by C. B. Lewis
Temple was working on the image they had from the field. It was less than two seconds, but the freeze-frame was enough to show the kind of terrain and flora. If she could pinpoint the position in relation to Sanders’s house, it would finally give them an origin point to look into.
That was the best they could hope for at present.
They’d gone through Sanders’s house with a fine-toothed comb. They’d opened up his computers and gone through his files. They had looked up his business records. Only one file mentioned his theory on teleportation some twelve years earlier, but there was nothing to suggest he’d pursued it.
With the information Kit had given them about the items they held as evidence, they had cleared up all the questions they had about the house itself. They didn’t have any excuse not to release the scene.
It bothered Jacob.
There was something at the house that they were missing, something he couldn’t put his finger on.
“Boss?”
He turned to look back at Anton. “Anything?”
“Just got word back from the Home Office.” Anton held out his slate. “You might want to take a look.”
There was a single file on the screen. Jacob tapped it, opening up the contents. The details related to one of the staff of the TRI, a man by the name of Janos Nagy. At first glance, there was nothing seriously incriminating: he’d first registered with the Home Office some three years earlier. He had paperwork and documentation confirming his current residency and domestic situation.
One thing did stand out.
Jacob frowned. “They have no record of his arrival in the country?”
“That’s what I noticed.” Anton rocked on the balls of his feet. “He’s an EU national. Hungarian. They’ve got right of movement in every EU member state.”
“So why didn’t he get checked at any of the standard arrival checkpoints?” Jacob finished, frowning. It wasn’t impossible for illegal immigrants to get into the UK under the radar, but for an EU national there was no reason to do it illegally unless you had something to hide. Jacob glanced up at Anton. “Do we have any cause to suspect involvement?”
“The fact that he showed up in the country and immediately started working for the TRI isn’t enough?”
Jacob nodded, looking down at the screen. There was an image of the man. He didn’t look like he was any kind of criminal, but more often than not, most criminals didn’t. Late thirties, computer technician, listed as residing with a partner.
“Get in touch with the Hungarian police and see if you can’t dig up his records.”
“Already done,” Anton replied. He flicked to the next file, and the correspondence.
Jacob stared at it, then looked up at Anton. “Is this correct?”
Anton nodded. “It can’t be a coincidence. First his attacker, now this guy.”
Jacob took the slate, rereading the confirmation from the Hungarian authorities. According to all data they held, there were no records of this particular Janos Nagy. They recommended checking that the name and dates were correct. Jacob frowned. Another person who had popped out of nowhere.
“I’ll call Ashraf to arrange a meeting with Ben.” He straightened up from the desk. “This way, I can see the Sanders boy and deal with questions about Nagy at the same time.”
“You think she’ll be any more helpful now we’ve got something on one of her people?”
Jacob shook his head. “She’s got a cool head. I think it would take a lot to rattle her.” He handed the slate back to Anton. “Good job finding it. Set up a side panel on the incident board with Nagy’s details. Not a suspect, but subject to enquiry.”
Anton nodded, heading back to his desk.
Jacob returned to his private office and dialed Mrs. Ashraf’s number. There was no reply, and the call redirected to someone claiming to be in the communication department.
“This is DI Ofori. I’m looking for Mrs. Ashraf.”
There was a momentary pause. “I’m sorry, sir,” the man on the other end of the line said. “Mrs. Ashraf will be unavailable this afternoon. I believe she is in a business meeting, and her quill is switched off.”
Jacob stifled a profanity under his breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please can you contact her when available and let her know to call me as soon as possible.”
“Of course, sir. Would you like to leave a message for her?”
“Just to call me,” he replied. He gave his number and added, “It’s important she calls as soon as possible.”
In hindsight, he should have expected it.
One of her staff had found the new evidence and seen the video footage. Kit would have recognized the doorway as something similar to Sanders’s constructions. Of course he would have gone straight back to the TRI and informed his superior.
Jacob leaned back in the chair, propping his elbows on the arms, and rested his lips against his folded fingers.
If Ashraf had called a meeting about the video, it meant there had to be something significant in it. Kit hadn’t said anything, but if it pertained to his employer, maybe he was under orders to keep it quiet. Wheels within wheels. Someone knew something, but they weren’t saying anything.
Kit had to know something.
Jacob grimaced.
He’d brought the other man in, even if it was only by chance. He’d practically gift-wrapped the evidence and presented it to him. Christ. If his superiors learned about that, especially now, he would be well and truly up shit creek without a paddle.
And Kit was the reason the rest of the footage was lost.
Jacob’s heart sank.
Surely he wouldn’t have messed around with it.
Surely Tisha would have noticed if he had.
Kit was an honest person. He blushed when he tried to lie. He stammered. He had so many tells that it was almost unfair to put him on the spot. When he’d left the station, he had been whey-faced and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like crap and said it was all down to the concentration of coding. Jacob believed it. You couldn’t fake looking that bad. But what if it wasn’t just the coding?
Jacob stared blankly at the door.
How the hell was he meant to deal with that? If he tried to bring it up with anyone, if he implied that he suspected Kit had tampered with evidence, then Kit would be hauled in for questioning. That could lead to a shitstorm of epic proportions. If Kit were accused of any crime, all he would need to do was mention the fact that he’d slept with the officer in charge and the case against him would be thrown out.
Jacob could lose his job, his position, his reputation, all because he hadn’t got any in months, and a good-natured, amiable young man had paid him attention.
He buried his head in his hands.
It couldn’t just be simple.
Chapter 18
KIT WAS disorientated when he woke up and the sun was setting.
It was only a couple of hours since he’d fallen into the bed, as far as he could tell, but it had helped, even if his sleep had been crowded with all kinds of strange dreams.
He sat in the middle of the bed, staring blankly at the rumpled sheets. He could remember Jacob tangled up in them, and no matter how fit Jacob was, he knew it couldn’t happen again.
Maybe Jacob had needed him because he was an expert in Sanders’s technology, and maybe they could share information, but it was all getting too intense now. There was some crazy person out there, time jumping to abduct people. He had more to worry about than where he was going to put his willy when it got cold.
He ordered the household computer to put the bath on, then sprawled onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling.
Tomorrow was going to be hellish. The TRI would probably be going into security lockdown. If all went well, the police would release Sanders’s house, which would mean a new investigation would start, only this time by people who knew exactly what Sanders was capable of, and why he might have been targeted.
That meant toni
ght was the last night he could just shut the whole world out and pretend that everything wasn’t shot to buggery.
Nothing said relaxation like lying neck-deep in water so hot it turned him pink, with homemade clockwork submarines puttering around him, while ’80s and ’90s rock playlists blasted at full volume.
He was still soaking there almost an hour later, leg dangling over the side of the tub, when his quill buzzed. He frowned, peering through the steam at the display projected on the wall behind the bath.
Jacob’s number.
Oh, bloody marvelous.
He stopped winding the mechanism of Mighty Thundersquid 3 and set it back down in the water, then clapped to pick up the call. He paused, frowning, not quite sure what he was meant to say to the man who had insisted on a one-night stand, then sucked him off in a back room the next day.
“Kit?”
He stared at the ceiling, wishing he had let the call ring off. Jacob’s voice was like all the best sounds combined into one, echoing off the bathroom walls. “Yeah?”
Jacob sighed with relief. “You’re okay, then.”
Kit sat up in the water, pulling his leg back into the tub. The water sloshed around him, slapping against the sides. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You didn’t look too well this afternoon.”
It was true, but the last thing he needed was to encourage any kind of concern. It was stupid, no matter how good it felt. It wasn’t that he was picky when it came to friends or lovers. It was because he was in a job that required secrecy and made it difficult to make any casual friends outside of the office, in case of letting something slip by accident.
He propped his arms on his upraised knees. “I got home early. Got some sleep. I’m fine.” And once more, his mouth decided the brain’s input was unnecessary. “You didn’t let me get much rest last night, after all.”
As soon as the words were out his mouth, he knocked his forehead on his arms. Shit.
Jacob was silent for a moment. “Kit,” he began.
“I know, I know,” Kit mumbled into his arms. “We shouldn’t see each other. Investigation blah blah blah.” He sighed noisily and lifted his head. “Is that what you were going to say, Mr. I-give-regrettable-blowjobs-in-my-workplace?”
There was silence again.
“Actually, no.”
Kit looked at the projection of the call details on the wall, frowning. “What?”
“We need to talk.”
Kit raised his eyes to the ceiling. Oh, that sentence never led anywhere good. He pushed himself to his feet, water splashing around him. “Talk?” he echoed, stepping out of the bathtub. “What about?”
Jacob sighed. “I’d prefer to discuss it in person.”
Kit pulled on his bathrobe with unnecessary force. “So is this a social talk?” he asked. He didn’t care that he sounded annoyed. He was annoyed. Jacob was putting out too many mixed messages, and with everything that was happening, it wasn’t helping. “Or do you have more evidence you need me to go through before you spring a dismembered body part on me? Or maybe, just maybe, you want to suck my cock again? Is that it?”
“I think you know.”
Kit exhaled noisily. “You think I know? Know what? Oh, wait, wait. I think I’ve got this: I abducted Sanders. He’s currently hidden in my wardrobe.” He stamped over to the mirror and smeared the condensation from the glass. “No more riddles, Jacob. No more surprises. We talk straight or not at all.”
Jacob didn’t reply right away. When he did, his voice was quieter. “It’s partly to do with the case, and partly to do with us. Like I said, I’d prefer to discuss it in person.”
Kit leaned on the edge of the sink. He could say no. It would be simpler. “If I say no?”
“I’d have to get someone else to look into that data chip to see if anything else can be recovered.”
Kit stared at his reflection and swallowed hard. That could only mean one thing: Jacob suspected what he had done. “You want me to try again?” He was impressed at how steady his voice was.
“I want to talk to you in person,” Jacob replied.
Kit drummed his fingers on the counter. On one hand, if Jacob did suspect him, he might be trying to entrap him. On the other, he might be genuinely looking for his help. Or the third option: both. If Jacob was playing him, then he would choose where. “Fine,” he said “Tomorrow night. My place. Eight.”
“I was thinking somewhere public—”
“Bugger that,” Kit interrupted. “If we’re going to talk and it’s so important that it’s face-to-face, I want it in my space.” He pushed his fingers through his hair, leaving it on end. “If you’re worried about us falling back into bad habits, don’t worry. I’m not in the mood.”
He clapped again and terminated the call.
He wanted to break something.
The only heavy thing to hand was a bottle of hand wash. He eyed it, but all things considered, it wasn’t worth trying to clean soap off the walls and mirror. He grabbed his toothbrush and lobbed that instead. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t really help.
He braced his hands on the counter again and looked down at the sink. He’d never been built for politics and deception. A nice, complex code, that was the kind of thing he liked, but not lying to someone, especially not someone like Jacob. It felt crap. Not just lying to him, but having to maintain it, when Jacob was asking for his help.
He had to lie, though.
People needed him to lie.
He glanced up at his reflection in the mirror. He wasn’t good at fooling people, but Janos, the man he was trying his best to protect, was a master at it. His whole life was a carefully spun tale. In the three years he’d known the man, Kit had never once suspected he was anything but a modern man.
Maybe he was the best person to ask, especially if it was for his sake.
He padded back through to the living room and flicked the screen of his quill on, skimming through to Mariam’s name. He tapped in a brief message and sent it to her. It was a simple request, and she would be able to get in touch with Janos about it.
Kit lay back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.
Jumping through hoops for the TRI was one thing, but when those hoops felt like they were on fire and he was about to get burned, he needed help. Who better to help him than one of the men who had lit the hoops up?
His quill chimed, and he tapped the screen, projecting the data onto the ceiling above him. The message was simple: Janos will be in tomorrow at eight. Come in early. He’ll see you as soon as you arrive.
It wasn’t exactly a complete solution, but it was better than doing nothing.
He spent the rest of the night tinkering with the gate fragments he had built, but before he went back to bed, he carefully packed them up in a box and tucked them away in his storage room. While Jacob had already seen them, it was safer not to give him more reasons to ask questions.
He wasn’t surprised that he dreamed of being arrested and locked up. The dream was so real, the cool metal on his wrists, the cell, the door closing and leaving him in the dark with Jacob looking in through the opening.
When he woke, shivering, he had to check his wrists to be sure it was only a dream.
It was hard to sleep again after that, no matter how he tried.
By six o’clock, he gave up and settled for brooding over a stodgy breakfast instead. It was barely even seven o’clock when he left the building and set out in the direction of the heart of the city and the TRI.
For once, he’d remembered his pass and swiped his way into the building. The night warden looked at him in surprise.
“You’re early.”
“Catching the worm,” Kit replied. He shuffled into the lift and closed his eyes, counting under his breath until the doors opened on the tenth level. He didn’t know if Mariam would be in yet, but her office seemed like a good place to start.
To his surprise, both Janos and Mariam were in the office when Mariam opened the door.
/> He stared at her. “You look crap.”
Her lips thinned to a line. “Thank you.” She glanced back at Janos. “You’re sure you’ll be able to do this?”
Janos rose from the chair. “Yes.” He nodded to the door. “You go to collect Ben. He must be priority.”
Mariam nodded, then glanced at Kit. “Your friend Ofori is coming in today.”
Kit smothered a groan. Something else Jacob had neglected to mention the night before. Of course. If they were lucky, their paths wouldn’t cross until tonight, but if they did, at least he wasn’t about to be surprised. “I’ll stay out of his way.”
“Good idea.” She motioned toward Janos. “He’s all yours.”
The door slid shut behind her, and Kit looked at Janos, trying to find the best way to ask his question.
Janos was leaning back in the chair. He looked completely at ease. “You are staring.”
Kit’s cheeks burned. “Sorry,” he said, approaching and sitting down. “I just….” He frowned, looking down at his knees, then back up. “I don’t know how to ask this in any polite way: How are you so good at lying?”
Janos raised his eyebrows. “You are right. This is not polite way.”
Kit flinched. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just….” He pushed his fingers through his rumpled hair, scratching at his head. “Look, I’m an engineer. I never had to keep any secrets because no one outside the TRI ever bothered to ask me stuff, but now, there’s a policeman who expects me to be honest with him, and I don’t know how to keep from telling him stuff. Stuff that could get you in trouble.” He waved a hand at Janos. “And you’ve been living here, like you’ve never lived in any other time. You fit in and no one would suspect anything. How do you do it?”
Janos gazed at him. “Because I have to do it. In my life before this place, I had to be strong man who liked women. This was a lie. I have to do this or I die.” He shrugged. “When you have reason like that, to lie is not so difficult.”
Kit stared at him. That hadn’t been mentioned before. “Lie or die?”