by Matt Doyle
“Yeah.”
“And that combined with the report of Bert tracking an auditory disturbance makes you think our perp is using a dog whistle in conjunction with the lighting?”
“Yeah. Or something similar, anyway.”
When Hoove speaks again, his voice is firm, though not aggressive. “The problem is that dog whistles don’t generally affect humans much at all unless they have an underlying condition.”
“I know that,” I reply. “But the concept could be similar.”
“Actually,” Hanson cuts in, “Cassie could be onto something here. You ever hear of Vic Tandy?”
“Who?” Hoove asks.
“He was a British engineer,” Hanson clarifies. “He was a pioneer in the use of infrasound in paranormal research. See, he was working in some lab, and he kept getting this…feeling of fear, I guess. He said he saw some sort of apparition too, but every time he tried to look directly at it, it disappeared.”
Hoove sighs and sits down into his chair. “And what does this have to do with dog whistles, exactly?”
“Well, this Tandy guy figured out there was something in the lab—a fan I think it was—vibrating at a frequency a little below nineteen Hz. When he turned it off, all the anxiety dropped off, and his apparition disappeared. It’s why some people call the eighteen-point-nine Hz range ‘the fear frequency.’ Dog whistles, now they go a little above twenty Hz, which is why you can’t hear them; twenty Hz is the upper limit for most humans.”
“Then why’d I get the idea of dog whistles in my head?” I ask.
“New Hopeland isn’t exactly a silent city, right? You’d have likely heard anything the LV was putting out below twenty Hz, but it would have been like the sort of ambient noise that surrounds you every day.”
“So, it wouldn’t have registered with me what I was hearing.”
“And the same with me,” Donal cuts in from the doorway. “Sound below twenty Hz,” he says and waves Hanson to continue.
“Exactly. Now, I’m no psychiatrist…”
“Thank fuck for that,” Hoove cuts in, then looks slightly embarrassed that he’s spoken out loud. “Sorry. Continue.”
Hanson gives the Captain a wink then turns to me and says, “Something in you must have picked up on it being odd and your brain went to the first thing that seemed familiar and similar. Dog whistles.”
“That would make sense,” I reply. “What sort of response does the fear frequency get in people?”
“Aside from anxiety and hallucinations, it varies. Dizziness, terror, confusion, that sort of thing. Then there’s the brown note.”
“Which might explain the nightmare too. Wait…the brown note?” I ask.
“Yeah, if a note goes low enough, you stop being able to hear it, and the theory is if you find the right frequency, you can make someone shit their—”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Hanson,” Hoove says, stopping her a little too late for my liking. “Assuming we’re right about this, is there a reason why the LV wouldn’t be using the auditory tactic all the time?”
“Inconsistency,” Hanson replies. “The results vary a lot from person to person, and it’s actually even less consistent than the dazzler lights. My guess is he uses it as a sort of backing track to the attack, then switches it to the primary weapon as a last resort. From there, he probably varies up the frequency until he gets a response.”
“Testing the theory would be ideal,” Hoove grunts, “but it’s at least an easy one to solve. We have noise cancelling headphones on site.” He turns to Donal and asks, “Are the lenses ready?”
“Got ’em down in the TS area ready for us to test.”
AS IT TURNS out, I find contact lenses uncomfortable. Not that we have much choice in the matter right now. I’d say they’re less conspicuous than sunglasses, but with the odd-coloured tinting, these things stand out. A lot.
Hanson flashes a few more lights in my face, and much like the last two tests, they have no effect on me. I turn to Donal and say, “It’s great that they work, but they’re a solid brown. Don’t you think it’s going to be obvious?”
Donal shrugs. “Sure it is, but that’s the tinting for you. The LV already knows we found a way around his little light show anyway, so even if there is more than one of them, he’ll have passed that little titbit on.”
“I guess, but what about the public? However we tackle this, we’re likely to see regular people at some point. Isn’t it going to look a bit odd?”
“Self-conscious?” he asks with a smirk. I flip the bird his way, and he smiles, then continues, “We can work around it. We’ll say it’s a charity thing or something.”
“Your eye guard is clear,” I remind him.
“It’s made from a different material. And by a different person. Does the tinting obscure your vision?”
“No.”
“Then there’s no problem. It only shows up in strong light anyway.”
“Do Corporal Devereaux’s work?” Hoove asks.
“No way to tell for sure without testing them,” Donal replies.
“Seems like a good bet given the rest all work,” Hanson adds. “I doubt he’d want us wearing them for him anyway. He can get a bit weird with germs sometimes.”
“We’ll risk it then. Just make sure he knows his aren’t tested,” Hoove says.
“Great. So, any ideas on how to proceed?” Hanson asks.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Hoove says. “I say we tackle this head on.”
“And how do we do that?”
“We alone down here?” Hoove asks, and Donal nods. “We know for certain who Mary Warner is, and we have a good idea who the LV is, we just need the proof. So, let’s make him panic. We’re going to throw out a direct challenge for tonight and force his hand.”
Chapter Seven
CAPTAIN HOOVER STANDS behind the podium we’ve set up in the war room and waits for the noise from the assorted people we’ve invited to die down before looking right at the camera and starting his pre-prepared speech. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am sure you are aware of the recent increase in crime in the city, in particular as it pertains to muggings. While many of these crimes are unrelated to one another, other than in their general nature, a great number can be attributed to one individual. Until now, we have remained silent on this, but the time has come to confirm that the attacker in question is not targeting individuals in order to steal material possessions. He, and we are certain it is a he, has been stealing small samples of the victims’ blood.”
The gathered reporters start to shout out questions, mostly along the lines we expected going into this. Hoove silences them with his hands and responds, “I am sure you can understand that our overall aim was to reduce the risk of causing panic among the general public. Yes, our intent has always been to reveal the details of the case, but not until we were in a position to ensure public safety. Since the beginning of the attacks, a small team of our finest has been tackling the case and, more recently, we were fortunate enough to be able to bring in additional help from outside the department. I am sure that, given her recent involvement with a number of high-profile cases in the city, you all know Cassandra Tam. I would like to hand the microphone to her now to deliver an important message to those watching, and to one person in particular.”
I shake Hoove’s hand before replacing him behind the podium. Once the initial murmur has subsided, I say, “Thank you, Captain Hoover, for both the kind words and the opportunity to play my part in resolving this matter. Most of you know me already, but for those who don’t, I am a licenced private investigator here in New Hopeland and have been now for many years. I am sure you are all wondering why the PD have contracted someone such as myself onto their team, especially given the disparity between resources available to each of us. The reason is simple. Recently, I almost became a victim of the man we are hunting.”
I wait a second to let the words sink in, then continue, “I was fortunate. The attacker was unable to acc
omplish his goal with me, though they did leave me a little memento of the encounter.” I tap my neck where the tracker still resides, and say, “He left a tracker in my neck. It has already been used once to allow him to make a second attempt at taking my blood. Again, he was unsuccessful, this time thanks in part to my fellow team member and Tech Shift Marshal of the New Hopeland PD, Donal O’Brien. From the evidence gathered during this second attack, and some further investigation this gave rise to, we have been able to ascertain a number of key facts.
“First, this case is likely related to a historical case of a similar nature that took place in California two years ago. As such, the motive appears to be a greed-fuelled attempt at taking advantage of the current blood drive crisis. Second, the latest victim is a lady named Pauline Welch. Though she is sadly currently unable to answer queries… No, I am unable to disclose why she unavailable at this point in time. As I was saying, Miss Welch appears to have been fortunate enough to be only the second known victim to avoid having her blood sampled. Given not only the likelihood that this will lead to a repeat attempt, but that Miss Welch is currently staying at the New Hopeland Hospital, it has become imperative that we bring this matter to a close.”
I fix my eyes dead ahead and wait a few seconds for the cameras present to zoom in like they usually do. In many ways, this is a standard technique for this sort of TV appearance. Right now, I have a second reason to do so. If he’s watching, my hope is Doctor Sanderson is going to feel as if my eyes aren’t fixed on a blank point on the back wall but are in fact locked with his.
“This is a message for the attacker. We know who you are now. We also know Miss Welch knows who you are. After tonight, we will be moving her to an undisclosed location, and her involvement will provide us with the proof we need to charge you for your crimes. Tonight, to ensure the safety of our key witness, the entire team will be waiting for you with Pauline Welch. This is your last opportunity. Come to us. Turn yourself in or try again. Either way, you’re finished.”
I depart the podium, and Hoove returns to his place. “Thank you all for coming. I am afraid we have no time for questions, as we have to make our final preparations for tonight. You may all leave.”
OF COURSE, THE reporters protested. They wanted more than we gave them. That doesn’t matter, though. Providing our target got the message that we’re on to him, it’s job done. If we’re lucky—or maybe unlucky—we’ll also get an answer to the question of whether there’s more than one LV in the city. It’s a shame her boss didn’t send Lori along, though, I muse.
The room clears quickly enough for us to make good time getting ready to leave, at least. Lieutenant Hanson went ahead before the press event so that she could relieve Corporal Devereaux from his guard duty. That leaves me, Hoove, and Donal to ride in the back of the TS van. What surprises me is the sheer amount of ammo we’ve been cleared to carry. “Seems like overkill,” I say.
“I still have my doubts that there are many people using the LV suits in New Hopeland, if there’s more than one at all. But it’s better to be prepared,” Hoove replies. “Plus, if we’re right, then Sanderson isn’t going to be happy seeing this much firepower coming into the hospital. And if we’re wrong, the chances are the real attacker will be watching anyway. The more nervous we can make him the better.”
“Aye. A bit of fear goes a long way,” Donal adds.
“That’s part of the reason for the TS Unit, isn’t it?” I ask. “Bringing on some fear?”
“Nothing like a werewolf attack to make ya shite yourself,” Donal replies.
“You say that, but the TS Unit has a couple of full animal types, doesn’t it? Wasn’t it three hybrids, including yourself, and two animals? I know they’re bigger than domestic animals, but I doubt most would make the association for the two.”
Donal shrugs. “There are five of us, you’re right there. We all have both types of TS gear, though.”
“You do?”
“I thought that was public knowledge,” Hoove says.
“Big difference between public knowledge and public known,” I grunt, slightly annoyed at myself for not being aware of something that was apparently obvious.
“Bah. You haven’t had a reason to know,” Donal reassures me. “I’d reckon that most people have different figures in their head as to how it balances out. Fact is, we just use the TS gear that’s most suited to any situation. The hybrid suits work best in most cases, but there have been times when going full animal is better. If we’re potentially working in smaller areas, or if we need to blend in around real animals, for example. And I know that sounds stupid, but people tend to see what they expect to see, so if one or two dogs are bigger than the rest, they brush it off as genetics, if the lighting’s right.”
“Makes sense. The reasoning behind the dual types and how you get away with it. It must be a pain to learn to use both types, though.”
“Not really,” Donal says, relaxing against the wall on his side of the van. “The lower legs are the same in both types, so once you learn one, you can control the other just fine, even if the alignment of it changes between styles. The front legs on the animal ones are a little more difficult, but you can pick it up easy enough if you put the time in.”
“My partner runs a local TS meet,” I reply. “I’ve only been to a few, but it always amazes me how easily everyone moves in TS gear. They’re all full animal there.”
“I’d guess they’re mostly second F’s then, right?” I nod, knowing he means Fetishists, and he crosses his arms behind his head. “Honestly, if you want it enough, it doesn’t take long to adjust with it. The beauty of the system is it’s so straightforward. On top of that, TS gear is built to prevent you toppling over, did you know that?”
“Yeah, actually. Lori showed me the inside of the legs on her suit once. The back-leg locks with a heel pressure pad, and the front with the hand rest, eh?”
“That’s right. Lori. That your partner?”
“Yeah.”
“If you’re dating a Tech Shifter, that explains why you weren’t completely thrown when you first saw me suited up. Most people get a little creeped.”
“Honestly? It surprised me that I wasn’t. After the stuff when the gear first went out to the public, I’ve always been a little nervous around Tech Shifters. I guess I’m just getting used to it. Okay, here’s a question then. What’s the difference between an enforcement grade suit and a public one? I mean, I know a few differences, but I’m sure there’s more to it.”
“Hmm…am I allowed to talk about that?” Donal asks, turning to Hoove.
Hoove shrugs and gives his moustache a scratch. “Don’t see why not. It’s not public release detail, but Caz ain’t gonna spread it about, are ya?”
“Of course not. I’m curious, is all.”
“Well, weight is one thing,” Donal replies. “Enforcement suits are heavier because they have a couple of layers of ballistic armour built in. The rest is how the parts work. You must have noticed the teeth, right?”
I nod. “The claws too. It all looks bigger and sharper than the ones at the meets.”
“Aye. They’re built for combat and rescue.”
“Rescue?” I repeat, making the word a question.
“Public TS gear looks good, but unless you’re modding it or already real strong, you wouldn’t be able to do much damage with it. More than without it, sure, but not much. The reason for that is because the hydraulics are all in the locking mechanisms for the legs. For enforcement grade stuff, we have smaller systems built into the hands and muzzles too. You probably didn’t notice, but the hands on my hybrid suit are actually a little lower down than my actual hands. It works with a motion mapping system, and if I give the right finger signals, the hands will get some extra oomph to them. Means I can rip stuff away if someone’s trapped, or make sure a perp doesn’t get away if I think they’ll be hard to handle otherwise. Same goes with the jaw. A bit of extra pressure works wonders.”
“Jaws of
life,” I say with a wink.
Donal laughs. “And death if it comes to it. If it hadn’t been for the infrasound, or whatever the guy did, he wouldn’t have gotten away when I grabbed him without unmasking first. Here’s one to see how much attention you’ve been paying then. How can you immediately tell if someone’s wearing an enforcement suit rather than a public one?”
“Not a clue.”
“It’s the tail,” Hoove cuts in, obviously bored with not being part of the conversation. “Unless the wearer has a custom build that demands it, public suits come with tails as default, enforcement ones don’t. The hydraulics aid with balance, so the tail isn’t needed for anything other than aesthetics. That’s how you can tell most of the time.”
“Ya know,” I say, thinking back to the first time I saw Donal suited up. “I don’t think I even noticed that you didn’t have a tail.”
“Most don’t. Like I said, people see what they expect to see.”
“So, which F are you? I don’t mind if you don’t want to answer.”
“None of them,” Donal says with a smile.
“He’s an A,” Hoove adds.
“An A?”
“Yup. Donal ain’t a Furry, Fetishist, or Freak, at least to my knowledge. Not that it would matter if he was any but the latter. He’s just ambitious.”
“The Captain here told me I couldn’t expect too much in the way of promotion opportunities with the cases I had under my belt, but given my build and general attitude, he’d be happy to put me forward to lead the new TS Unit if I was willing to put the time in.”
“Seriously? You went TS just to get a promotion?”
“You haven’t seen his pay packet,” Hoove snorts. “He earns the extra money too.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I say, still unable to keep the surprise off my face.
“I tell ya what,” Donal says, eying something at my waist. “Did Captain Hoover here explain how that thing works?”