“He had long-running gigs at Bounce nightclub and Little Minx.”
Salvi had just been talking with Bronte about Bounce, as that was the club near where the body behind the dumpster had been found, but she racked her brain trying to place where she’d heard Little Minx before.
“Both Little Minx and Bounce were two of the clubs cleaned by the victims in the Kelto’s Diner shooting,” Riverton said, as though reading her mind.
“And Little Minx is also one of Lance Chaney’s clubs,” Kara said.
“Yes, Detective Shadid,” Riverton said. “However, I have further news. Clarence Jabbour’s body was found this morning in his apartment.”
Those present exchanged a surprised glance.
“Shit,” Bronte said.
“Cause of death?” Ford asked, clenching her jaw.
“It appears to be a drug overdose.”
“Fyte?” she asked.
“No. Initial reports indicate heroin. Detective Grenville says that no other drugs were found present at the scene.”
Salvi felt a tug of concern at the sound of Mitch’s name. She wondered how he was doing. She hadn’t had time to speak with him since Caine’s death as everything had happened so fast.
“We are awaiting toxicology to see if any was in the man’s blood stream,” Riverton reported. “However, Detective Grenville does not believe the overdose was accidental, as the man has fresh bruising that appears to be that of defense wounds.”
“They’re not from his fight over the parking space?” Bronte asked.
“No, Detective Bronte. It looks as though the wounds were made at the time of this death.”
“Sounds to me like he was silenced,” Salvi said looking at Bronte.
“Anything else, Riverton?” Ford asked.
“Yes,” Riverton replied. “Detectives Beggs and Hernandez spoke to Vincent Calabri about his movements on the night of Devon Barker’s murder. He has admitted to being in the area but denies any involvement in Barker’s death. Credit card activity and witnesses confirm his alibi. So far we have no other evidence to link him to the crime.”
“His DNA isn’t in the system to match with the Barker scene?” Salvi asked.
“Unfortunately no,” Riverton said. “Would you like me to obtain a warrant for this, detective?”
“No,” Ford answered for her. Salvi looked at her. “I’ve read your files,” Ford said. “We don’t have enough evidence. If you think there’s a possible connection to Francis Mellon and beyond to boss John Dorant, we need more evidence.”
Salvi nodded reluctantly.
“I have more to report, detective lieutenant,” Riverton stated.
“Go ahead.”
“I believe I have uncovered something further in the Langford case.”
“The auto accessory guy?” Salvi asked.
“Yes, detective. I previously reported to Detectives Grenville and Caine that there had been a $5M payment to an offshore account. I have traced this further and discovered that Mr. Langford had recently become a partner in a club called Hasties.”
Ford nodded. “I know the place. It’s basically a high-class strip joint.”
“That’s not the interesting fact, detective lieutenant,” Riverton said. “What is interesting is that his partner is Reeves Morgan, who owns Bounce nightclub.”
“Bounce?” Bronte said. “So that’s three links now. The Langford case, The Kelto’s Diner case and the dead DJ.”
“Yes, detective. Also Detective Grenville has not been able to make contact with Mr. Morgan for questioning. It seems that no-one has seen or heard from Mr. Morgan in several days.”
Salvi nodded. “These aren’t random killings. These were intentional. Targeted.”
“Maybe,” Ford said. “Langford’s murder feels targeted and Reeves Morgan’s disappearance is definitely suspect, but I still feel the Kelto’s Diner murders and the dumpster DJ case are probably results of people using Fyte and spinning out of control.”
“So if Kelto’s Diner and the DJ are linked to Fyte, and both those cases have links to Bounce nightclub, shouldn’t we be sending undercovers in there?” Salvi asked.
“Already on it,” Sorensen said. “I’ve got Farrugia and Burke heading in there tonight.”
“So are we thinking that these drugs started at Floor to Ceiling with Flyte,” Bronte said, “then leaked out to Bounce as Fyte?”
“Quite possibly,” Sorensen said.
“It’s sounding very much like a turf war,” Kara said.
“So how does Caine and the Chief’s daughter fit in with this?” Salvi asked.
“That’s what you need to find out,” Ford said.
“Yes, detectives,” Riverton said. “And you must not forget that we still have several cases linking to Floor to Ceiling, namely the photographer, Barker, the Kelto’s Diner deaths of Delroy and Williams who cleaned at the club – and of course Detective Caine and Clare Garrett who were last seen alive entering the club. Also, Detective Brentt, I have identified street footage that confirms that Myki Natashi and Devon Barker attended Floor To Ceiling the night he died.”
“They did?” Salvi straightened.
“Yes, detective. They left the club just after ten o’clock. Ms. Natashi appeared quite inebriated. She required Mr. Barker’s help into the autocab.”
“So they left Floor To Ceiling, went home to their apartment for a few hours before Barker was killed,” Salvi locked eyes with Ford, who turned her eyes back to Riverton.
“The cleaners killed at Kelto’s Diner are the only ones who link the two clubs,” Ford thought aloud, “because they cleaned both.”
“And I have found one more link,” Riverton said. “There was a case several weeks ago that Detectives Grenville and Caine worked on. It was a stabbing in the Sensation that appeared to be a robbery.”
“What about it?” Ford asked.
“I have not linked the victim to either club as yet, however, until two years ago, he was a doorman who worked security at several clubs across the Sensation.”
“What do you mean until two years ago?” Ford asked. “Clarify.”
“I have not been able to locate any details after that date. He seems to have disappeared from working society altogether, however he has received no government support either.”
Salvi looked at Ford. “Sounds like he was working for someone who paid cash, wanting to stay off the radar.”
“Looks like it,” she said.
“His boss could maybe be responsible for all this,” Kara said. “If his death was several weeks ago, he might’ve been our first death that links all of this. What if he was the one who caused the spread of the drugs to Bounce?”
Sorensen shrugged. “It’s sounding to me like the Bounce crew were trying to muscle in on Floor to Ceiling. We definitely can’t rule out a turf war, but we need a lot more evidence first. There’s still a lot of missing pieces of the puzzle.”
“Thank you Riverton. End request,” Ford said, as the hologram of Riverton disappeared. She looked around at the team. “Sorensen is right. And we had two more deaths overnight.”
“Shit,” Bronte said. “What were they?”
“One was a violent mugging. The victim was beaten to death. We’re waiting on the autopsy results, but Grenville thinks the vic may have had neural devices stolen from him.”
“Just external devices?” Salvi asked. “Or linked to implants?”
Ford shrugged. “Waiting on the autopsy. The other death was the result of a fight that broke out between a doorman and patron trying to enter a club called Slackjaw. The doorman was stabbed.”
“Jesus…” Salvi said.
“This is only going to get worse,” Ford said. “We gotta stop that Fyte hitting the streets and figure out who’s behind it.”
Kara shrugged. “It has to be a turf war, right? When the rich were doing their Flyte in their secret clubs there were no problems, because it was kept to an elite few. Now someone reengineered it and le
t it out, all hell is breaking loose. I think those who have been killed had something to do with the drug leaking onto the streets, and whoever was involved in the original Flyte production is cleaning house before their secret gets dragged into the spotlight.”
“I’m concerned about the neural devices,” Salvi said. “Barker photographed someone on the Ceiling wearing them, and, when we found Myki Natashi at the crime scene, she had these indents at her temples like something had been pressed there into the skin.” She looked at Bronte. “The tech owner in the ‘Mission was murdered for no apparent reason.” She looked back to Ford. “Now Mitch thinks the guy last night was killed because neural devices were stolen from him.”
“Maybe that’s why they call this new drug an experience,” Noble said, the Cyber head finally speaking up. “Maybe that’s what makes it so special. It’s not just the drug use, but the drug used in cohesion with the neural tech.”
Subjugate-52 flashed into Salvi’s mind; the green glow upon his face, highlighting his neural device halo, which in turn picked up the flashing red of his personal alarm — the tech and the drugs used to control him.
“Food for thought,” Ford said, then gave a long exhale. “Alright, go rest up, then get ready to hit the club again. We’ll keep working the angles while you do.”
They moved to leave, but Ford caught Salvi’s arm to stop her. Salvi looked at her but saw she was waiting until the others left.
“What is it?” Salvi asked once they were alone.
“The new psych at the Solme Complex called again. He wishes to speak with you. He’s getting insistent.”
“Well, he’ll have to wait. I’m a little busy here.”
“That’s what I told him, but I too have better things to do than be a messenger for you, Brentt. So call the guy and get him off my back.”
Salvi sighed. “Alright. I will.”
Ford tapped her iPort, sending the information. “There, you got his number. If he calls me again, you’re gonna hear about it.”
“I’ll call him,” she reassured her.
Ford nodded and they moved for the door.
“How’s Grenville taking things?” Salvi asked.
Ford looked at her.
“Caine was his partner,” Salvi said quickly. “That’s gotta be hard to take.”
“Well you were with him that night, weren’t you? You saw how he took it.”
Salvi stared at Ford, who quickly held her hand up to stop Salvi from answering.
“I don’t care what you’re doing with Grenville, Brentt. Just keep your mind on your job. Alright? Both of you. Or you will get yourselves or someone else killed.”
Salvi watched Ford walk out the door, then slowly followed.
Salvi, exhausted, entered the apartment, with Bronte close behind. He headed straight for his bedroom and closed the door. Salvi made her way to her room, grabbed her iPort and lenses from the safe and moved to the bathroom. She took one look at herself in the mirror; the barely-there dress, the slightly smeared make-up, the tiredness that lingered in her eyes. She leaned on the bathroom sink and sighed. She wasn’t looking forward to having to do it all over again that evening.
She washed the makeup off her face, studied the practically faded scratches on her neck, then strapped on the iPort, popped her lenses in and the comms earpiece. She found the message from Ford and called the number, watching in the mirror as her lenses clouded a transparent silver as the call connected.
A man of East Asian origin stared back at her.
“Detective Brentt. Finally,” Doctor Fen said measuredly.
“I’m sorry for the delay,” she said a little sarcastically, “but I’ve had murders to solve.”
“Yes, well, I’m glad you’ve finally called me, because I have Subjugates to treat.”
“What do you want?”
“Well, first and foremost, I’d like to discuss Subjugate-52.”
“What about him?”
“What about him?” he sounded surprised.
“I take it he’s recovering from his gunshot wound?”
“Yes, physically he is fine. Emotionally, however, I believe he’s had a setback in his treatment. He’s essentially been left traumatized by what happened.”
“Getting shot can do that to a person.”
“I’m not talking about the gunshot. I’m talking about you, detective, and what you promised him.”
Salvi stared at Fen. “I’m sorry, what? What I promised him?”
Fen stared at her. “You don’t even know what you’ve done, do you?”
“Enlighten me, but make it quick,” she said, the tiredness smacking at her.
“You promised Subjugate-52 he would become a Serene. You said that you would ensure he would become a Serene if he helped you. He helped you, and now he wants to know why he hasn’t transitioned to a Serene yet.”
“Well, you’re the authority on that. Why hasn’t he become a Serene? Is it because he was a violent serial killer rapist who was supposed to be put to death because his crimes were so heinous, and maybe that’s gonna take a little work to fix?”
“He’s not that person anymore,” Fen said patiently.
“Then why hasn’t he transitioned yet?”
“Because,” Fen said, staring at her in all seriousness, “you encouraged him to find his violence again. We buried it deep inside him and you drew it out of him and made him use it. You encouraged him to break his Serenity. Now all the good work done on him has been un-done and we must start again.”
“What about your special implants?”
“They control and monitor the brain activity and hormones, yes. However, you triggered him to think for himself again. You encouraged him to expect reward for his violent actions. Now he is unsatisfied the reward has not come.”
“Then your treatment isn’t foolproof, and you need to start again and plug the holes. I make no apologies for using Subjugate-52 to help me take the Bountiful killer down.”
“I understand he was the only resource at hand, and you needed him, but you should never have promised him what you did.”
“I did what I had to do to survive and stop my perp from killing more innocent women.”
“Well we have a problem on our hands now. Because he keeps asking about you. Where you are, why you haven’t asked about his welfare, why you haven’t been to see him, why Detective Brentt promised he would become a Serene.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to start his treatment again. You know, the beatings, the shock therapy, the mind washing with religion.” Salvi scoffed a laugh. “And apparently this is all my fault.”
“Doctor Remmell and the Caretaker took things a step too far, granted,” Fen said, straightening his jacket, “but I’m here now to rein things in.”
“Yeah, and how does Attis Solme like that?”
“He likes keeping his complex open, so he will do what’s necessary to make that happen. Part of my remit here is to report to federal authorities. This complex is being much more closely watched now.”
Salvi stifled a yawn. “Great. Well, if you’re done with the admonishing–”
“I’m not here to admonish, detective,” Fen said. “I’m here to ask you to help me treat him.”
“Help?”
“Yes. I’d like you to record a video message I can play him. You will tell him he can still become a Serene, but in order to do that, he must undergo further treatment first. That he must be patient.”
“So you want to dangle me like a carrot in front of him, tell him if he’s a good boy, he’ll get what he wants.”
“We will word the video in such a way that it will be the final communication between you. I’m doing this to end this little… fixation… he has on you.”
“Fixation?” Salvi asked, noticing the hairs on her arms stand on end.
“We will stamp it out before it escalates.”
“Tell me something, doctor,” Salvi said, “how could Subjugate-52 possibly escalat
e if your treatment works?”
Fen stared at her a moment. “This man will be cured. The Solme Complex will ensure that. Now, I’ll send you the wording. Please send the video message as soon as you can.”
Fen ended the call and the silver sheen left Salvi’s eyes. She stared at herself in the mirror, pictured Subjugate-52 standing on the other side of it; tall, broad, the silver halo wrapped around his shaved skull. Then she pictured the Bountiful killer standing beside the Subjugate. She didn’t know which man terrified her more. The man with brutal tendencies or the man with formerly brutal tendencies, supposedly controlled by neural tech and drugs.
But was he really?
It had always bothered her just how easily Subjugate-52 had broken his serenity, but she’d pushed those feelings down because Subjugate-52 had come to her aid against the Bountiful killer. She knew their halos were predominately used to measure activity in certain areas of the brain, mainly as a warning system, and only to control them in extreme cases. If Subjugate-52 was not fully controlled and now had this ‘fixation’, what did this mean for her?
She’d studied Subjugate-52’s file in depth. Edward Moses had been an incredibly violent killer and one who had a very high IQ. He was finally caught by police only because he’d wanted to be caught. Was he playing the ultimate mind game with the Solme Complex, pretending to be cured when he wasn’t, to limit the torture, to gain access to the outside world again? Was he still Edward Moses beneath the façade, or had he really become Subjugate-52? Was he still the caterpillar, or had he really become the butterfly?
She stepped under the shower wanting to wash her mind of these thoughts. She closed her eyes as the hot water ran over her skin. All the while Subjugate-52’s halo stuck in her mind. She thought about the neural implant technology of the halo, how it monitored and controlled their behavior. Then she recalled the brief footage from Barker’s studio again. She pictured the woman who’d been wearing the neural device, saw the women raising their glasses on the Ceiling, throwing their long hair back, having a great time. Then she thought how ironic it was that the Subjugates were being forced to wear their halos while there were civilians in the city voluntarily wearing neural devices to get their kicks.
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