The Last Campaign (The Near-Earth Mysteries)

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The Last Campaign (The Near-Earth Mysteries) Page 18

by Martin L Shoemaker


  But I had to know. “Nick, why didn’t you tell me?”

  Another man might have lied to me, told me it was Gale’s idea to cite the Compact and claim Aldrin citizenship, even though it was such an obvious Nick move. Loopholes were his specialty. But where another man might have denied it, Nick could not even consider that. He might not respect arbitrary rules, but he was obsessed with the truth.

  Instead he simply answered, “I didn’t know if it would work. There was no sense getting in a fight with you if Gale was going to say no. Or Carver. I wanted to . . .”

  “You wanted to put off the fight in case it was unnecessary.” I lowered my voice. “And now we are here, where we cannot fight about it.”

  “We’re here so I can take my citizen into custody.”

  “That is legalistic nonsense, Nick. You are not a citizen of Aldrin City. And besides, what about Inspector Park’s order? You are not to have any position of authority in Aldrin City.”

  “Carver consulted Park,” Nick said. “He can designate anyone he wants as his representative; it doesn’t have to be a citizen as long as he authorizes my actions. Which he does. And Park concurs that a position as representative is not a position of authority and is not in Aldrin City. She is satisfied that her order has not been violated.”

  “But why, Nick? What do you hope to accomplish?”

  “To get justice for my citizen,” he said. Then he checked his comm. “And they should be bringing him around soon.”

  There was nothing I could say after that, so we stood in silence. Nick had some sort of plan—of that I was sure. But I could not see what it was. As his wife, I might ask what it was in the privacy of our home; but not as the police chief, not in public.

  There was little we could say after that without getting into things that should be kept private. We sat and waited until a guard appeared, with Gale clanking behind her. Another guard stood behind him, and Gale was cuffed.

  “You idiots,” Nick said. “He’s a weak old man in an assist suit. You two are young and strong in armor with weapons. Why do you need him cuffed?”

  “Because this is a delicate case,” Hogan said, stepping into the doorway. The rear guard made room for him. “Mr. Aames, I’m not taking any chances that a prisoner this important escapes or gets injured trying to escape while he’s in my custody.”

  Nick shook his head. “I don’t see what’s so important about an old spacer mixed up in a petty crime.”

  Hogan looked at me. “If you don’t, sir, I’m sure you’re the only one who doesn’t. This case . . . This man is a political hand grenade right now. Too many eyes are watching.” He glared at Nick. “I know you were never too concerned about higher-ups, civilian authorities, and the media. But look what that did to your career.”

  Nick’s face was stony as he answered, “I have no complaints. And I never let the journos tell me how to do my job.”

  I held up my hand. “That will do, gentlemen. We have business to take care of. Let us not waste time with irrelevant matters like this. We do not need this pissing match.”

  “You’re right, ma’am,” Hogan said. “My apologies. Other concerns are weighing on me. You understand.”

  I did understand. I understood what he had said earlier about not being able to speak openly without being recorded anywhere in the fort. So he could not talk about any pressures he might be under, but I could guess. “Understood,” I answered. I expected no apology from Nick. By his standards, he had done nothing wrong, simply spoken the truth. That was never something he would apologize for. So I continued, “How do we proceed? I know the procedure for extradition from the Initiative to Maxwell City, and vice versa; but I do not know how this proceeds, or what I am doing here.”

  At that, Gale spoke up. “What is she doing here? I didn’t ask for her.”

  “I did,” Nick said. “I have to improvise procedures a bit here, since I am the only representative Aldrin City has on Mars right now. You might say I’m the ambassador and the embassy staff and the security all rolled into one. So I needed a little help.”

  “But . . .” Gale looked at me, then looked at the floor and went quiet.

  Nick turned back to Hogan. “Chief Hogan, I have a receipt to acknowledge that you have transferred custody of Horace Gale of Aldrin City to me.” He pushed it to Hogan’s comm. “Is that acceptable?”

  Hogan looked at his comm and signed it. “It is acceptable,” he said. “And here’s my acknowledgment.” He pushed it back to Nick’s comm. “Nicolau Aames, you are now responsible for the prisoner Horace Gale, citizen of Aldrin City. I’ll have an escort lead you back to the port.”

  Then without explanation, Hogan made another push on his comm. I felt a slight buzz in my wrist, indicating a received message; but I had a hunch I should not look at it. Hogan wanted it kept quiet.

  And quiet we were as the escort led us back out through the stockade. She did not stop there, continuing with us all the way out to the main gate to the port. Then she bid us good day as she cycled the gate open, and we walked through.

  I stopped outside at the guard post, and I gave them my receipt. They brought me my sidearm. I smothered a laugh when I saw that they brought Nick’s as well. He had less excuse, no official authority to give them a reason to ignore his being armed. But he was Nick, a force to be reckoned with. And who knows? Maybe being a founder carried weight even here among the guards.

  As we rode the slidewalk back to Customs, I took the chance to examine the message on my comm. It was a simple security code, with no explanation. But I could guess. I ignored it all the way through Customs; but once on the other side, I walked over to the anteroom door, and I punched in the code. It slid open, and we stepped inside.

  The door closed and locked behind us, no doubt a function of the particular code I had used. I sat behind the desk, and Nick and Gale sat across from me. I tapped my comm off and Nick did the same as well. “This room is secure,” I said. “We are not being recorded.”

  Nick looked around. “Hogan told you that?”

  I nodded. “And I trust him. He served under me for years, Nick. He is a good man.”

  Nick did not relax. “I’d prefer to check for myself,” he said.

  “Go ahead,” I answered. “I would not expect anything less.”

  Gale and I sat in silence while Nick scanned the room. Gale glared at me from time to time, but I kept my expression blank. Nick eyed every inch, every corner of the room, including lighting and ventilation. He pulled out electronic and optical scanners as well. That made sense. No doubt he had wanted someplace that he could talk to Gale securely, so he had come prepared to scan an area.

  Finally, Nick sat down. “If we keep it low, so no one can listen through the door, we should be okay.”

  “Good,” I said. “Now tell me what the hell is going on.” At least I said it in a low voice.

  “You can’t tell her anything, Nick,” Gale said.

  Nick sighed. “Gale, she’s my wife, and I trust her. You can’t expect me to keep secrets from her.”

  Gale shook his head. “She works for them.”

  “The city?” I asked.

  “No,” Gale said. “The . . . No.”

  Nick turned to me. “I’m sorry, Rosie. My hands are tied. I made a promise to represent him.”

  I shook my head. “That is not how this works, Nick,” I said. “I know the Compact as well as you do. You do not represent him, you represent Aldrin City. Governor Carver and all the citizens who elected him. And their courts and their legal system. You are not his lawyer, you are his investigator and his judge.”

  “I’m . . . all of the above. I am Aldrin City for the purposes of this case. And that puts me in a complicated situation. I have to represent his interests and the city’s and balance when they’re in conflict.”

  I looked at Gale. “And you trust him to do that?”

  Gale looked up, bags under his eyes, but also with a sense of . . . relaxation? Deliverance? “No
one better,” he answered.

  I had to agree with that. Nick could sometimes bend the rules for his purposes, but his purposes were always about being right, doing the right thing. His psych profile said he was obsessed about it. Driven by it.

  Of course I knew what was in his confidential psych profile because I wasn’t so obsessed about it. When his profile had come up in the course of one of the many investigations he had faced in his career, I had gotten a chance to look at it. I had been weak, but it was important. I needed to know I could trust him.

  Like Gale trusted him.

  And so I should trust him now. “All right, Gale.” I thought of telling him exactly what I thought about him: that I still did not trust him, that I found his change of heart to be suspect. But there was enough hostility in the room already. “You have cited the Compact, and you are now in the charge of your declared jurisdiction. That is all proper according to procedure.” I raised an eyebrow at Nick. “It will be his responsibility to keep you in custody or let you out as he sees fit, to investigate any crimes you may be suspected of, to try you if charged, and to mete out punishment as appropriate. You have trusted yourself to this system . . . this man. And it was probably a smart move. I have no authority at this point, nothing I can compel you to do or not do. But I can ask you to cooperate in my ongoing criminal investigation where you might be . . . a material witness, let us say.” Then I paused, leaned forward, and stared into his eyes. “And if you do, I can offer to testify to your cooperation before the person who has jurisdiction over you, and intercede to the degree that I can to see that you get favorable treatment and a light sentence if appropriate.”

  Gale looked at Nick. “Can she do that?”

  Nick smiled at me. “There’s no one else who can.”

  I smiled back at both of them. “I can.”

  21. THE LONG DAY CONTINUES

  As soon as we were inside our apartment, I turned to Nick. “I am not happy about this, Nico.”

  “It’s not about what makes you happy. It’s about doing the right thing in a complex maze of opposing forces.”

  We were alone at last. With a line of credit from Carver, Nick had rented an apartment farther down India Tube and had declared it to be the Aldrin City embassy. It was only minimally furnished, but Gale would have a bed and food and water.

  But he would not have the access key code to his own lock. Nick had conceded that much. Gale was under house arrest in the embassy.

  I stared at the wall in the rough direction of Gale. “Space it! What does he want? I promised him cooperation. I know there is no love lost between us, but why can’t he trust me? You vouched for me.” Nick paused, and I could see he was struggling with how to answer. “Out with it, Nick.”

  “I have to think carefully before I answer, ma’am, so that my citizen’s rights aren’t violated unintentionally.” He paused again, and then answered, “I think I can make him trust you, but not your bosses.”

  My eyes widened at that. “He does not trust Anthony?”

  Nick shook his head. “He doesn’t trust Anthony’s bosses.”

  “Anthony is elected by the people.”

  “Agreed,” Nick said. “And you trust him. Certainly I trust him to be his own man and to do what he thinks is right. He proved that to me long ago.” He shook his head. “But not everyone can see that. They assume that Anthony answers to his party bosses.”

  I gasped. “Gale is afraid of the Libertists?”

  Nick raised his hand. “I never said that. I never said what Gale thinks at all. I merely pointed out what some people believe. What conclusions you might draw from that are beyond my control. I gave you some facts and some impressions. But you don’t guess.”

  “I investigate,” I answered. “And you are not guessing whether any of these impressions might be accurate or not. Whether there might be any reason for someone to be fearful.”

  “I’m not guessing,” Nick agreed. “But I am investigating. You have my word on that.”

  “And if you find anything in your investigation that bears on the safety and security of Maxwell City and the proper performance of my job, I hope that you will see fit to share it.”

  Nick nodded. “I will do my best, ma’am. As ambassador of Aldrin City, I have a responsibility to cooperate with local law enforcement as much as my other responsibilities allow. I’ll share with you what I can, ma’am.”

  “Thank you . . . Ambassador.”

  I thought Nick was done; but then he added, “And Rosie . . . keep your eyes open.”

  I left the apartment and headed back toward my office. Between courts and media and prisoner transfer, I had done practically no actual police work today. Yes, that was all part of my job, but not the most important part. Vile had been carrying the load for long enough, and it was time for me to get back in charge.

  The TO actually called for two deputy chiefs: one for second shift, one for third. Anthony and I had not even had time to discuss filling the third-shift slot. It felt like events were moving faster than we could possibly keep up. I knew from my days in the Admiralty that that was when mistakes happen. People think they can handle it, think they can keep pace, and do not see what they are missing.

  My impulse in that sort of situation is almost the opposite: I slow down. I double-check everything. I fear those mistakes and how they can cascade. In an emergency, moving too slowly can be deadly; but my experience taught me that most emergencies are nothing of the kind, and you can figure that out if you take time to catch your breath.

  So before I reached the office, I stopped for a quick bite. Not at Zeb’s—I did not want to be seen there, and maybe drawn into a discussion. Instead, I went three doors down to Harrigan’s, a small coffee shop with pastries and real coffee. Far too expensive for me to indulge often, but that day I needed it. As I sipped the dark brew, I could feel my muscles loosening. This small indulgence took me back to my hometown, made me feel fresh again. It gave me the strength to look over the day; and I needed the strength, because the day seemed pretty much a disaster in retrospect. The court session had gone as well as I could hope, but had taken too long. I could have gotten work done instead. And the interviews. I cringed at the thought of the interviews and how Rockford may have edited her stream to make things even worse by now. And then Gale and Nick . . .

  I would not say I was still angry with Nick, but I was troubled. I understood his arguments, and they made logical sense, but I did not have to like them. There is a difference between private and secret. Nick was a very private man, and I felt special because he let me see inside his private world like perhaps no one has since his Grandma Ruth. When he lost her at such a young age, he had started putting up walls that kept people out, anyone he did not trust. And he did not trust many people at all. So to be let inside those walls, one after another, was a show of trust and faith that touched me inside so deeply that it overwhelmed me sometimes.

  But secrets? Those were someone else’s confidences. Those were different. And Nick could be trusted with those. He had been in the service long enough, he understood classified and secret information. He could cite the rules. And the same for privileged information. Gale had made an excellent choice there. Nick would be zealous in protecting his secrets and his rights.

  But I could not shake the feeling that some of these secrets were things I needed to know. Things that might affect my work.

  I sighed. I was taking it personally, because it was my husband. Again, I knew better rationally. Attorney–client privilege was recognized by every jurisdiction in the Compact, to one degree or another. Sometimes an attorney had information gained through privilege that might have bearing on a case. Or on public safety, even. Attorneys were tasked with weighing the ethical balance of rights versus safety. It was never an easy dilemma, but that was part of their job. That was the role that Nick was in now; and I trusted he would evaluate any conflict that came up, apply good ethical judgment, and act appropriately.

  But I d
id not have to like it. He was my husband.

  Refreshed from my coffee, I returned to the office. Ammon and Wagner were inside, along with the desk sergeant. Looking in my office, I saw Monè instead of Vile. “Where is Vile?” I asked. Monè stood, snapping to attention. “At ease, Monè,” I said. “It has been too long a day for that. But where is she?”

  “She’s in arraignment court, ma’am. We made the last of the arrests for this wave, and Magistrate Montgomery hinted—”

  “Hinted?”

  Monè smiled. “Suggested, you might say, that the sooner we arraigned, the faster we would arraign. Process the suspects before they had time to mount yet more challenges.”

  “Probably wise,” I said.

  “Vile and I agreed,” Monè said. “Somebody had to be there for the arraignment; and since I’m not the deputy chief, and you were occupied, that meant Vile. I told her I could handle the assignments here.”

  I did not miss the hint. “You would like to be deputy chief, wouldn’t you, Monè?”

  “I would not object, ma’am.”

  “Good.” I clapped his shoulder. “I promise nothing, Monè. It is too soon. We have had enough changes here. I need to see how the department operates in the current structure.”

  “But you’re not ruling me out?”

  “But I am not ruling you out. And your honesty is a point in your favor.” Then I thought about Gale’s concerns about the Libertists, and I wondered if there was any validity there. “We need all the honesty we can get.”

  I looked over Monè’s work, and all of the reports coming from the lieutenants and the patrol officers. There were glitches here and there, items that had not been properly followed up on. Simple human error, but they could do better. I pointed them out, and I made notes for additional training that would help in the future.

 

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