screws. Max could now get a bit of a grip on the lock; digging her fingers into the narrow gap which had now been created, Max started to pull the lock away from the door. Max's forearm expanded, and her bicep flexed as her muscles awakened; pulling upwards, her strong forearm was forcing the screw out of the wood. The first screw was now bent and mangled, but the other screw needed a little more work. After pushing and pulling against the bracket, Max could get her hand fully around the lock and use more force. Max gripped even tighter and pulled upwards. The wood where the screw was sitting began to crack, and then the low-grade aluminium frame the magnet sat on snapped. Max broke it.

"Shit!" said Max a little too loudly

"Are you okay back there, Max? Do you need some help?"

"It's ok, Yeah, I found your box, Now coming." Max had just finished with the door.

She picked the door off the floor, turning it around to hide the damage.  She put the broken lock in her pocket and dusted herself down before taking the files to the waiting officer. On her way, she took out her notepad pad, ready to drop, and kept the door open; she would have a few seconds before an alarm would go off.
Max passed the door; she dropped her notebook exactly where it needed to be, just enough to stop it from closing. Frank didn't see a thing, collected his box and went off. Max quickly returned to the door and put the broken lock against it, but it didn't connect and just dropped to the floor. The timer for the alarm was about to run out.

Max needed the other magnet. She sprinted as fast as she could, running back to the end of the records room. She spun the heavy door around. Max unleashed a powerful kick at the lock. The door was leaning against the wall at an angle ricocheted off the wall. Her powerful kick managed to do quite a bit of damage, splitting the wood near the lock. Max estimated that she had about 10 seconds left before the alarm went off. Max grabbed the remaining part of the lock, ripping it from the door, and sprinted back as fast as she could. Opening the door fully, she presented the lock she had just ripped out of solid oak; there was a nice clunky marrying sound as the old magnet joined the new; the timer had about one second left. Max leant on the counter, regaining her breath, her head in her hands. Talk about cutting it fine.

Once Frank had left, Max had time to go back to the records room and looked through the rows of files without being recorded on the computer.  Max made her way into the rows of boxes, trying to figure out what indexing system had been used; it didn't make much sense. But luck appeared to be on Max's side; in the fourth row, she went down. She looked up towards the top shelf and saw the name Lassie and, in black capitals, the word unsolved written across it. Max stood on tiptoes to reach the box, blowing off some of the dust as the box came down. Some things would be difficult to see, but Max had to find out if she was right about the red car.

Tears came to Max's eyes as she tried to hurry past the crime scene photographs. She didn't want to see Lassie like this. Max was used to scanning reports to find critical information quickly. But reports were missing. The whole thing stunk of a cover-up, which generally meant money and someone with a lot of influence were involved. Maybe it was an oversight, or whoever arranged the cover-up didn't expect a criminal suspected of murder would later on claim their car back from the pound. Maybe they were a little too cocky for their excellent because Max now had linked the same red car with its distinctive markings with a transparent licence plate from one of the photos. Max used didn't care about getting caught. She used Thomas' swipe card to gain entry to the police system. Inputting the licence plate, a result came up. The results showed that a driver's licence was used when collecting the car. Max then cross-referenced those details with the registered keeper of the vehicle. Bingo.. different names but the same address. It was a start.