Hennig paled.
“T-treason… ag-against the, the Throne?” he echoed, his voice barely audible. “Like, against the Emperor that done bombed th’ Headquarters building, an’ blew up th’ Council?”
“The same.”
“Is… is he gonna kill me, too?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“What, um, what ‘f I, um, turn state’s evidence?”
“Hush, Joe,” Chase said. “Were you read your rights?”
“Um, uh-huh.”
“Good. Inspector Demetrius,” Chase directed his statement to the other man, “we have nothing to say to you at this time.”
“Very well,” Demetrius said. “Perhaps you’d like to see the evidence?”
“Please.”
“Good. Mr. Hennig, you will see one VR channel has been opened to you. Mr. Chase, that channel is 258.”
“I see it,” Chase said.
“Please watch the videos in that channel. It will take some time, though I will try to expedite matters for you by scrolling it at an advanced rate.”
Chase and Hennig fell silent, their gazes taking on the vacant look of someone in VR, and Demetrius waited patiently.
It did take a while – for the first video was that taken from Winston Peabody’s VR nanites as he sat in the first meeting of the ‘oldies,’ complete with the discussion of how to assassinate Carter and Ashton. The second video was that of Hennig and Brandt entering the Carter estate and placing the sabotage packages, complete with audio of their discussion. And there were others, including the second meeting, where Hennig and Brandt reported back that they had set the sabotage packages. But finally Chase and Hennig came back to reality. Hennig was very pale, almost green around the mouth, but Chase was red-faced.
“You complete and utter idiot,” he muttered to his client, very nearly clocking Hennig upside the back of the head before controlling himself. “Inspector Demetrius, may I speak with my client for a moment?”
“Certainly, Mr. Chase.” Demetrius rose, gestured to the blankness of the one-way window, then stepped out.
“They have you dead to rights, Joe,” an angry Chase said then. “There’s no way I can save your neck from this one. The best we can hope for is to plea-bargain. But if the Emperor is involved, even that may be off the table.”
“But, but,” Hennig tried. “The cops hired me.”
“The same cops that are likely being arrested as we speak, or close to it?”
“What?”
“The old Imperial Police on Sintar is gone, you imbecile. Anyone left who figures on trying to run things the way they used to be has dreams of grandeur that have no basis in reality. This Emperor simply won’t allow it. The absolute best you can hope for at this point is life in prison at hard labor. If the Emperor decides to eliminate you all, once and for all, there’s nothing I can do to even protest it. You’re a dead man, and that’s that.”
Chase hadn’t thought it was possible for Hennig to pale any further, but he managed it, his entire face taking on a distinct greenish hue.
“Maybe that bit about turning state’s evidence wasn’t such a bad notion, after all,” Chase decided, then walked over and tapped on the window glass. “When that inspector comes back in here, let me do the talking. Only talk when I tell you to answer his questions. Is that understood?”
“Ye-yes,” Hennig stammered, as Demetrius came back into the room.
Once bargaining was complete, and a certain level of immunity promised to Hennig in exchange for information, Chase gave his client permission to talk.
“Who hired you?” Demetrius began the interrogation.
“Um,” Hennig murmured, still pale.
“Stay calm, Mr. Hennig,” Demetrius said in a quiet tone. “Mr. Chase has secured your life. Only the Emperor can overrule that, and while I do not communicate with him directly myself, I have been given to understand from someone who does, and does so fairly regularly, that he has already agreed to honor the plea-bargain, even should this case be bumped up to the High Court.”
“Oh. Um, uh, that, that’s a relief, sir.”
“Good. Now let’s try again, shall we?”
“Uh, okay.”
“Who hired you?”
“Um. Captain Ted Bradly.”
“Is he the one who found you and brought you to the meetings?”
“No, sir.”
“Who did?”
“Officer Hunter Williams, sir.”
“How do you know Officer Williams?”
“He was the guy what the old Headquarters staff sent when they wanted to hire one of us. ‘Enforcers,’ they called us.”
“How did he find you?”
“Oh, he knew me an’ Pete – uh, Mr. Brandt – from previous hires, sir. We got a private VR channel that he pings us on, an’ we answer. An’ he told us where an’ when to meet him.”
“What is that VR channel?”
“Channel 999, sir.”
“Was Williams part of the conspiracy meetings?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was Bradly part of the conspiracy meetings?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who else was there?”
“Um, Inspector Winston Peabody, Lieutenant Bill Carr, Officer George Holland, Officer Dave Seeger, and a couple-three other officers I can’t remember names of.”
“Would you remember their names if I went over them?”
“Maybe.”
“Officer Dominick Ashton.”
“Um, no, sir. He any relation to that detective what hangs out with Carter?”
Chase bapped Hennig lightly on the back of the head, and Hennig quieted. Demetrius continued.
“Officer Noah Warner.”
“Yeah! He was there.”
“Officer Callista Ames.”
“Uhhh… No, sir.”
“Officer Matt Lowe.”
“Oh! Yes, sir. He was one of ‘em.”
“Officer Maia Peterson.”
“Mmm. No, sir.”
“Officer Theodore Wang.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Officer Timothy Jones.”
“…No, sir. I think that done got all of ‘em, sir.”
“Very well. So we have a list of conspirators as follows: Officer Theodore Wang, Officer Matt Lowe, Officer Noah Warner, Officer Dave Seeger, Officer George Holland, Lieutenant Bill Carr, Inspector Winston Peabody, Officer Hunter Williams, and Captain Ted Bradly. Plus yourself and your associate, Mr. Brandt. Is that correct?”
Hennig reckoned on his fingers before answering.
“Um, yes, sir, I’m pretty sure it is.”
“Was Inspector Peabody running the meetings?”
“No, sir, that would have been Captain Bradly.”
“I see. Did Peabody assist him?”
“No, sir. That would have been Lieutenant Carr.”
“Did Peabody do anything other than listen to the discussion in the meetings?”
“Not much, sir. The occasional comment when somebody spoke to ‘im. That ‘uz about it.”
“Indeed. And Bradly gave you your instructions?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What were your instructions?”
“To off this Director Carter guy, along with his ‘pet dog,’ Detective Ashton, and their wives, who were ICPD detectives, helpin’ Carter an’ Ashton.”
“And is the video you just watched with your counsel accurate as to how you went about doing this?”
Hennig hung his head. “Yes, sir.”
“Were you given any additional instructions?”
“Um, yes, sir. I was supposed to off Inspector Peabody, sir.”
“What?!”
“Yes, sir. Captain Bradly told me I was t’ find Peabody – told me where his apartment was, an’ all – and see he bit it. ‘Make it look like an old enemy offed him,’ he told me. Wanted me to do it this morning, as was.”
“And did you?” Demetrius leaned forward, intent.
“Nah,” Hennig sighed. “You guys got me ‘fore I had a chance to locate ‘im.”
“Pardon me for a moment,” Demetrius said. He rose and left the interrogation room.
Gorski met him in the hall.
“Yes, Gene, he’s telling the truth,” Gorski said, before Demetrius could ask. “In fact, me an’ Doc McCray had the impression he was spilling his guts.”
“But I thought Nick said Peabody was…” Demetrius broke off. “Bradly is aiming for the top office.”
“Sure sounds like it. We need to ping Nick, because I have no idea where Peabody is right now, do you?”
“No, and that’s bad.”
Ashton was still at Carter’s house, getting ready in the guest bathroom alongside Ames, when the urgent message came in on the classified VR channel being reserved for the conspiracy investigation. He glanced at Ames in the mirror, and tapped his temple. She nodded, concerned, and he dropped into VR.
“Nick!” Demetrius and Gorski both exclaimed when Ashton arrived in the virtual meeting room.
“Yeah. What’s up, guys? I got the ‘urgent’ notification.”
“Do you know where Peabody is?”
“Not offhand, no,” Ashton said. “Why?”
“Because Bradly ordered one of the enforcers to kill him, too,” Demetrius explained. “Are you sure Peabody was working with you and Lee?”
“As sure as I can be, short of reading the guy’s mind,” Ashton said, biting his lip in concerned thought. “And of course I told him to keep his VR off until this mess was over with, later this afternoon, so they couldn’t trace him…” He shook his head. “Shit. I didn’t think about them going after him, too. Not without them finding out he was helping us, at least.”
“Oh damn,” Gorski murmured. “Hennig says he didn’t have time to do the deed, but if Bradly has someone else on Peabody’s tail, too…”
“Yeah. That’d be bad, all right. But I got an idea, guys,” Ashton said then. “I’m betting he’s gone to see his old flame, a lady he wanted to get back together with, a mystery writer named Emily… what was it, oh! Emily Walton.”
“I know that writer,” Gorski said. “She’s good.”
“Yeah, she is. Do you know how to find her?”
“Not yet.”
Gorski and Demetrius put the rest of Hennig’s interrogation on hold, explaining to Chase that a matter of life and death had come up. Chase agreed, in the circumstances, and the two inspectors dived into an attempt to find Emily Walton.
“Here! I’ve got a link through her publisher!” Demetrius said, after nearly half an hour of searching.
“Put it through, police urgent!” Gorski said.
Moments later, they got a sleepy voice response.
“Um, hello?”
“Is this Ms. Emily Walton?” Demetrius asked.
“Speaking…”
“My name is Inspector Eugene Demetrius, ma’am. I’m with ICPD. Is there any chance you know where Winston Peabody is?”
“Can you prove who you are?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Can you prove you’re with ICPD?”
“In VR? Not definitively,” Demetrius said, “nor quickly. I can if I need to, but time is of the essence. I need to get an emergency message to Mr. Peabody from his supervisor. If you know where he is, please tell him to contact Detective Ashton at once.”
“Thank you. Goodbye,” Walton said, and broke the connection.
“Do you think she knows where he is?” Gorski wondered.
“Yes. She knew enough to ask for my bona fides,” Demetrius pointed out. “Now, if she’ll take it seriously and tell him, before we have a worse mess on our hands…”
“What was that all about?” Peabody wondered, as he sat up in bed beside Walton.
“Somebody named Demetrius, claiming to be from ICPD, wanted you to contact a Detective Ashton on an emergency channel. Isn’t Ashton your supervisor?”
“Yes! Inspector Demetrius?! That was one of Ashton’s colleagues when he was at ICPD!” Peabody exclaimed. “You said emergency channel?”
“Yes,” Walton said, becoming agitated. “Win, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know yet, honey,” Peabody said. “Give me a minute to try to contact my boss and find out.”
“…And so apparently Bradly was gunning for you, too,” Ashton finished the explanation. “Watch your back, Peabody. And your lady friend’s too.”
“Can you get someone trustworthy out here to help do that?”
“Not until we get the Sintaran part of IPD cleaned up, but if you bring her in to the ICPD headquarters precinct, there’s guys there who will. I’ll meet you there with my crew. That’s where I was headed this morning, anyway.”
“Consider it done, sir. And thank you.”
“I think that’s my line, Peabody.”
Finally Bradly and his henchmen emerged from the Director’s office in what passed for New Headquarters for the time being. “All right, let’s get to it, then,” a smug Bradly declared loudly. “Ladies and gentlemen, business as usual. At last.”
“What about Peabody?” one of the other detectives asked.
“What about him?” Bradly snapped, intensely annoyed by the repeated query. “I already told you, one of his old enemies got him, this morning.”
“Well, there’s a problem with that,” a voice said behind Bradly. “You see, it’s a complete fabrication. You’re lying, Bradly. Badly.”
Bradly spun, furious, to challenge the speaker…
…Only to see IPD Investigator Winston Peabody standing there, hale and hearty.
Accompanied by IPD Director Lee Carter, IPD Investigative Lead Detective Nick Ashton, ICPD Colonel Maia Peterson, and ICPD Detective Callista Ames, and the lot of them flanked by the rest of the ICPD’s ‘Team,’ plus a substantial number of the ICPD beat cops.
“It seems, Mr. Bradly,” an incensed Carter paraphrased an ancient bard, “that the rumors of our deaths have been greatly exaggerated.”
“Take them into custody,” Ashton ordered the ICPD Team.
Bradly went for his weapon, and suddenly found he was facing down, not only Carter, Ashton, Peabody, Peterson, Ames and the ICPD detectives and street cops, but all of the IPD investigators, and most of the IPD beat cops. All had weapons drawn, and were slowly herding Bradly’s co-conspirators into the center of the circle with Bradly.
“I wouldn’t do that, Bradly,” Ames almost snarled. “Not unless you enjoy looking – and feeling – like a block of Swiss cheese. Because I, for one, will be more than happy to oblige you in your chosen style. Just give me a damn reason.”
“What she said,” Peterson growled.
Bradly stood for a moment, stupefied. Then he quietly bent, laid his weapon on the floor, and kicked it away with his toe.
The rest of his co-conspirators followed suit.
A Decision
Once matters had settled down at the temporary New Headquarters, and the obvious conspirators had been sorted out and arrested, Carter called everyone left together in the beat cop bullpen, which was the largest room available. The fact that Carter & Co. had deliberately shown up during shift handover meant that virtually every current employee in the department headquarters was there. They all looked at him, waiting, the same question written on all their faces.
“Yes,” he answered the unspoken question. “There was indeed a concerted attempt to assassinate me, my wife, Detective Ashton, and his wife. Both our wives work as investigators for ICPD, and they know their stuff. More, ICPD has kindly offered to assist us through the reorganization and build-up. That group who was just arrested would not only have killed the four of us, but had apparently planned to fire-bomb the ICPD main building. What they figured to do about an unhappy Emperor, I don’t want to think. Especially after what happened to the last Empress.”
There were murmurs and grumblings throughout the big room.
“Now, I didn’t want to have to do this, but they’ve forced t
he matter by what they did,” Carter continued. “I would like a show of hands. Who is willing, not only to re-take their Oath, but to do so while sitting in a lie detector chair?”
A startled reaction went through his audience, then around eighty percent of the hands went up.
“How many would not be willing?”
Most of the rest of the hands went up.
“How many aren’t sure?”
Some half a dozen hands went up.
“Nick, could you take those handful aside into your office?” Carter asked, pointing out the uncertain and patently confused staffers. “I’ll be in there in a moment to talk to them.”
Carter waited until the small group had left the bullpen.
“Now, could I see the hands who would refuse, one more time?”
Hands went back up.
“Fine. You’re fired. Clear your desks and get out.”
Quite a few people stepped back in stunned amazement.
“You’re kidding,” Andy White said, shocked. “Just because we don’t want to re-take our oaths?”
“That lot that we just arrested for trying to kill me and several other people – including, let me note, Investigator Peabody, there, who is willing to be proven honest, even after having already done so by his actions – took the Oath, too,” Carter pointed out. “And they perjured themselves in the process. I’m sorry, but it’s a tough road we’re walking today. If you’re not willing to prove to me that you’re trustworthy when you take that Oath, then you’re not willing to do this job the way I want it done. The way the Emperor wants it done.” He nodded at White. “Now get your things and leave.”
“We don’t get a chance to change our minds?”
“Your first reactions told the tale, White. Go. I won’t say it again.”
Grumbling, the dissenters began gathering their personal belongings from their desks. Carter addressed the rest of the group.
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