Carson cleared his throat. "Fourteen years."
"And your role is court clerk, correct?"
"Yes."
"In that role, do you interact with the janitorial staff?"
"Occasionally."
"'Occasionally'?" Isaac repeated the word the way a doctor repeats a symptom, noting it, filing it. "You interact with my father, Elijah Ingram, occasionally?"
Carson shifted. "Yes."
"Mr. Carson, in your written statement to police, you said you witnessed my father carrying boxes from the IT room at approximately 11:30 p.m. on March 14th. Is that correct?"
"That's what I saw."
"And the IT room is located on the second floor, east wing of this building?"
"Yes."
"You're certain about that?"
Carson's jaw tightened. "Second floor, east wing. I know where the IT room is."
"Good." Isaac flipped a page on his legal pad. "Mr. Carson, can you tell the court what floor my father was assigned to clean on the night of March 14th?"
Silence.