Chapter Twenty Five

            David’s eyes scanned the pier as he searched for Robert Cosworth.  He was hoping that his five hour drive from Philadelphia wasn’t a waste of time and that the information in the police data base was accurate. Near the farthest point from the shore, David spotted a man in a floppy hat, a fishing vest, and sandals casting off the pier.

            “I wouldn’t have taken you for a fisherman, Robert.”

            “Hello, Detective.  What brings you to Virginia Beach?”

            “You brought me here or at least the questions that you can answer for me brought me here.”

            He reeled in his line and secured the hook to the cork handle of his rod. “Let’s get a cup of coffee.  I want to clear up a few things for you.”

            Cosworth who barely resembled the cowering toad who he assaulted at police headquarters years earlier.  This man was relaxed and confident, furthermore he displayed no fear whatsoever of David Armstrong.  They soon reached at outdoor café where they both ordered coffee and Cosworth ordered a hamburger.

            “Who are you?” Asked David.

            “I’m pretty much what you see detective.  I’m an Engineer, a husband, and at one time a father.  I also like to fish as you have seen.”             The confusion on David’s face was unmistakable.             “I’m sorry detective.  I’m not trying to make this more difficult or more confusing for you.  You simply haven’t asked the right questions.  I will answer every question you ask truthfully and directly.  I have nothing to hide.  However, there is one question I won’t answer.”

            “Okay.  What is your connection to Richland Laboratories and John Richland other than being an employee at one time?”

            “I have no relationship with John Richland except that he signed my paychecks for a few months.  I simply testified against him and convinced a jury that his firm, at his direction, replicated the DNA of innocent men and then incriminated those men by placing the DNA at crime scenes.”

            “But you didn’t work in the DNA replication portion of his business.  How did you know about the replication program?”

            “Everyone, well anyone who has an interest in that field knows that firms like Richland are doing work in Genetics and Bio-chemical Engineering.  They publish papers and John Richland regularly speaks at industry conferences.”

            “So why were you working there?”

            “To report to the police that Richland Industries was replicating the DNA of persons who were or had been involved in One Week Window investigations.”

            “Why?”

            “So that Richland Laboratories would be discredited and removed as an investigative team for One Week Window or any other similar show.”

            “To what end?”

            “To achieve exactly what has occurred.”

            The answers that Robert gave David was startled him because of their simplicity and his directness.

            “So who planted the DNA samples on the victims?”

            “I can’t answer that question because, as you full well know, it would incriminate another person.”

            David sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee.  Robert Cosworth didn’t seem like he had a care in this world as he waited patiently for David’s next question.

            “When you were in the police station that was an act?”

            “Yes, a necessary deception.  I’m sorry, I don’t like to lie or mislead.”

            David returned to his first question.  “Who are you?”

            “Do a little research detective.  My story is easily accessible.  You spend a lot of time investigating the victim and the criminals but you don’t find it very important to take a look at the witnesses.”

            “You don’t seem to be the organizing or mastermind sort of guy, although I could also be wrong about that.  Who organized the Richland downfall?”

            “I’m sorry David.  I lied.  There are two questions I can’t answer truthfully.”

            David was both jealous and confused by Robert Cosworth.  He was relishing his hamburger and enjoying the sun on his face, and then he would soon return to his fishing.  He seemed like he didn’t have a care in the world.

            “Can I contact you again if I have more questions?”

            “Of course.  You can find me on the pier most mornings and if not, let me give you my cell phone number so that you’re not inconvenienced.  By the way, I hear you enjoy fishing.”

            “How would you know that?  I haven’t had time to fish more than once or twice in the last ten years.”

            “The invitation is open if you ever feel like trying to hook a few.  I have enough equipment for the both of us.”