While it would take a minute for him to notice me, there was no reason I couldn’t greet him immediately. I brushed my hair out of my eyes, and I wished I looked more presentable; but it was his own damned fault for calling so late, ship’s time. So I jumped into my greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holmes.”
After the light-speed delay, Holmes started in. “It’s about time you—” Then he stopped. “What time is it there? Oh, my apologies, Inspector Park. My aide miscalculated your time zone. Yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you. But I don’t like to waste time, so I’m glad I don’t have to introduce myself. To get right to my point: I understand you’re taking an inordinately long time in prosecuting Nick Aames. If there are any resources I can provide to help speed things along, just let me know. This delay is unacceptable! The sooner that man is busted out of the Corps, and a real captain put in charge of that ship, the better. So explain yourself, Park. What’s taking you so long?”
“Explain myself?” I sat straight up in bed. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. You don’t get to tell the Inspector General’s Office what to do. Mr. Holmes, I answer to Admiral Justin V. Reed of the Inspector General’s Office, and he answers directly to the Initiative Council. You are not in my chain of command, so you can take your demands and . . . file them.” I didn’t say where.
I could tell from Holmes’s eyes when my response arrived, and he grew agitated. “Ms. Park, I am the sixty-seventh wealthiest individual in the solar system. That means there are sixty-six people with enough resources to tell me no, but you are not one of them. I have more influence than you can possibly imagine, both inside the Initiative and out. If you keep up this insolence, I can make life very difficult for you. I have friends on the Initiative Council. People listen to me there. The right word in the right ear at the right social occasion, and you might find your promotion opportunities held up for years to come.”
I shook my head. “You do know, Mr. Holmes, that communications with my office or with me are routinely recorded. A blatant threat like that looks very bad for you.”
After the delay, Holmes laughed. “Record me? Go ahead. At my level of the game, Park, these aren’t threats. This is just how the game is played: I forcefully advocate for my position, using all of the tools at my disposal, and so does anyone else who wants to sway the Council. It’s easier when we’re above board about what we want and what we’ll do to get it. Anyone can see what tools we’ll use. That way there are no secrets to surprise us nor to be held against us by those who might try to control us.”
Holmes looked down at his comp, and then back up at me. “And speaking of tools, my division, Holmes Agro, is the third-largest rice purchaser in Asia. Second largest in Korea. I buy a lot of rice to support my orbital and asteroidal missions. In fact, I purchase 92 percent of the rice grown in Hongcheon. I have people to handle that business, of course, but I do have to be certain which farmers I can trust to deliver on their contracts. If I lose confidence in, say, Park Farms of Hongcheon, I will have to send in quality inspectors to ensure that the farms meet my standards. And my inspectors are very particular. We pay a premium to keep our missions supplied, so we have to be sure the crops deserve that premium. If they don’t, I may just have to cancel contracts.” And he smiled at me, an utterly poisonous smile that made me want to spit at him.
“Mr. Holmes, are you threatening my family? After I told you this was being recorded?”
Holmes must have anticipated me. He answered before he could’ve heard my question: “Did I threaten? I merely stated my business position: if I have reason to question your judgment, that gives me reason to question your father’s as well, and I will have to reevaluate our business relationships. A man in my position has to pay attention to even the smallest details if he wants to stay in this position. I made no threats, and I’ve got very well-paid lawyers to convince a court of that if need be. But if you give me a reason to trust you . . .” He trailed off; but before I could respond, he continued, “It’s time you made some decisions, Park. The right decisions.”
I shook my head, confused. “Mr. Holmes, I don’t understand this anger. What do you care about Nick Aames’s case? I know you lost a lot of money when you lost the Aldrin, but that was over a decade ago. You can’t still be holding a grudge. And if you are, why did you endow Aldrin University?” The school’s entire initial endowment was built on Holmes stocks and bonds.
Holmes leaned into the pickup and glared at me, eyes narrowed. “That man cost me more than a lot of money. He cost me a small fortune and long-term economic leverage that I have never recovered. And it’s time everybody learns what an incompetent and dangerous commander he is.”
I glared right back. I wasn’t going to fall for stupid dominance games. “Forgive me for not studying your corporate history, but how did Nick Aames cost you that much?”
“The way he ran that ship, he killed my profit margins. Oh, the Aldrin never lost money. He delivered on time—he had to, orbital mechanics gave him no choice—and payloads were well maintained. Customers were satisfied. But everything about the transport cost more than I budgeted, thanks to his overblown safety protocols, his inspections, and his constant crew training. Not to mention the high turnover rate among crew that hated his guts.”
“But if you made money, what was the problem?”
Holmes sighed, and he slowed down as if explaining to a simpleton. “Inspector, in a business the size of mine, it’s not a question of making money, it’s about making enough money. I invested money in that ship, and I didn’t make enough return on investment. I could’ve done better in modular fusion, or low-orbital habitats, or a dozen other ventures. But instead, I had invested in the Mars cycler program, and heavily leveraged that investment, expecting a certain rate of return. Thanks to Aames and his nitpicking, we never got close to that return. Our costs were too high. Finally I had to unload that tin can and several smaller divisions that I had used to bankroll that operation, and I took a loss on every one. Nick Aames set me back a decade because he can’t treat space travel as a routine business venture.”
Holmes looked away. I could see him trying to maintain his calm. “And then, after I sold out to the Initiative, suddenly Aames’s costs started coming down. He said it was due to efficiencies that grew over time, but I’m convinced he deliberately sabotaged me. He got a kickback from someone, I’m sure. And soon the Aldrin was competing against my own fast boats. That cost me another small fortune. For payloads that didn’t have to get to Mars quickly, their costs were 10 percent of mine. I almost lost the fast boat business as well.”
I tried to hide the smugness in my voice, but it wasn’t easy. “As you said, sir, you have excellent lawyers. Investigators, too, I’m sure. If there was any proof for your charges, I’m sure you would’ve found it by now. I think you’re just bitter that you gave up too soon, and you were wrong and Aames was right.”
Holmes swung back to the screen and shouted, “That man cost me—” But he swiftly regained his composure. “That man nearly cost me everything. Even my no-account son. Anthony was so taken with Mars, he applied to be a permanent colonist. To prove he could make it on his own, he divested of his entire inheritance and holdings. He is the one who endowed that fly-by-night ‘university,’ not me. He gave them voting stock! He endowed it in my name, as a sop to my vanity, but not with my approval.”
“I see,” I said. “And so a major voting bloc in your organization is controlled right here on the Aldrin. And you want it back under your control.” I wondered which loss bothered Holmes more, his son or his controlling vote.
And then I had another thought. “In fact, Mr. Holmes, I suspect that if I asked Admiral Reed to launch an Earth-side investigation, he would find that I’m not the only one to whom you have applied pressure regarding this case. In fact, I wonder if he would find more than words whispered in ears: perhaps financial contributions to politicians, perhaps even to Initiative Council members. And not just to their c
ampaigns, maybe even to their personal accounts. I am just speculating, of course, but I do have to wonder.”
When Holmes heard my comments, he smiled. “I won’t respond to such base speculations. There’s no evidence for any of that, I’m sure of it.” But some of his confidence was gone. He wasn’t sure at all.
That was all I needed to know to press my advantage. “Perhaps not, Mr. Holmes, but it would be interesting to find out. Sometimes evidence isn’t as deeply buried as we think. Admiral Reed is an extremely thorough investigator.”
Holmes turned furious. “Young lady, I’m recording, too, and that’s slander.”
But I saw sweat on his brow, and I knew I had him. “It’s only slander if we can’t prove it, sir. Are you prepared to take that chance? Because I am.” Then I shook my head. “But I don’t think it has to come to that. I think things will work out just fine if we let my investigation follow its natural course. And none of this discussion has to become part of the official case record. So if you will back off”—I emphasized those two words—“and stop telling me how to do my damned job, I will do a thorough investigation on the merits of this case, and on those alone. I will have no reason to expand my investigation. But if you continue to push me, I will be forced to inform Admiral Reed that your actions are relevant to the case. That will put the case here on hold, potentially indefinitely, while we pore over every detail of your political connections. I think we can agree that patience is the wiser course, can’t we?”
Without waiting for a response, I added, “I hope by now I’ve reassured you about the independence of this office. We don’t take pressure, not from you and not from Captain Aames. We don’t take it from anyone. But when we need to, we can serve it up. Park out.” And I closed the call.
I hoped it had cost a hundred thousand dollars of his time. I was furious. But I made myself calm down. Anger at Holmes wouldn’t help my objectivity, and that was going to get seriously tested. I told myself to be happy I had put Holmes in his place, and just leave it at that.
But for the second time that night, I lay in bed and worried about a message from Reed. I was still worrying when I finally fell asleep again.
The next morning, I woke feeling almost as tired as the night before. Between the late night calls and fretting, I had gotten little rest. I felt edgy and irritated, ready to tear into anyone who crossed me. That seemed like the perfect mood for a mole hunt.
When I got to Matt’s office, he was waiting for me, as usual; and he had a large cup of coffee ready and a pot sitting on the table behind his desk. “I saw your comm logs from last night,” he said. I smiled as I gulped down some coffee, warm and black and strong, and I needed no other explanation. We were starting to learn how each other worked, and I appreciated his diligence. Maybe we could work together again after this temporary post.
We took our cups into my office, with the walls as dark as the coffee, and we started to work. I set Aames’s e-reader on a side table, and I tilted up the giant desktop, turning it into a display board so it would be easier for us both to see. I explained about Admiral Knapp’s mole in our team, and then I pulled in two piles: the crew depositions my team had made, and my team’s own personnel records. We started looking at them and discussing them, searching for signs of the mole.
Of course the first suspect I had worried about had been Matt himself. I never told him that, but he was professional and experienced enough to expect it. I had to consider that he was so helpful as a means to ingratiate himself with me and work his way into my confidence. But I had reviewed his record very carefully during my sleepless period the night before. Matt had spent his entire career in the IG Office, and he had a string of favorable evaluations, quite impressive at his young age. There were no irregularities in his finances, and Admiral Reed himself had used him as an aide on three cases. If there was any smudge on his record, I couldn’t see it. Still, damn Knapp for making me so paranoid. I felt awful having to suspect Matt, but Knapp had left me no choice. I had to suspect everyone.
Now, more awake and recharged from the fresh coffee, I felt more confident about Matt. My trust in him grew. As we worked through the records, I really came to appreciate his sharp mind: he didn’t think like me, but he made a nice complement to my methods. I picked out motivations and behaviors, while he was skilled with numbers and connections. Between the two of us, we could tear apart a hypothesis and see if it would break.
And so by 1030 hours, we had narrowed down our suspects to a list of five. By 1110, we had it down to three: Ensign Debra J. McCall, Lieutenant Henrik Kooistra, and Lieutenant Christopher Decker. Each had spent years in the Admiralty offices before transferring to the IG, two of them having worked in Knapp’s headquarters. That made sense: Captain Aames wasn’t the only officer who could inspire lasting loyalty in his subordinates. For each of them, Matt found possible indicators that they were drawing a salary beyond their IG pay. We pulled out the depositions they had performed, and scheduled those to be redone. I also set up interviews with each of them. I was confident that face-to-face, I could determine which of them was hiding something.
We wrapped that all up with ten minutes to spare before Admiral Knapp’s deposition, so I was feeling pretty pleased with our work. When 1200 rolled around, though, Knapp was nowhere to be seen. Instead one of his aides had come down from H Ring. Matt ushered her into my office. The young junior lieutenant looked nervous as she entered, as if she expected fireworks.
I looked at her, and I let contempt slide into my voice. “Yes, Lieutenant?” She didn’t deserve it, she was just Knapp’s pawn, but I was too cranky to be forgiving.
The lieutenant’s voice shook as she answered, “Begging the inspector general’s pardon, ma’am. Admiral Knapp expresses his apologies that he will be unable to provide a deposition at this time as he is overseeing certain personnel transfers. As these transfers involve a member of your team, he was sure you would understand. He says this will explain.” She handed me a message pouch, then stood at attention and waited for me to dismiss her.
I used my thumbprint to open the pouch. Inside was a data stick marked “CONFIDENTIAL.” I looked up at Matt and the messenger. “At ease.” Then I pulled my earphones from my personal comp, stuck them in my ears in case Knapp’s message had an audio component, and inserted the stick into my comp.
I needn’t have bothered with the earplugs: the message was text files only. The first was a transfer order: Effective 1000 hours this date, Lieutenant Henrik Kooistra is transferred from the Inspector General’s Office to the Admiralty office, with a promotion to lieutenant commander. Transfer order signed by Admiral Franklin P. Knapp. The second was a computer access record: every file Matt and I had accessed this morning, the precise times they were accessed, and the narrowing trail leading to Kooistra. The third was an encrypted message, requiring my ident code to open; and it self-deleted as I read it: You had damned well better be this thorough in investigating Aames. And then the file was gone.
I looked the lieutenant right in the eye to see if she would blink. “I see. He’s too busy to meet with me.”
“He expresses his apologies,” she repeated.
“I’m sure he does.” I sighed. “All right, tell the admiral I appreciate his message. And here’s my message in response: I understand that he’s busy, and I understand how important this personnel transfer is. I am postponing his deposition at this time.”
“Postponing, Inspector?”
“Yes, postponing. Tell him that I reserve the right to depose him in the future as I see necessary in this case. When the time comes, I’ll expect him here in A Ring at my convenience. Tell him that exactly.”
“Yes, Inspector.”
“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”
Matt escorted the aide out of his office, and then he came back to mine. He looked at our display board. “I assume that does not end our mole hunt, Inspector?”
I smiled at him. I really did like how his mind worked. “Not on your l
ife, Matt. Knapp wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice one mole to protect another. Continue looking into the files of McCall and Decker, and oversee the repeat depositions for all three. In the meantime”—I looked at my comp—“it looks like I have a little unexpected time in my schedule. I should check my message queue. Keep me apprised of what you learn.”
“Yes, Inspector.” Matt returned to his office, and I folded the display board back down into a desk. Then I set Aames’s e-reader back on the corner. I had gotten used to having it there. It just seemed right.
I could’ve filled the opening Knapp’s strategic retreat left in my schedule with work, but I was still too edgy about the mole to concentrate. I hoped that going through my message queue would distract me and let me calm down so I could get back to work.
The queue hadn’t changed much from previous days, new messages but the same topics: more demands for updates from the Admiralty; notes from Reed’s office on our reports from the previous day; new crew depositions from my team; and a pile of reports on minor conflicts between the Admiralty guards and the Aldrin’s crew.
Then I found a surprise: a message from home. Father and Mother had kept their calls to a minimum, since they didn’t want to distract me from my work. Their most recent call had been during my convalescence, wishing me good health. Another call this soon was unusual for them, so I eagerly pulled it open.
But the look on Father’s face in his recording changed my mood from eager to worried. His hair was grayer than I remembered, reminding me that I hadn’t been downside to visit them in too long. And now I was on a voyage that meant over two years before I would see them again. For as long as I could remember, his face had been weathered from decades on the farm; but now it looked like wrinkled leather, with his eyes narrowed in concern.
The Last Dance Page 34