LifeGames Corporatoin

by Michael Smorenburg

And then, as if to confirm his worst suspicions, on Saturday morning the police had come knocking at his door. He was to face charges of an assault on Catherine.

  Alex, the private investigator he kept on retainer had called him at home with a disjointed request to get into the operations complex. There was something not right about his story, and Ken had refused him entry. For good measure Ken had then called security to tell them to keep a wary eye open. Sure enough, Alex had been duly caught trying to gain access into the complex under the guise of an electricity department technician. He had told the weekend’s skeleton staff that he had come to gauge their draw of current.

  Ken would deal with him later.

  And now, there was this bullshit. Nancy had deliberately put through Catherine’s self-opinionated lawyer, without first creating a buffer for Ken to prepare himself.

  “Where the hell is that girl…!” he shouted at a volume that half the complex could hear. “NANCY!” he boomed again.

  She did not appear.

  He leapt from his chair and stormed back through their inter-leading door to where Nancy was calmly packing her belongings. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I’m waiting for you!”

  “I don’t think what the fuck I’m doing,” her voice was clear and calm, an antagonistic lopsided grin like a banner painted across her face, “I know what the fuck I’m doing. I’m fucking… leaving.”

  She scooped her belongings under her arm and was gone.

  Chapter 33

  “Hello Jenny, Catherine please.”

  “I’m sorry but Miss Kaplan won’t be in today, can I take a message?”

  Nancy began to worry, “Is she all right, Jenny? I’ve been trying her and Jacky all day on their mobiles… no response to calls or messages.”

  “Is that you, Nancy?” Jenny sounded shocked at Nancy’s entirely strained and altered voice, “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice at all…”

  “I’m a little upset…. You say she won’t be in today?” Nancy asked a second time, the most diabolical thoughts racing through her mind.

  “I’m sure I can tell you… she’s been at the hospital and lawyers, badly assaulted, Nancy. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier when you called, I’ve only just found out myself.”

  “Where? When?” Nancy was frantic.

  “Friday night, in her bedroom.”

  “A robbery? Why wasn’t I called?”

  “Uhhmm, not a robbery, no. I think it best she tells you herself.”

  Jenny had been briefed that it was Nancy’s boss who had assaulted Catherine. With no idea of the prevailing loyalties, she opted for caution.

  “Is she definitely at home?” Nancy inquired.

  “I think so, two hours ago they were both home. Jacky said they’d be out for a while, but didn’t say for how long.”

  Nancy could sense Jenny’s anguish and there was no need to prolong it, so she wound up her questioning, “Is Jacky still with her?”

  “I think so.”

  “Thanks, Jenny. If she calls, please tell her I’m looking for her…. I’m at home, she’s not to call my office.”

  Nancy hung up and tried both mobiles, then phoned their home number where voicemail took her umpteenth message.

  Nancy continued to check her phone for the following hour. Periodically she’d try Catherine’s number, only to be disappointed by the recording. When her call was finally answered, it was Jacky;

  “What’s going on?” Nancy was devoured by worry.

  “Ken attacked Catherine on Friday night. I had a late flight and arrived home just in time to stop him short of killing her.”

  “WHAT?…!!” This was far worse that Nancy had anticipated. “You mean that he actually came into your house? How did he get in?”

  “The police don’t know. Everything was locked and the alarm was fully armed. It’s a mystery. Catherine reckons that it was his apparition.”

  “Oh sweet Jesus, no. How is she?”

  “Bad, very bad. But she’s starting to recover,” Jacky sounded exhausted. “I’m sorry to cut you short Nance, but I must get a move on, I’ve got a flight in two hours. I’ll be out of town till Saturday, but there’s a nurse coming in for Cath.”

  “No!” Nancy stated emphatically. “I’ll stay over. I… I mean, if that’s all right with you?”

  “Of course it is! It would take a weight off of my mind, I hate strangers in the house but it’s impossible for me to take off any more time. I’ve about used up my leave for the year and besides, lately I haven’t been at my best when I have worked.”

  “Cancel the nurse. I’ll be right over.”

  Nancy threw together a change of clothing and headed for her car. On her way out she had another idea and doubled back. For good measure packed in her .38 snub nosed 5-shot revolver with hollow points.

  When she arrived at the house, Jacky was about to leave.

  “Brace yourself… you’re going to get a bit of a shock when you see her, Nance. But don’t worry, the damage is only superficial, the swelling’s already mostly gone down.”

  As Nancy entered the bedroom, Catherine croaked a greeting from the bed, forcing a smile onto her turgidly swollen face.

  It took all of Nancy’s self-control to cover the shock of seeing Catherine in such a desperate condition.

  She produced a large bouquet of flowers that she’d bought en route. They took Catherine’s eyes off her long enough to study what looked like a case of elephantitis propped up on her pillow;

  “Oh Catherine! What has he done to you?”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing all that had occurred during the previous three days.

  It was an arduous task for Catherine to talk, but eventually she managed to communicate everything she wanted to say. She was suffering from severe concussion, a broken nose, multiple rib fractures and a suspected hair fracture of the cheekbone.

  The charges, as put to Ken, included attempted rape, breaking and entering, and assault with grievous bodily harm.

  “Do you know how to use one of these?” Nancy produced the revolver from her bag, rechecking its load.

  “Yes, I’ve shot before. I don’t really like guns, but right now I do.”

  “Good… there’s one up the spout… I’m going to tuck it in here behind your head,” Nancy pulled the mattress slightly away from the headboard and checked that the weapon would come out easily in the event it was needed.

  “Can you reach it?”

  With a little pained wincing Catherine managed to get at it.

  “If I really need it, I won’t feel a thing I’ll get it, don’t you worry,” she stutteringly assured Nancy.

  They went on discussing the problem that Ken still posed in both of their lives.

  “Are you sure that he still has the fingernail?” Catherine asked.

  Nancy racked her brain to remember.

  “I’m certain it was gone, I felt for it.”

  On Friday night, even after combinations of blows and strangulation; in the half-dream world of semi-consciousness; Catherine had been grimly determined to establish whether her robust attacker was indeed a phantom or flesh and blood.

  She could clearly remember desperately feeling for the nail in a death-wrestle to break away from Ken’s grip.

  The shock and adrenaline had made time slow down, making it like a fight in treacle, every blow arriving in slow motion, every movement to duck it stuck in the wrong gear. Peculiarly, she’d seen the comical side of what she was trying to do; to grope to feel for a nail while a man tried to murder her. And then the shock and horror of finding a blunt stub where she’d expected a protrusion.

  It had been that shock that had doubled her strength, giving her a tiny gap to momentarily break his steel grip and catch a breath of air.

  “At the office, was he at least cut or bruised?” She asked Nancy hopefully, “We’re both positive Jacky managed to crack him really hard across the temple as he went throu
gh the window. The blow made him loose his grip and fall,” Catherine was feebly pointing toward the window through which Ken had escaped.

  Nancy moved across the room to look down the ten or more feet onto the spiny table of thorn-laden bougainvillea, the logical place into which Ken would have fallen.

  Nancy shook her head in disbelief.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this Cath, but from what I could see, he was unhurt… and those thorns would definitely have ripped him to shreds.”

  The bush was particularly thick and spiny and unmolested; Nancy could see that each branch was studded with inch long talons. There was not a broken twig to be seen.

  Beyond the hedge was thirty feet of open grass and beyond that was the perimeter fence, topped by spikes.

  “Jacky said that she watched him go straight down into blackness. Neither of us heard him land and she didn’t see him again!”

  As Catherine spoke, her head shook with methodical denial of the facts that her mouth spoke.

  Even under the cover of pitch darkness, nobody could cover that distance without being seen or heard, Nancy thought.

  “Nance, I’m at the end of my tether, look at me! This wasn’t an illusion. Hallucinations can’t do this!” She touched at the swelling of her own face. “Jacky saw him here. She identified him in a picture. Yet he claimed to the police that he had been at home and asleep by eleven o’clock!

  Catherine began to sob softly to herself.

  “It was the same old nightmare all over again,” she lamented. “…But nightmares don’t beat you to a pulp, and witnesses certainly can’t see your nightmare!”

  Chapter 34

  David Edelstein had a serious problem.

  It was Friday, four days since he’d taken on the cut and dried case of attempted rape and assault; the medical evidence was plain for anyone to see, medically detailed and police reported.

  His chief suspect had both motive and opportunity, and had formally been identified by a witness and the victim who knew him well. Not surprisingly, because this suspect did not have an alibi, he claimed to have been warmly tucked into his bed at the time of the assault.

  At its outset, it had appeared to be the easiest criminal case he’d ever be asked to prove. It had seemed far simpler than the civil case of spiking illicit drugs through an undetermined medium into Catherine that he’d brought against him on her behalf less than a week earlier.

  The police report of this assault charge, though both detailed and thorough, left David with no more than bare bones upon which to build his case;

  There had been no forced entry… there had been no signs of an exit through the window as alleged; and the accused assailant’s body indicated no identifiable bruising or scraping, which it should have sustained during the claimed reprisal and escape.

  And finally, there had been no hair, skin, prints or blood anywhere on the property in spite of the victims’ claims that the attacker was not wearing gloves.

  “If I didn’t know these girls personally,” David had told his colleagues during the morning briefing, “I’d be certain that they were pulling our chain. This looks a hell of a lot more like a two-story fall and a subsequently opportunistic attempt to frame some wealthy innocent guy.”

  Fortunately for Catherine, an instinct within David told him that something far more sinister was afoot than met the eye.

  Then, during the ensuing week, all of their evidence relating to both cases had quickly evaporated like mist ahead of a warm wind;

  When it eventually did arrive, the emailed report from Kevin concerning the patch had been vague. He’d revised his findings in their written form, the contents being remarkably different from his previous verbal assurances.

  It read;

  “A chemical of unusual structure was identified, but proved too similar in its structural components to common human hormones, particularly ATP C10H16N5O13P3 to be deemed a narcotic. The concentrations of the active ingredient proved too rarefied to be properly identified…”

  Kevin had also developed a strange aversion to the idea of testifying. Neither David nor Catherine had any success in altering his resolve on that score;

  “I’m sorry Mr. Edelstein, but I’ve got my career to consider. When I spoke to you previously, I hadn’t realized that the university has arrangements with LifeGames to use their facilities. I made inquiry and it was impressed upon me that my future prospects might be… well… limited if I did testify.”

  Kevin’s cold feet had caused a red light to pulse brightly in David’s own mind. He’d rummaged through back-copies of the prestigious Weekly Law Journal and, sure enough, he found an article naming LifeGames as holding a major contract with the justice department. The contract had been for the training of all judges within their jurisdiction.

  David thought it prudent to ask some questions around town;

  “Excellent program, David! LifeGames is really top class. They’re just opening their doors to private practice and you should try to get yourself onto one. In fact, I was told that this month’s Journal will carry an extensive editorial about them. The bigger firms are already signed up. You don’t want to be left out, and, no… no, no, and NO….! You definitely don’t want to go up against them in court! Not for anything.”

  It was the same response that David got no matter where he made his enquiries within the hierarchy of justice.

  Even Alex, the original fly-in-the-face-of-authority Private Investigator, had been adamant about avoiding further involvement.

  Something had rattled him like nothing David had ever imagined possible. Somebody had been so successful at convincing him to keep away from this case, that David could hear live panic in Alex’s voice as he desperately tried to cut the telephone call short.

  David had pressed the matter as far as it could go but there was nothing more he could get out of Alex.

  Catherine’s pathology report had been as equally dismal in its vagueness as all of the other crumbling pillars that were supposed to support a watertight case;

  The results pointed to Catherine as an alleged “…extremely hyperactive individual” and vague convoluted language managed to say much and mean nothing at all.

  When pressed, the pathologists could not elaborate any further. The tests were medically inconclusive.

  “Catherine, I don’t know what more I can do,” David’s voice was filled with despair. “You know that I would never run from a fight, but our armory is depleted at this point… In fact, I’ve just been on a long call to a Brigadier, Judge Advocate Brown, of the Judge Advocate General’s Corps… you’ll probably know them as J.A.G… they’re the legal branch of the military. Now, he’s one of the top prosecutors within the forces. On Monday when I briefed him regarding the case, he was very interested. By Wednesday he’d personally reviewed General Daly’s file and he’d looked into a bunch of other pending cases that precede Daly’s, which, incidentally, had been neatly hushed up. He was positive that there was good cause for a full investigation.”

  Even speaking across the telephone lines, David could sense Catherine’s dejection, but as much as it hurt him he had no option but to continue with his brief to her.

  “…However, this morning when I spoke to him, he was hesitant and non-committal on the subject… like it was a non-issue. I got the distinct feeling that he was afraid to press any further ahead with the subject. He mentioned that the Pentagon have already assessed the inherent dangers associated with Time Dilation, and they’re apparently satisfied that the risks are within an acceptable range for losses to psychological breakdown…”

  There was a long pause.

  Eventually she spoke, “Well then… what do you suggest that we do David?”

  The swelling of Catherine’s lips had abated dramatically during the six days since the attack and her voice had restored itself to its original incisive tone. With her voice so clear, it betrayed the flutter of fear borne of intimidation.

  “The criminal case for assau
lt that you laid is in the hands of the Justice Department. They’ve sent it to the District Attorney for review. Even though much of the evidence has disintegrated, it’s a fair case but I must caution you that there’s still a lot of work to go into it. What we can do right now is to gain an urgent court interdict against Torrington coming within a certain radius of you. We can also expand our civil case to sue him for damages arising from the assault. As you probably know, a civil case allows much more latitude for establishing circumstantial guilt than criminal cases do. I think that will be our best short-term solution.”

  “And a long-term solution?” Catherine’s gut twisted with frustration as she guessed the answer for herself.

  “Frankly Catherine, I don’t know. To make a proper case out of either of the charges we’ll need much more evidence than we’ve got. Every time we get it, it evaporates.”

  Catherine was silent for a moment. Then she had another idea;

  “What if I took this to the FBI or the Drug Administration people? Don’t you think they’d have pull?”

  “They’d have plenty of pull all right,” David sighed. “But I’ve been looking at LifeGames’ list of clients out of last years issue of Forbes. There isn’t a law enforcement agency whose top people haven’t been through the mill down there. It seems that everybody who is anybody is required to go through this cursed company’s programs… And that includes the press!”

  “You mean to tell me that Kenneth Torrington has monopolized the entire machinery of justice within the free world?” Catherine’s frustration was at boiling point.

  “Unfortunately. Yes…” a man of the law, David clung more closely to definitions. “But I think that monopolized is a little strong. Well connected would most probably be more accurate.”

  “In this world David, that’s the same fucking thing! When we can’t get justice from the seats of power, because those goddamned seats of power derive the basis of their power from the precise thing that we need protection from… then what is that if it isn’t monopolization of the state by an individual person?”

  She’d just told him that the man he’d insulted a week earlier had him by his short-n-curlies, so he resolved to prize that grip loose, even if it meant loosing handfuls.