by Jolie Mason
Oxly closed the comm and approached her around the wide table and chairs. "Detective, I am sorry to see you go. Your file is impressive."
She nodded wordlessly, so he continued, "I know this was hard for you today. No one wanted to do his last call until you could attend."
She nodded again, shakily. "It was... No, it was good." Her voice broke on the end.
The Chief reached out to place his large hand on her shoulder. There was that dignity again.
His black hair curled in close to his head. Olive skinned and very attractive, he wore complementing colors and his shirt sleeves rolled up with no jacket. This made her think either he prized comfort or wasn't comfortable in a professional suit.
He offered strength and comfort in the storm, and she needed the comfort he offered badly today. Hayden gave him a weak smile and nodded. "It's not been easy, Chief."
He squeezed her shoulder. "It will never be easy, Detective. It can only be over. That's where our focus has to be. We will get the men who did this."
Hayden continued to follow her policy of saying little on the subject and simply nodded again. She politely responded to all the conversation she felt was socially required of her, then left the office feeling the wounds and the absence of Detective Randall Ace keenly.
By the time she entered her flat, she was tired from the long, emotional day.
A life size holo of Mary appeared in the foyer. She was holding her bag and smiling. "I'm going to book club. There is stir fry in the cooler, and I have the stunner. Stop frowning at me."
It blinked away as she realized she probably was frowning. It was possible she was being a little bit hyper-vigilant with Mary. Just a little. Mary seemed perfectly capable of circumventing her should she get out of hand with her overprotective streak, so Hayden decided not to worry about it just yet.
With a sigh, she headed into the airy, open kitchen where everything was white as virgin snow and put the flowers on the counter top. Maybe they should put some color in the place, she thought. Hayden hadn't cared much about things like that in the past, but maybe she should.
Maybe it mattered.
She pulled out a container and put it on a warmer near the stove. By the time, she showered it would be ready. Hayden pulled off her coat and hung it on a hook in the closet along with her bag.
The common area of the flat was just off the kitchen. It had sunken seating and a big holo projection TV. Modern, angular book shelves formed a wall above the back of the seating area, only, since Mary came, it was filled with books and sports memorabilia. Hayden found herself circling the "pit" as she liked to call it, and walking over to let her fingers linger over some of the things Mary had enshrined on the shelf.
There were pictures of the three of them, just like a family. Several antique world series baseballs were on display in the central case. She laughed as she came across his bowling trophies. He was far too proud of those things. The laughter turned to watery tears.
She shook it off and started to head to her bathroom where she would put herself together for Mary and wash away the day. The door was directly across from that picture of all of them.
She hadn't even made it to her bedroom door when the comm came through. She sighed. Half expecting Marry, she answered without checking the number. She said out of habit, "Thursday."
She didn't recognize the smooth, cultured voice that spoke to her. "Detective Thursday, or is it Ms. Thursday now?"
"Either works, I'm listed retired. Who is this?"
"Who I am is unimportant. What is important is that we negotiate a satisfactory end to our hostilities."
She went for her bag and the gun she kept there as she spoke. "I don't know you. How do we have hostilities if we don't know each other?"
Her goal was to keep him talking.
She checked the charge on the stun, then the mag. This weapon was large to carry, but useful in that it served two functions. She could incapacitate or kill. She went to the comm console nearest her position and hit the track command.
"I wouldn't bother to track the comm, Detective. It won't help," he said calmly.
"What are we supposed to be negotiating?"
"You are looking for a Dr. Romanov, are you not?"
She went silent a long moment. "Are you an associate of the doctor's?"
"We can call me a... former patron. I made an acquisition from the doctor, and he took liberties with our working relationship that cannot be repeated. Detective Thursday, I know you have suffered great losses over this business, and I know you're probably looking for justice. What if I can give it to you?"
"I'm listening," she answered while peeking around the window shields she'd had installed recently.
"The explosion at the Plaza was not sanctioned by my organization, Detective. It was the work of one man, Dr. Romanov. I can give you closure on that issue."
She laughed bitterly, "And what do you want in return?"
"To honestly make amends."
"That almost sounded sincere," she said.
"I'm a businessman, Detective, not a monster. Romanov killed hundreds and endangered my enterprise. An attack like that is not in my interest, I assure you."
She let the gun fall to her side. "And what exactly are your interests?"
"This was never any more than a research production effort. I am in R & D, Detective. We aren't terrorists."
"But, you are killers?" she asked.
"Mr. Murphy's reaction to the experiment was regrettable."
"Oh, it will be," she said grimly.
"That's what I'm trying to stop, Detective. I admire you. You have been a fine officer, a public servant of the community, as am I. I don't want to hurt you any more than you have already been."
She smiled, standing alone in the middle of the apartment now. "But, you will," she said, knowing it was true. He may sound like a fair and virtuous man, but Hayden could hear the determination, the fire in his words. He would kill and call it justified.
"To complete my work, yes, I will. It would also be regrettable, Detective. I am asking you to take my gift and let this go."
"Your gift?"
"I can give you Romanov. In fact, I will give you Romanov because that is what is right, Detective. I do what is right. I'm a servant of the people, as you are. This isn't about hurting people. It's about protecting our nation in a time of growing global instability. It's about doing what others are unwilling to do."
"And, just what is that?"
"No, Detective," he said. "I won't give you anything beyond the gift that is about to arrive at your door in a few minutes. Go down and see it. We'll call it a late Christmas present."
"Is this a threat?" She tensed again. "The last gift I got from your organization nearly killed me."
"And, for that I am deeply, deeply sorry, Detective. You don't know how much. It should never have happened, and I take full responsibility for that. This organization does not condone that senseless loss of life. I wish you well, Detective, and, also, that we may never meet."
The comm went dead with a beep. Thursday stood there on high alert, astounded and confused at the entire conversation. The thing was; She thought he was actually sincere.
He meant it, she believed. The plaza, the doctor, even Tanner, she believed he regretted those losses, though he might consider Tanner to be collateral damage. There was an organized effort to acquire and expand the capability of the cloning technology, and now, she had a clue. A fucking clue, she thought smiling like a house cat with a mouse trapped in a corner.
I'm a businessman...
And, she would find him. She looked out the window again seeing lights approaching on the now darkening streets. Snow had begun to fall again in big flat flakes. A cab pulled up to the curb, and she worried that it could be Mary returning early.
She rushed out of the flat and took the stairs to the first floor. She kept her weapon at her side.
As she exited the building, the cold was dry and deep. She shivered a
s the first wave of the chill hit her and took her breath. The cab didn't appear to have opened, but sat in idle. She raised her weapon to point it at the car. A shadowy form hunched in the front seat on the passenger side.
She kept her weapon aimed at what would be someone's head, she believed, and the weapon was not on stun. Hayden was through playing with these guys. They came after her, her family, her friends. She had no constraints now beyond the same laws everyone followed.
She reached for the door and pushed the exit button that blended in easily with the dirty paint job which was about as white as the dirty snow already in the gutters. It hissed and popped open a fraction. Holding her weapon at the ready in her good hand, she used the bad one to pull the door open.
Romanov slumped over the retracted steering wheel staring at her with sightless eyes and a hole in his forehead. Executed.
All that talk of justice, but she wasn't stupid. That's not what this was. This was a cover up, however the caller tried to dress it up in white robes. It was meant to appease her, to make her stop looking.
A small audio pod lay on the seat beside the doctor. She walked around the car to the driver's side and reached in to pick up the pod. She hit play.
The same voice slid from the pod that she'd heard on the phone.
"Detective, I hope you take this gift in the spirit it is intended. I am sincere in my desire to do you no further harm. On Romanov's home computer, the authorities will find his verbal confession explaining his guilt and remorse. Also, it will explain his decision to turn himself in to the lone survivor of the unit who had been hunting him. It will be a great story, and only you and I will ever know the truth of it."
She clutched the pod tighter, and turned with a disgusted sound, cursing loudly at the empty street. He was right. She wouldn't tell anyone because they wouldn't follow this, or there were probably safeguards in place among the police.
"Damn it, who are you?" she muttered angrily. She looked around at the snowfall drifting innocently onto the sidewalk and street. The smart streets were jet black with brilliantly marked traffic lines and a ridge down the middle that communicated with the navsys, and they were empty, filled only with fresh snow and a blustering breeze.
Those streets stretched coldly in either direction with no one on them at all. She looked at the body and cursed again, shutting the doors on the car.
The Voice on the Comm acted like he was doing her a favor, but he wasn’t. He’d just cut a loose string, and removed her chance at finding answers through Romanov.
Why kill the entire kinder cluster? What were they trying to hide? Oh, she believed Romanov was responsible for her cluster of murders, but there were six other people who had died long before. Their murderers were still out there.
Hayden realized she was freezing as her jaw began to clench and her teeth chatter.
Shivering, she walked back up the stairs, retrieved her coat and then went back down to wait for the police she was about to call. She took out the Chief's comm line. He'd written it on the card with the flowers.
"Thursday, I'm glad you called." He did sound glad.
She grunted. "You might not be in a minute. I have a body to report."
"You what?" he sounded disturbed, and she could hear him pulling on his clothes.
She gritted her teeth as she told the lie she would have to tell, at least until she found Gray. "It would appear Romanov killed himself and had himself delivered to my door."
"He did what?" he exploded, but before she could say anything else. "Don't move. I'm coming to you. Dial 999 and get the scene secured. Please," he added as he must have remembered she didn't work for him.
"That's my next call. I just thought you would want to see this."
They ended the comm, and she hit 999 on her wrist comm.
"What is the nature of your emergency?"
"My name is Detective Hayden Thursday, badge number retired H-5912. I am calling to report a homicide."
After taking her address, the dispatcher assured her help was on the way, and Hayden hung up against protocol. She had slipped the pod into her pocket. Now, she let it dangle in her fingers as she puzzled over what she could possibly do to catch this guy.
Multi-step plan, remember? She reminded herself that finding Gray took priority. If she found Gray, she might find these guys. Who knew? God knows what he was up to when he ditched her, Hayden thought, feeling pain she couldn't afford to feel bloom in her chest.
Maybe, he'd had a good reason. Maybe he hadn't, but it hurt either way that she'd needed someone. She'd needed him, and he'd been chasing something else.
She reminded herself for the thousandth time that they hadn't even gotten started. She had no right to expect him to be here for her. Yet, she knew he was in trouble, and that was unacceptable.
Police arrived and started handling the scene, and she was allowed to go with an officer into the small, unmanned lobby of her building. She was warming up on the lone bench there when the Chief showed up.
He was an uncommonly handsome man, dressed in an elegant black overcoat that hit below his knees. His jaw was squared off and manly paired with dark eyes and dark skin. He shaved often, she thought judging by the stubble on his chin now. He entered the lobby and dismissed the officer.
"Hayden, are you all right?" he asked, concerned.
"I'm fine, Chief," she answered.
He frowned at her and said, "Call me Sam."
She nodded.
He looked back out at the now thickly falling snow. "Forensics will tell us if the story fits your theory, but I agree with your assessment. We have homicide on this to be sure. They're getting a warrant for the residence as we speak."
Where they would find his faux confession, she thought. Oh, Romanov had done it. The monster probably deserved worse than he got, but he wasn't the end of the mystery, not by a long shot.
Oxly looked back to her with sympathy. "Detective, you've had one hell of a week."
"I have," she agreed. "That severance should have come with hazard pay." The joke fell flat to her ears, but he smiled kindly.
His steady gaze on her made her feel analyzed, so she quickly tried to divert his attention. "How is the department shaping up? Are you getting the team you wanted?"
"No," he said baldly. "Not even remotely, but I'm getting the team that's available. That blast destroyed us. We lost good men and women to that madness." His anger was palpable in the air, and it found an echo in her own burning fury.
They had lost too many. Neither of them said anything that would interrupt their own thoughts, until Officer Jackson of the forensics unit said the transport was being towed. They hadn't moved fast enough. Mary came barreling through the door shortly after.
"What's going on, Hayden?" Mary would have to know something.
She put her hands on Mary's shoulders. "It's not dangerous. It appears to be connected to an old case of mine. There's no immediate danger, Mary."
The Chief backed her up. "We can't give you details, ma'am, but I assure you that you and Hayden are perfectly safe."
Mary pursed her lips and pulled her purse up her arm. "I don't like this, Hayden. Not a bit."
Hayden looked at the Chief. "Nobody does, Mare. It's part of being a cop."
"Well, thank god, you're not a cop anymore, then," she fussed and closed the top button on Hayden's coat like she was a toddler.
"Go on up, Mary. I'll be up when I'm done with the Chief."
Thankfully, Mary gave her the space she was asking for just then. It was her superpower to know when to let Hayden run and when to rein her in.
As she left, a tiny ball of fury in a thick winter coat, the Chief smiled at Hayden. "I was worried, you know?"
"About what?"
"That you were dealing with all this on your own, but I see I needn't have been concerned at all."
Wryly, Hayden glanced back up the now empty stairs. "No, believe me, I'm handled."
He laughed. "I can see that, but, Hayden, I m
eant what I said today. If you need anything or you just need to talk, I'm here."
Surprised, she looked up at the new chief of police for MPD who seemed like a good leader of men and a great replacement. "I appreciate that," she said to him. "I think you're going to do well, Sam."
He gave her a quick smile. "Thank you as well, Hayden Thursday. I appreciate the vote of confidence."
Sam Oxly reached out a hand to her which she took. Her hands were still cold, but his were warm and somewhat comforting. "I've got your comm number, Sam."
He nodded and was gone.
Hayden turned and faced the stairs as if she was going to firing squad. Mary was not going to be all that reassured, and she always seemed to know when there was more to the story. Hayden marched up the stairs slowly, wondering how she'd continue this lie face-to-face with the human lie detector.
CHAPTER EIGHT
*
Being in the newly built, more modern precinct was as difficult for her as it had been the last time. Comms chimed and the sounds of a workplace buzzed through her head, reminding her of her days working cases and protecting the city. Hayden walked past all the open design desk pods facing each other and thought how Ace would have hated this place.
Chairs were placed strategically around monitors and work areas. There seemed to be a centralized area in the middle with a screen and the highest tech progress board she'd ever seen. Every section, every piece of furniture was arranged for maximum efficiency. It almost seemed like it was designed to manipulate the officers and detectives into working faster, working better. Maybe it was.
She shook her head. Solving cases didn't only depend on evidence gathering or a logical arrangement of facts. One had to have a working understanding of people, and that she didn't see in this room. She saw potted plants and visual boards and Sat-net feeds, but none of that was more than a tool. She wondered briefly what kind of officers her friends had been replaced with. Were they logical or intuitive? Old or young?