by Kevin Bragg
*
‘Where to?’ Steve asked as I eased myself into the cab.
‘Theo’s Hi-Tech Automotive.’
He punched the name into his nav unit. ‘Over on Harper?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘It’s not very far from here,’ he mused out loud.
‘I know. I’m just not feelin’ too great at the moment.’
He glanced up in the review mirror at me once again. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, Mr Helmqvist, you don’t look too good. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go see a doctor or something?’
I winced out a chuckle.
‘Thanks, Steve. I’ve already been to the doc’s. Right now, I need to see a man about a car.’
‘A car? I didn’t know you drive.’
Not an uncommon reaction. A lot of people go their entire lifetime without getting a licence.
‘I do. And I have a pretty sweet ride.’
‘What happened to it, if you don’t mind me askin’?’
‘Nothing too serious. One of the doors won’t shut properly.’
‘Is it because your head was in the way?’ Steve asked as he merged into traffic.
‘Real funny,’ I said before we got too far. ‘Listen, I’d like to make a pit stop on the way to the shop.’
‘Sure thing. You’re paying the fare. We can go wherever you want.’
‘There’s a barbecue joint nearby. Theo loves their food.’
At Tunnel BBQ, I ordered two Memphis Platters with an extra order of fried potato wedges. One was for me and the other was for my mechanic. I figured he’d appreciate the gesture and I needed him to agree to a favour.
Steve looked around cautiously as we pulled into Theo’s. ‘This is where you brought your car?’
‘Don’t let the ambience fool you, Steve. Theo is as good as they come. In fact, I doubt you’ll find a better mechanic in all of New London.’
‘You’d never guess.’
I placed my thumb against the chip reader and paid the fare. Tip included. ‘Appearances and deception and all that.’
He chuckled. ‘True. Need any help getting out?’
‘I think I can manage,’ and I grimaced and groaned my way out of the back seat, contents within the carry-out bag undamaged.
Steve poked his head out his window. ‘Call me if you need anything, Mr Helmqvist. You’re turning out to be a very profitable friend to have.’
Friend. I have no idea if he meant it, but when he said it my spirits rose higher than they’d been in days.
I nodded and waved. ‘Warms my heart to hear you say that Steve.’ Sarcasm appreciated. He drove off with his left hand sticking out the window in goodbye.
Theo was parked behind a service computer watching a video of a dog chasing a stick in low gravity. His eyes crinkled in delight. His laughter rolled out like a Christmas carol.
‘Daniel,’ he said with his mellow baritone voice. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ His gaze drifted down to the Tunnel BBQ logo on the side of the plastic bag.
‘I’ve brought you a bribe.’ I hoisted the dinner up onto the counter.
‘A bribe?’ he responded with mock offence. ‘I am an honest man, Daniel. You know that.’
‘To a fault,’ I countered. ‘But I had hoped you’d loan me one of your jalopies while the Griffon is being repaired. I figured some barbecue would help my case.’
He pulled one of the containers out.
‘If it wasn’t for the fact that you brought me this delicious-smelling meal, I’d be hurt at the thought of any of my very fine automobiles being referred to as a jalopy.’
‘Is that a yes, then?’ I said with a chuckle.
‘Of course you can borrow one of my cars, Daniel. However,’ he continued after a brief pause, ‘it isn’t going to take that long to fix the Nash. Most of the damage was superficial.’
‘Ah, I see. Could you take a bit longer to fix it? Like a week or so? And while we are on the subject of my car, I would like to retrieve the items I left in the trunk.’
‘No problem, my friend.’ There it was again. Friend. It felt good. ‘Now, what about this car you want to borrow?’
‘Something for a little surveillance work. I thought maybe you’d have something that might blend in a bit better than my car.’
Theo stood there and contemplated my request.
‘I think I have just the thing. Come with me.’
We walked out of the customer service area, through the garage with its four work bays, and out a door in the back. I was greeted with a whole host of cars in various states of repair (or disrepair might be a more accurate descriptor).
‘Here we go,’ Theo said after a few minutes of scanning the yard and led me over to a faded black LTI.
‘This?’ I said, as I gave it the once over. As far as I could tell, it used to be a taxi but one that had seen better days. Theo laughed a hearty laugh. One of those laughs that comes booming straight from your toes.
‘It runs fine. It just needs a good wash. But it is perfect. You can pretend to be a cab driver. No one will suspect a thing.’
I scratched my chin and thought about it. I doubt anyone would even notice me in RD1. There are hundreds of taxis at all times milling about the place. Its shabby appearance might discourage any potential fares.
‘You do have a point. I’ll take it.’
He patted my shoulder and I winced. He didn’t seem to notice.
‘I’ll have my boys get it cleaned up. While we wait, let’s see what’s in those containers.’ My stomach rumbled in agreement.
On the way to his office, we swung by the Griffon. Theo’s boys had the door off and one of them had finished cutting off the mangled hinge. I fired up the electronics, disabled the secret compartment’s lock, and the boss man himself snagged my satchel full of contraband.
We were elbow deep in sauce-stained napkins and bones when a shop guy popped in to tell us the LTI was good to go.
‘Don’t you go messing up the doors on this taxi, Daniel. You hear me?’ He laughed at his own joke and the sound filled the room.
‘No promises but I’ll do my best.’
Theo slapped me on the back again, still laughing. I took the blow as best I could. He handed me the keys. We shook hands. And he stood leaning against the perimeter fence of his little empire, watching me drive into the sunset.
*
In the amount of time it took me to walk from the parking structure to my building, reason gave way to fear. An alley loomed like a potential ambush spot. Imaginary thugs crept in the shadows. By the time I reached my apartment, sweat glistened on my forehead, and I waited for the bogeyman to come.
Nothing happened over night. No unseen assassins burst through my door and murdered me in my sleep. No mysterious intruders skulked their way into my apartment and went through my personal effects while I dreamt the night away.
I woke to a day that began, like so many others, rather unremarkably and for that I was grateful. Being fortunate enough to catch the sun rise over Mars, and any amount of relief associated with that feeling, didn’t stop me from scrolling through my list of contacts and hitting a familiar number.
‘Detective John Ashdown, Metro Police,’ he said automatically.
‘John. It’s Daniel Helmqvist.’
‘You alright, Helm? You sound a little out of sorts.’
‘You’re gonna think I’m suffering from post-concussion delusions, but…’ I held my breath for two Mississippis before continuing. ‘But if you find my corpse stuffed in a trash bin or missing over the next few days or weeks, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
‘What the hell! What are you mixed up in now?’
‘I won’t go into specifics, but let’s just say hospitality in this city ain’t what it used to be.’
‘Someone roughed you up, again?’
‘That’s one way to put it.’
‘Did you report the incident?’
‘No, but I did go to the doctors.’
‘G
ood for you. And you think it’s connected to a case you’re working on?’
‘Not really. I dunno for certain, but my office assistant does, though. I think she’s worried about me.’
‘What’s your assistant’s name?’
‘Pam.’
‘Surname?’
‘No last name. She’s an android.’
‘Wait! You have a bucket of bolts that believes your life may be in danger and it’s worried about you? How is that even possible?’
‘Beats the hell outta me. Crazy, isn’t it?’
‘That’s one way to put it. And you believe her?’
‘Her argument has a certain logic that is difficult to refute.’
Silence on the other end. ‘You were right. I do think you’ve been knocked on the head too hard. But even if your assistant is correct, what do you want me to do about it?’
‘Nothing, John. But it’s like I said before: if your department is called to a crime scene and my dead ass is in the middle of it, don’t rule it accidental or suicide.’
‘Christ, Helm, if this is some attempt at a joke, your gallows humour isn’t appreciated.’
‘No joke, Detective. A heads-up is all.’
‘Well, I can guarantee you one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘No one’ll try to ice you while you’re in my interrogation room.’
‘How very comforting.’
‘Well, while we’re on the subject—’
‘Which you brought up.’
‘I’d like to speak to you again about the embezzlement case.’
‘We can’t do this over the phone?’
‘I’d rather talk in person. If it helps, I’ll have a hot cup of coffee waiting for you.’
‘I guess I better hurry then. The lukewarm sludge you fed me last time was on the wrong side of awful.’
‘Yeah, better hurry.’ And with that he hung up on me.
24
Ashdown stepped through the door into the interrogation room with a steaming cup of Joe in one hand and the requisite MIX in the other. The scent of Arabica beans filled the tiny space.
The detective took the seat across from me and launched right into it. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting but I figured I’d hold off on the coffee until I had proof of life.’
‘Ha ha ha. Maybe you can tell me why I’m here instead of the comedy routine.’ I tested the java and scalded the tip of my tongue. Ashdown caught my recoil from the sip and grinned.
He then pulled something up on his tablet and passed it over to me.
‘What’s this?’
‘Just read.’
I stared at an MNN article about an industrial accident that had happened a few hours ago. I skimmed the page until I saw what Ashdown wanted me to see.
A spokesperson, for Revolve Systems Ltd, released the names of the three individuals: Sarah Oliver, Luther Dwerry and Henrietta Perez.
‘What the hell?’ I said without looking up. ‘Shouldn’t Dwerry be in lock-up and not getting skewered by a robotic welder?’
‘Porter didn’t press charges. We released all three of them on Friday.’
I looked up now. ‘All of them? Even his assistant?’
‘Yep. Free on Friday. Dead two days later.’
‘Wait, you’re telling me they are all dead?’
Ashdown took the MIX back from me. ‘Sorry. Only Dwerry – that we know of.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I tested the coffee again; drinkable in very small quantities.
‘Keep in mind this is all happening in real time, but we only have the known whereabouts of two out of the three in the embezzlement case.’
‘I’m assuming Dwerry, who is now in the morgue. And?’
‘Lyric Voss. Cooper is in the wind. We have him going into his apartment on Friday and then nothing. We sent a unit over to investigate and there’s no sign of him. No sign of a struggle. No sign he took any of his possessions.’
‘Cooper is in the wind? How could he be in the wind? We live in domes. It isn’t like he could sneak away in the cover of night, never to be seen again.’
‘If he is still in New London, we’ll find him. Like I said, this only started to matter when we got a report of Dwerry’s death.’
‘Do you think Porter is involved?’
‘That’s the question of the day, Helm.’
‘Is HTS connected to Revolve in any way?’
‘Revolve make propulsion components for DRIVE, who build FTL systems. It all uses superconductors, and HTS is listed as a supplier to Revolve. HTS has purchased engines from DRIVE in the past, but so has just about every other corporation and government with enough credits to afford their high-end Space Fold technology. But that’s about as far as the connection goes. Nothing obvious. However, it doesn’t mean he couldn’t have orchestrated it somehow.’
I nursed my coffee and reflected on what Ashdown had told me. If Porter was behind this, he was playing a dangerous game.
‘I don’t understand. Why did Porter drop the charges?’
A question I could answer. He didn’t trust how the investigation would play out – he wanted to control the situation as much as possible – but I wanted Ashdown’s version.
‘He said that the recovery of the money was more important than ruining the lives of such talented young people.’
I nearly spat my coffee out. ‘What the hell? He said that??’
Ashdown nodded. ‘I think he referred to Ms Voss more than the other two. Still, it sounds like a ton of horse shit to me.’
‘Earlier, you said you knew the whereabouts of two of the three. The second being Voss, right?’
‘Yep, I contacted her at her known address.’
‘You actually spoke to her?’
‘We did. I asked her if she knew about what had happened to Dwerry. She hadn’t heard anything about him. I also asked her why she thought Porter didn’t press charges for her role in the embezzlement case. She confirmed what Porter had already told us. She said he told her that she had great potential but had fallen in with the wrong crowd.’
Porter’s butler accent floated through my mind. ‘I hate to say it, but it does sound like something he would say. The guy stepped right out of period drama and into our century.’
Ashdown continued. ‘Voss told me that not only did she not get sacked for her involvement in the plot but that Porter was transferring her to their Lares office. She called it a promotion of sorts.’
‘Do you believe her?’
The detective tapped his chin in thought. ‘I dunno. Her voice carried a nervous energy and she seemed distracted during our interview. However, a simultaneous chat with Porter at his home by another detective supported her story. He said he thought she would do well outside the influence of a bad egg like Cooper. Voss confirmed it independently.’
I ran the heel of my palm and my fingers back and forth over my forehead, trying to make sense of this. For the moment, I’d forgotten all about my involvement in this little caper.
‘So let me get this straight – Voss plays a critical role in the theft of three million credits from HTS and not only is she not facing prison but she’s getting a promotion?’
‘Looks that way, Helm.’
‘Where is Lares?’
Ashdown jabbed at the MIX’s touchscreen. ‘Gliese 667 C system.’
‘And HTS has an office there.’
More jabbing. ‘Umm, yeah. They have a partnership with a local government on a solar farm project.’
We sat there for a moment, looking at each other. I still had no idea why the detective had called me in.
‘He said “bad egg”?’ I asked finally.
‘What’s that?’
‘You said Porter called Cooper a “bad egg”.’
‘Oh, right. Yeah. A bad egg.’
‘From anyone other than him, I’d be surprised to hear that dusty old phrase.’
‘What can you tell me about Porter?’
Ah ha
! Now his calling me in started to make sense. Information.
‘I doubt I can tell you more than you already now. CEO of HTS for some time now. Immigrated to Mars with the job. He has some high-level political connections within the city. Plays golf with the DA at one of those ridiculous virtual country clubs. A weakness for misguided employees apparently.’ I shrugged. ‘That’s about it. The guy hired me to do a job and I did it.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Afraid so.’
Ashdown shut off the MIX and stood. I took it as my cue and stood as well.
‘Thanks for coming in Dan.’ We headed to the door of the interview room.
I stepped through first. ‘No problem. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.’
Ashdown and I headed to the elevators.
‘Do you think he did it?’ I asked as I entered the first available carriage and held the door open.
He stepped in beside me.
‘Hard to say. The investigation is young but nothing directly connects Porter to the accident. I doubt we will find anything. One more question before we part ways.’
‘Fire away.’
He jammed the Emergency Stop button. A computerised voice filled the space.
The Emergency Stop button has been activated. If this is an actual emergency, please say ‘Emergency’ in a clear, audible voice and someone will be with your shortly. Thank you and have a nice day.
‘Why did Porter hire you for an embezzlement case? Why not keep it in-house? Use his own people?’
I shrugged again. ‘Beats me, Ash. Maybe he didn’t know who to trust within the organisation. Everything pointed to an inside job when he came to me with it. He went outside HTS to a person he trusted, who in turn recommended me. I took the case and, because of it, get to keep the lights on for a little while longer.’
Ashdown pressed the Ground Floor button again and the elevator resumed its slow descent.
‘Fair enough,’ he said as the doors opened.
I hopped out. He didn’t.
‘Stay out of trouble, Helm.’
‘Always do, Detective.’
*
Given my slight paranoia of being killed, or abducted, or abducted and then killed, using public transportation may not have been considered smart, but the proliferation of commuters and security cameras made an untimely death improbable at the very least.