by Kevin Bragg
‘Doesn’t mean Voss, Cooper or Dwerry won’t tell their side of the story. They will probably try anything to get a reduced charge. Again, though, it comes down to what can be proven. Want my advice?’
He nodded.
‘Take a lawyer. The police will try to tell you guilty people hide behind a mouthpiece but don’t take the bait. If you can, speak with him, or her, or them as soon as possible. Get your story straight and rehearse it.’
‘That isn’t much advice, Mr Helmqvist. I would never visit the police during an investigation without a lawyer present.’
‘True. Here’s the advice part: you do all the talking. Make it seem like your attorney is there for consultation purposes only. If they think you have nothing to hide, it might buy you some credibility.’
‘Rather risky, don’t you think?’
‘It is, but this is also about selling the lie with conviction because they will check. They will verify everything you say and if anything is out of line the wheels’ll come off this thing pretty quickly.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah. When I come up in the conversation, drop the DA’s name and that he referred me. Also, maybe have your lawyer remind them that our working relationship is confidential. That should end that line of questioning. Pissing the DA off has a way to ruin careers.’
‘Is that all?’
I stood. ‘Yep.’
He followed suit. ‘Should I pay you now, then?’
‘Let’s wait until we see how this thing plays out. Once we know the three blackmailers are being charged for embezzlement, we can settle up.’
‘Very good, Mr Helmqvist. We shall be in touch.’
‘One more thing,’ I called back as I made my exit. ‘Sorry about taking three million and change without asking. I’m sure it’ll be returned to you in the coming weeks.’
He chuckled lightly. ‘I’m certain HTS will find a way to soldier on.’
Must be nice…
*
The cab ride back to the office gave me time to shift gears from my encounters with Cooper, Dwerry, Ashdown and Porter to the Rennick case. As the LTI pulled to a stop outside my building, I knew what I needed to do.
‘Pam,’ I announced as I marched through the front door. ‘You beautiful woman, you! Why, under different circumstances I could kiss you right now!’
She stopped typing and looked up at me with her expressionless eyes. Definitely not inviting me to act out on any impulsive affection I may have been entertaining. Instead, I filled her in on what happened at 314D and my meeting with Porter in the aftermath.
‘We should be looking at about twenty grand in a week or so. Not bad for a few days’ work, eh?’
‘Commendable, sir. And the Rennick case?’
Never messes around, this one. ‘About that. I think I need to start my search at the heart of Kitterman’s empire.’
‘MARA Corporation?’
‘Yep. I figure if she is holding onto a datapad that implicates her in mass murder, she’ll keep it close by at all times.’
‘If we disregard the illogic of maintaining the storage device in her possession, wouldn’t it make more sense to hide it some place safer, such as her house or a bank deposit box?’
‘I did consider those as options, and it may turn out that you’re right, but I think her office is the place to start. MARA Corporation is her baby. It is, in a way, an extension of herself.’
A few years before Mara Kitterman’s father died, she left Earth and relocated here, on Mars. She brought with her a ton of money and even more smarts. At the time, the scientific community was baffled as to why one of the great minds of our generation would leave the centre of civilisation and move to a colony that had little impact on the galactic scene.
Mara never provided an explanation. What she did do, though, was inject all of her resources into bolstering New London’s university, funding civic improvements and starting her own company, Mars Advanced Robotics and Androids Corporation. Within five years, this dusty little rock floating around the Sun began to matter. Other companies, such as HTS, followed suit, and New London experienced a population boom of sorts. Not every district benefited from the boom equally, but life is rarely that generous.
‘I concede your point, sir. Breaking into her office is a logical place to start.’ Did she just humour me? ‘How shall you accomplish this?’
I placed Rennick’s business card on her desk. ‘I’m glad you asked. I need you to call this number on a secure line and patch her back to me.’
Pam reached for her phone and I jumped in. ‘Give me a minute or two first, alright?’
Her hand retracted silently and rested at the base of her keyboard. I dashed back to my office, fixed myself a gin and tonic in the previous night’s filthy highball and settled into my chair. I had enough time for one pull on the glass before Pam announced Ms Rennick was on the line.
‘Before you put her through, try to clone her phone during the conversation.’
‘Yes, sir.’
A beep followed and I picked up.
‘I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.’
‘What can I say? I’m a fast worker.’
‘So, you have something already?’
‘More like I need something.’ I took the silence on the other end as a cue to continue. ‘Can you get me blueprints and schematic drawings of MARA Corp HQ? I’d like to follow up on some leads but I need access to her office.’
‘Offices.’
‘What?’
‘She has two. One on the top floor of the executive building and one in R&D.’
‘Damn. I can’t go snooping around the entire complex. I’ll be risking my neck just to get into the place. Any suggestions?’
‘If you’re after what I think you’re after, I would search the executive building. There are far too many employees with access to her office in R&D for it to be considered a secure location. Whereas her other one is only used when she’s in there. It’s more like a sanctuary to her.’
Sanctuary, bingo!
‘Sounds like the place to start looking. Can you get me the prints?’
‘I can.’
‘Excellent. Meet me at DKY tomorrow at 8.30pm.’
‘Seems like a rather public place for an exchange of this nature, Mr Helmqvist. Is there some place else we could do this?’
‘I’ll be there on a date. I can pop over to the bar to meet you and then slip back to my table. It’ll make for a nice cover and we should be able to hide in the crowd. Trust me, it’s the perfect place.’
Her okay did not brim over with confidence. However, she agreed and terminated the call.
Without a sound, Pam appeared in my doorway but said nothing.
‘Were you able to access her phone?’
‘No, sir. I required more time to break through her encryption protocols.’
‘Ah well, you tried. I’d be worried if it was so easy to clone her phone.’
‘Perhaps…’ And her voice trailed off.
I drained my glass, grabbed a small, black box from the centre drawer in my desk, checked the contents – a pair of simple, gold earrings – and stood to make my exit.
‘Time to call it quits for today, I think. I’m off to 3rd Street to unwind. If anyone calls wanting to discuss a case, take a message this time and leave me be.’ I punctuated my demands with a wink.
In response, Pam went back to her desk and began typing away at her furious, determined pace.
9
The next day, a phone call from Detective Ashdown ruined my plans to chill out until my date with Erica. He requested my presence down at Metro HQ for some questions. From his tone, I knew I had two options: say ‘you got it’ and get to Research District 1 as quickly as possible, or say ‘no’ and get hauled in by some beat cops. Needless to say, five minutes after hanging up with the detective, I sped towards the central dome in the back seat of a black LTI.
Thirty minutes later, I slouched in a hard me
tal chair of a fourth-floor interrogation room, staring at my reflection and trying not to think about the cameras trained on me from their hovering positions at the corners of the ceiling to my left and right. Eventually, Ashdown joined me.
‘How’s your arm?’
I pulled my sleeve up to show a bandage wound tight around my forearm. ‘Good, thanks.’
Pleasantries out of the way, he jumped right in. ‘You stated the purpose of your visit to 314D Berkshire was because of an investigation into the illicit activities of an HTS employee. Is that correct?’
‘That’s right. Didn’t your tech crew find anything?’
The detective glanced down at his MIX11, made a swiping motion and then back to me. ‘Yeah, they found exactly what you told me they would find. And I mean exactly.’
I shrugged. ‘I did my homework before I made a move on them. It’s exact because that’s what happened.’
‘Cooper, Dwerry and Voss are telling a different story.’
‘Ah, for fuck’s sake—’
‘Hey! Watch the language in here, pal!’
‘Fine! For Christ’s sake, Ash. Is that better?’
He glowered. I continued, ‘Like a perp’s never told a lie during an interrogation. Dangle some pie-in-the-sky story and hope you bite on it.’
‘So, you didn’t enter their building disguised as a pizza delivery guy and attack Cooper and Dwerry without provocation?’ He left out the NEEDLE, which I thought was a nice gesture, but it didn’t give him a free pass.
‘Cooper, Dwerry and Voss said I did this? Voss, who was working during the incident?’ I can cross-examine, too.
The detective glanced down at his tablet again in frustration. ‘No. Cooper and Dwerry told that one. Those two plus the girlfriend have confessed to attempted blackmail. They had no idea about the bank accounts and seemed genuinely surprised to learn they were already millionaires.’
‘Blackmail is less time, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Imagine that. Confessing to a lesser charge. Feigning surprise at the hidden money. Is there no limit to the level of deviousness these three possess?’
‘Can it, Helm! The thing is, they are all telling the same story. How HTS discovered a planet, didn’t tell anyone about it and wiped out a species to gain access to raw materials.’
‘And you believe them? Have you found anything to support these allegations?’
‘Not really and no. But through isolated interviews the level of detail they’ve given is precise and consistent.’
‘Maybe they rehearsed a scenario like this. Draw out the investigation and buy for more time.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Anyway, what does it matter? You’ve got what you need on them, right?’
‘We do.’
‘Then what’s this all about?’
‘You don’t have a monopoly on being thorough, Helm.’
‘Superb! Can I go now?’
He spun his MIX11 around, facing me. ‘Review this statement. If it jives with your account of what you’ve told Metro PD, sign it and you can go back to enjoying your Saturday.’
Everything looked to be on the up and up, so I scrawled my signature.
The detective and I parted ways at the on-duty desk. ‘Remember, until this thing is closed, don’t go anywhere.’
‘I guess I’ll have to cancel my climbing trip up Mount Alba. Which is a pity because I’ve heard it’s lovely in the spring. Flowers coming into bloom. Trees lush and green. But if you insist…’
Ashdown shook his head and walked away.
On the way back to my apartment, I called Pam to let her know about my interview and reflected on how much trouble I’d be in if Porter’s nasty little secret came to light. I shuddered and quickly moved on to other worries.
*
Several hours later, I walked out of my apartment, dressed in a dark grey wool three-piece with a white shirt and champagne-coloured silk tie. I don’t wear that tie too often but I figured I should make an effort to liven up my ensemble. On my way to my car, I double-checked my inside breast pocket to make sure the cheap pair of gold earrings I had taken from my office yesterday hadn’t disappeared under mysterious circumstances. An app I had installed on my MAX confirmed that the tracking device in the earrings worked, as well. So far, so good.
On my way to Erica’s, I called Steve and asked if he could pick me up outside my house tonight at 2am. I was taking a helluva risk by dragging him into my scheme but I needed a driver. At first, he hesitated to agree. Let’s face it: people going out at that hour are rarely off to Mass. He came around, though, when I agreed to triple his fee and include a generous tip.
By 7.30, Erica and I cruised through her neighbourhood, Residential 2, towards the Financial District. Skalpel’s Polish Jazz played in the background. Erica looked like a knock-out.
Over a sheath-style dress as dark as night, which stopped at mid-thigh, she wore a black, sheer maxi-dress. A stitched floral pattern trailed down both sleeves and the main body of the fabric. A pair of matching sandals with leather straps and a bit of a heel to them completed the ensemble. Her straight, dark hair fell to her shoulders with a single, long braid on the right side tucked behind her ear. She had applied her make-up with artful skill.
‘I didn’t know you had a car, Danny?’ she asked as we cruised through the high-end dome, Residential 1.
‘Yeah, I only bring it out on special occasions.’ This was partially true. Parking in New London cost a fortune so I tended to only drive to places where it didn’t cost a day’s salary to leave it – namely, my apartment, my office or 3rd Street. Anyway, the comment won me some points.
‘I’ve never seen one like this before. Is it new?’
‘The Griffon is about five years old. Nash only ever made a handful of them as prototypes.’ The car had a wide stance and more curves than a burlesque dancer. It looked like something out of the 1930s. Its simulated exhaust gave the normally lifeless whir of the electric motor a deep, throaty growl.
‘And you got one?’
‘Payment on a case.’
‘Really? You must be one tough negotiator.’
‘I guess it depends on how much I like my clients.’
‘And what about me? What if I was one of your clients?’
‘I’ll just say, I’m glad you aren’t running Nash or we’d be in a cab right now.’
The Financial District loomed in the distance. I had just enough time to spring my meeting with Rennick on Erica before we rolled up to DKY’s valet parking stand. All things considered, she took it well, but then again she seemed fairly easy-going.
*
DKY billed itself as Pacific Rim and jazzed the place up with a decor somewhere between the ancient and the modern. A minimalist electronic interpretation of traditional Japanese music played in the background; simple melodies played on kotos and bamboo flutes woven together with a nice selection of down-tempo backbeats and loops.
The maître d’, and my sometimes drinking partner when I’m not slumming in the IM, Dominic set us up at a cosy table for two in an out of the way spot. I kicked the night off with a reliable gin and tonic. Erica went for a chardonnay. Our conversation fell into a lull while we considered the options on the menu.
A waiter stalked up with perfect timing to take our orders. Erica chose the seared tuna with a ginger-miso sauce. It came with a julienned sweet potato and crispy sushi rice salad tossed in a wasabi oil dressing. I opted for a pork loin chop crusted with panko and togarashi. They served the breaded loin with grilled vegetables, lentils and a shallot soy-mustard sauce. For a starter, I picked a bowl of sweet chilli edamame and another with garlic sauce. To drink, Erica and I agreed on a bottle of Junmai-shu, chilled.
We toasted the evening and the banter went down as easy as the booze.
‘Are you wearing one of your own creations?’ I asked after a sly up and down of her perfect figure.
‘I am. How did you guess?’
‘Just lu
cky, I suppose.’
I said before that Erica worked at one of my local haunts, which was true. However, her ambition in life was to make it in the fashion industry. She and her roommate Chloe MacDonald met in UNL’s design programme, have been friends since and have turned their two-bedroom apartment into a mini studio. Based on what she wore, I had no doubt she’d make it in the business sooner rather than later.
‘Well, you don’t look too bad yourself.’
I tilted my glass towards her in salute. ‘Why thank you. I have the fortunate privilege of living above a tailor’s shop. In fact, I should introduce you to him. I wouldn’t be too surprised if Rick’s got connections.’
‘That’s very sweet of you, Danny. It’d be great to meet him.’
The appearance of Dominic brought the conversation to an abrupt halt.
‘Sorry to disturb you both, but I have a message for Mr Helmqvist.’
He handed me a folded piece of paper, and drifted back to his position near the entrance.
I examined the note:
I’m at the bar. C
‘Right on time,’ I said under my breath.
‘What is it?’ asked Erica.
‘My client. She’s here.’
*
I picked my way past other diners and found Charlotte Rennick sitting in a tiny booth tucked into the corner of the bar area. She toyed with a glass of wine in one hand and held a menu in the other.
She smiled politely when she saw me. I reciprocated and eased in next to her.
‘You look very dapper tonight,’ she said as she let the menu fall onto the table.
‘Why thank you. You look pretty good yourself.’
She wore a fashionable sleeveless dress with a high neckline and the skirt bunched at the waist. I couldn’t really tell because of the table and her posture but I assumed that the pleating gave a bit of a flared-look to it. The colour – a soft shade of coral – offset her complexion perfectly.
‘It’s nice to see you haven’t lost your charm, Mr Helmqvist.’