“Dammit, we’ll never make it through all this,” Bertram complains.
You look out the window. The skyscrapers of the business district seem like a distant mountain range. “Maybe he can come meet us halfway?”
With a thud-thud-thud, the rotors of a helicopter beat the air into submission above you. You can’t help but duck forward to look up—there goes the aircraft, flying toward downtown.
Bertram spots something else outside the SUV and points a finger toward it to get your attention. It’s a billboard, and the ad looks much like one for an airline back home. The well-manicured pilot with bronze skin, perfect hair, and a crisp uniform smiles at you with a bleached, toothy grin. There’s a phrase in Portuguese and a phone number printed in the foreground, but behind him, where his open hand ushers you, is a helicopter, glorious and blue like the sky.
“Air taxi,” Bertram announces.
• “Heli-yes! Does the guy’s office have a helipad?”
• “Yeah, I was thinking maybe a public park or a café.”
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Good Cop
“Oh dear….” The man says, looking down and touching his forehead. “You know, Viktor had grown paranoid over the last few weeks—or at least I thought he was being paranoid. I guess he might have been right.”
“Paranoid? Please elaborate,” Agent Bertram prompts, removing a small notebook from his jacket.
“He thought people were following him, said he was in danger and didn’t know who he could trust.”
“Start at the beginning,” you say.
“Well, he’s done some visiting lectures here. Viktor is a brilliant engineer and researcher and I sincerely believed he would change the world.” The word “believed” sticks out to you. Past tense. You make a mental note as the man continues, “He was selected to share his newest findings at the Energy Summit here in Rio. That’s why I had seen him recently—normally he travels and maintains a lab in Europe. Germany, I believe.”
“And when was the last time you saw him?” Bertram asks.
“Just last week. I had let him use some lab space. There are several algae cultures growing down there. Usually we let the students intern on such projects, but this time Viktor insisted—no one in or out but him.”
You share a look with Bertram. “We’d like to see the lab,” he says.
The professor nods, rising, and leads you out of the office.
As you walk, he continues, “His first concern was that someone had been hacking into his computer. He questioned me on our network security, and I assured him that a breach was impossible. As part of their curriculum, our Computer Science Department has students run an active network security protocol that is closely monitored by the professors. Our computer network is globally recognized as one of the most secure in Brasil.
“Still, he unplugged his LAN connection on all of the terminals and proceeded only to transfer data via hard disk. It seemed like a bit much to me at the time, but you know the old cliché about brilliant men and their eccentricities. That’s how I knew I’d never be an Einstein; I’m not strange enough.” He chuckles, amused by his little joke, then says, “Ah, here we are.”
Professor Tavares-Silva checks the clipboard hanging by the door, then uses a key from his pocket to open the door. As he heads in, you check the clipboard: it shows Viktor’s signature, signing in and out of the lab several times on the sheet. The last entry was six days ago.
“Meu Deus!” the professor cries from inside the room.
You rush in, eager to see what’s happening, but all you see is an empty room. There’s literally nothing in here.
“It’s all gone!” he confirms.
“What? What exactly was in here?”
“I—I don’t know. Big tanks of algae, computer terminals lining the walls, books, journals, printers. This was a fully functioning research lab.”
“Who else has a key?” you ask.
“There are only two. I keep a copy with me, then the professor in charge of the project keeps another that students normally check out. In this case, Viktor kept the second copy.”
“I think we’d better head to his apartment,” Bertram says.
• Get going!
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Gopher
You figure he’s the boss, and for your first day you’ll play nice. But he’d better not push it too much; you’re not getting paid, after all. So you head out to the coffee station (which you passed on the way to the detective’s office) to get Danly his coffee. You can hear him talking to Irma from within her office, but there are enough distracting noises from the cubicles nearby that you can’t make out their words.
When you head back in, whatever conversation they were having is now over. Danly nods as you hand him the warm Styrofoam cup—that’s all the thanks you’ll get—and he blows against the lip of the cup to cool the beverage.
• Continue the investigation.
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Grounded
Bertram calls the Energy Summit guy, talking to his secretary first. Eventually, he strikes a deal with the man and hangs up. He takes the next highway exit and, while traffic is still crazy, at least it slightly abates on the side roads.
“What’d he say?” you ask.
“He’s going to take the air taxi. We’re going to find a drive-thru coffee shop and meet him at a nearby park.”
“They let helicopters land in parks?” you ask.
Bertram shrugs.
Using his smart phone’s navigation tools, Bertram takes you through—big surprise—a Starbuck’s. He orders a candied coffee mocha-chocolata-yaya for himself, and a venti green tea for the executive. After you place your order and pay, the agent drives the SUV to a large public park. He finds a shady spot to wait.
There’s no helipad here, and Bertram just leans against the parked vehicle, taking sips of whipped cream without concern. It’s not long before that thundering sound of a helicopter beating the air into submission returns. This time, it’s headed toward you. You follow the aircraft with your head, over toward an unused soccer field, where it starts to set down.
“Come on!” Bertram yells.
He grabs the green tea and jogs toward the helicopter. It’s not far, and you run to keep up. The rotor blade whips air at you, all the debris of the parking lot coming with it. You have to shield your eyes from the pebbles as the helicopter lands. If you were expecting something out of Black Hawk Down, this aircraft is comparably tiny; akin to a traffic helicopter you’ve seen on the news back home. It’s almost all windshield and propeller, with just barely enough room for the pilot and three passengers. Slowly the blades slow their pace, and eventually the pilot comes out to greet you.
It’s a woman. She wears an official uniform, just like the one on the billboard, but she’s comparably tiny herself. Surprisingly petite, she must be just over five feet tall and maybe a hundred pounds. Yet she grins with confidence and her radiance is more than the man on the poster could muster at thirty feet tall.
“Olá, bom dia, I’m Maria Rodrigues Igor,” she says, using the Portuguese greeting. “You are the Americans?”
You nod, and she hands you a business card.
“Call if you ever need a ride,” she says with a wink. “I’ll go fetch your associate.”
Before you can answer, she’s off and returning to the helicopter. You watch as she opens the door for Italo Fellini, your contact for the Energy Summit and head of Futuro Verdejante.
• Find a picnic table for your meeting.
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
GTA
There must be a helmet law in Rio, because even in their shorts and t-shirts, all the riders wear helmets. You’ve made out your mark—a man on a dirt bike with a package securely tied around the rear of the motorcycle. He puts the bike in neutral (you can tell this because he releases the clutch to put both hands on his hips at the stoplight) and now he’s yours.
Coming from behind, you grab his shirt a
nd pull him off the bike laterally. He’s completely unsuspecting, so you easily pull him down in one clean jerk. He thuds to the pavement and his helmet bounces off the concrete road. Good thing there’s that helmet law. This leaves him in a temporary daze, and provides you the opportunity to exit.
You leap on the bike, squeeze the clutch, and step into first gear. Cranking the throttle, you weave through the pylons toward the parking garage. The pedestrian traffic flees with screams of terror at your arrival. The guards, however, do not. Even as you’re rocketing toward the garage, they’re pulling out their sidearms. This is gonna be close.
• Punch it!
• Swerve toward the nearest guard. He can’t shoot me if I’m running him over…
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
“Guests”
The rainstorm beats against the windows in great gales. You’re in a private room on the second floor where, once disarmed, you were escorted and then left alone with a change of clothes. Maria and Bertram were shown to their own quarters, so you’re here by yourself.
This isn’t a fancy guestroom. No foreign dignitaries will be put up here. The Sugar King must have other lodgings for entertaining his friends and colleagues. If you had to guess, this might be where the security guards sleep. There’s not much more than a bed and a television.
At length, you’re summoned.
O Rei do Açúcar—Governor Mateo Ferro—is waiting for you on the main floor, just beneath the stairs. Bertram and Maria are right behind you as you begin to descend. The Sugar King brings a glass of red wine to his lips, then smiles. His teeth are stained crimson, giving him a vampiric quality.
“Ah, much better. Feeling refreshed, yes?” the man booms. “I should like to have offered you a feast, but I’m afraid you’ve caught me unprepared. I do, however, keep some fine wine on hand for when investors visit. It would be a pleasure to share my finest vintage with you.”
He gestures to a servant who has three glasses on a tray. “As the saying goes, ‘If you cannot serve good food, at least serve good wine.’”
He bellows in laughter.
• Might as well. Don’t want to insult your host just yet.
• Refuse. You’ve got to keep your wits about you.
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Gung Ho!
She looks at you with grave seriousness. “Okay, but know this—there is nothing more dangerous than trying to expose police corruption. If Lucio gets wind of it, next time he’ll take you to the most violent slum he can find. Then he’ll leave you there and pay a bounty for your head. That is, of course, if your hunch is right.”
You nod in understanding.
“One more thing—just because we’re not driving an armored car, doesn’t mean we’re not in danger. I want you to take this.” She produces the revolver from the crime scene, the gun that originally sat by the pick me up note. You were already cleared of the crime, but the grave implications of possessing such a weapon can’t be denied. Could she be trying to re-pin the crime on you? Why would she offer you their one lethal clue?
Seeing your eyes grow wide, she says, “This is a condition of my assistance. If things go bad, I need you to have my back. On short notice, this is the only gun I can get you—it’s still checked out to me as evidence, so no one will miss it. What do you say, still feeling brave?”
When she says “still,” it comes out with her accent as “steel,” and that’s what she offers right now: a cold, hard steel revolver, so dark and ominous you can feel your heat being sucked away by it.
• “I’m in. Give me the piece.”
• “Never mind… how about dinner and you drop me off?”
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Happy Reunion
Viktor and Jane walk through the village hand in hand, laughing, smiling, and enjoying a moment together. You watch as they stroll along the jungle’s border, as do many of the villagers.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Dr. Susan Brandon says.
“What’s that?” you ask.
“Love. Real, true love. I see it here in the tribe and it really shows you what’s important in life.”
She starts walking in the opposite direction as the happy couple, evidently expecting you to follow.
“How about a Brazil nut?” she says. “They come in plastic bags in the supermarket, but you might be surprised at how they look in the wild.”
She picks up what appears to be a large coconut from a pile and cracks it open against a rock, revealing a cluster of Brazil nuts inside.
“Technically, this is a fruit and these are the seeds. Not a nut at all, in the true sense.”
“Pretty big seeds,” you say, taking one.
“Indeed,” she laughs. “Sort of makes the fruit feel prehistoric, doesn’t it?”
You look at the familiar “nut” in a new light. In the traditional American experience, the natural home for Brazil nuts was inside a Christmas stocking. She crushes one of the seeds between two rocks, taking out the white flesh from within and handing the rock to you. As you crush your own seed, you look out over the village. In a clearing, several children kick a soccer ball.
“Soccer all the way out here?” you say.
Dr. Brandon smiles. “Football, but yes. This is Brazil, after all. Want to see something you won’t see the kids doing in the city?”
You nod and she leads you over to another group of children who appear to be playing with a kitten. They tap sticks on the ground, willing it to run, but when it does, you realize it’s not a kitten at all. The children laugh and shriek, fleeing from a gigantic tarantula.
“Goliath birdeater,” Dr. Brandon informs. “Commonly described as being the size of a dinner-plate.”
You watch as the children dash to and fro near the enormous spider. Enjoying the game of cat and mouse; or, in this case, the game of spider and bird.
“Not venomous?” you ask.
“Oh, it is. But not deadly. Like a wasp sting.”
A shiver runs down your spine. “I think it’s time to go. The Energy Summit is tonight, and there isn’t much time.”
“I think I can help,” she says. “Let’s go find your friends.”
• Go get Viktor and Jane.
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Hard-boiled
Irma looks impressed. With raised eyebrow she says, “You ever consider a job as a Rio cop? Maybe you should stick around here when you’re done.”
Then she slaps her pistol across the teenager’s face.
She asks him again, yelling now, her tones harsh and relentless. He spits once more, this time leaving a swath of red on the floor. This time, he talks.
“He says of course, they’ve all heard about her. The cops have already made their way through here with questions. What else do you want to ask him? We don’t have much time.”
• “Was it his gang who killed her?”
• “Let’s just go. If they’ve all heard about it, we can ask someone else.”
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Hard Drive
You wait in the corner, on pins and needles, your head pounding and holding your breath. You can feel your heartbeat in your temples and you’re so filled with anxiety that the room around you fades away until you see only the door.
A handgun with a long, black silencer breaches the doorway. Then comes the gloved hand carrying it, followed by a black suit-clad arm. Before you even know what you’re doing, you swing the laptop toward where a face will appear.
Sunglasses, blood, teeth, plastic and circuitry explode in a grisly fireworks show. The man thuds against the wall and you swing what remains of the laptop toward his nose. This time you bring it in horizontally, unlike the broad swing you first took, so all the force you can muster will use the flat edge of the notebook. This time, you knock him unconscious.
There’s nothing left of the computer; it’s now either embedded in his face or spread around the room and covered in blood. Without a second thought, you claim his handgun. Your finger is tight
around the trigger, with the weapon aimed at the door, when a second man in a black suit steps into the room and receives six holes in his chest, as you fire over and over again.
You quake with fear and adrenaline, unable to move and waiting for another target. What could be a few seconds or a few hours passes and eventually you move. These two men in black suits and black shirts almost certainly weren’t police. Brazilian mafia, maybe.
And now they’re both dead.
No one else remains in the duplex apartment, and what you came for is destroyed. Taking a towel from the bathroom, you wipe down the pistol to clear it of fingerprints—just like you’ve seen done on TV cop shows—and drop it on the floor between the two men. Time to go.
• Meet Viktor at the restaurant.
MAKE YOUR CHOICE
Hard Evidence
A policeman brings in a cardboard box, sets it on the desk, and Detective Dos Santos thanks him in Portuguese before he leaves. From within a drawer, she removes an evidence bag containing a revolver—the very same one from last night—and sets it on the desk in front of Danly. Your eyes focus on the blued steel as if magnetized. Something so small, yet so powerful….
“Serial number has been filed off, so we can’t track it,” she says.
“Mafia?”
MURDERED: Can YOU Solve the Mystery? (Click Your Poison Book 2) Page 15