by John Bowers
The guard obeyed and Nick cuffed him with his own E-cuffs. Holstering the .44, he searched the man and then shoved him back into the chair.
“What’s your name?”
“Spencer.”
“How many guards are working tonight?”
“Three. Me and two others.”
“That’s all? Three men for the whole building?”
“No, just this cellblock. There’s maybe a dozen on the other wing.”
“All right. Where are your buddies?”
“Making the rounds. What the fuck is this about? Why are you cuffing me? I haven’t done anything!”
“This facility is now under Federation control. Your employers have been arrested, and unless you want to share a cell with them, just do what you’re told until we get everything sorted out.”
Spencer looked shaken. “What the hell did you arrest them for?”
“If you have to ask, maybe I should arrest you, too. Sit there and shut up.”
Shaken and confused, Spencer glanced from Nick to Fred Ferguson.
“You under arrest, too? What the hell did you do?”
Nick tapped him on the forehead.
“I told you to shut up. I’ll ask the questions.”
“All right! I’m shutting.”
“Have you seen Stan Cramer this evening?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“What time was that?”
“Thirty, forty minutes ago.”
“Did he talk to you?”
“No. He just walked by.”
“Walked by? Which way was he going?”
“Out.” Spencer inclined his head toward the main entrance. “He was leaving the building.”
“Did you see which way he went?”
“Yeah, he left the building.”
Nick sighed in frustration.
“After he left the goddamn building, which way did he go?”
“I dunno. I didn’t look out. Ask the guy at the gate.”
Nick had left the “guy at the gate” E-cuffed on the floor of the guard shack. He stepped into the corridor and called Murray.
“When you left the prison, was anyone in the guard shack?”
“Didn’t see anyone.”
“Okay. Looks like Cramer has left the Farrington facility. He could be anywhere, so pass the word to be on the lookout. I don’t think he knows yet that we’ve arrested the Farringtons, but he does know I was on to him, so he might be looking to eliminate witnesses. We need to find the bastard as quick as possible.”
“Got it. I’ll tell Beech and Zima.”
“Where are you now?”
“System Springs.”
“Good. As soon as I’m done here I’m going there next. Wait for me.”
Nick disconnected and peered down the corridor—he didn’t want to be taken by surprise before help arrived. At the moment everything was dark and quiet. He turned back to Spencer.
“Do you know David Tarpington?”
Spencer reacted as if he’d been slapped. He sucked in his breath and his eyes grew wide. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Yeah.”
“Were you here when he got here this afternoon?”
Spencer swallowed, blinking rapidly. He didn’t answer right away.
“Tarpington is still alive,” Nick told him, “so when I talk to him, your story had better match his.”
Spencer’s eyes watered and he looked ready to cry. He only nodded.
“You were here?”
“Yes.”
“Did you put him in that torture room?”
“No!”
“Did you strip him naked and string him up?”
“No!”
“Did you wire up his dick with electricity and turn on the juice?” Nick still didn’t know what had been done to Tarpington, but Milligan had made it sound pretty bad, so he used his imagination. It seemed to be working. “Did you skin him like—”
“No! No!”
“—a goddamn raccoon?”
“NO!! I didn’t do any of that! I would never do that to David. I love him. I’ve been in love with him for a long time. I would never hurt him.”
Nick stopped, startled. It hadn’t occurred to him that Spencer might be gay. The man was sobbing in his chair, broken, as if he’d just lost a family member. Nick was inclined to believe he really was in love with Tarpington.
“Tell me what happened. And don’t leave anything out.”
* * *
Zima’s people arrived twenty minutes later, thirteen armed men. They were a rough looking lot, men you wouldn’t want to insult in a bar, but none of them had that felonious look in their eyes that was so prevalent among men on Ceres. Nick met them outside and briefed them.
“Eventually we’re going to take control of the whole prison, but right now you’re just going to occupy the women’s cellblock. Nobody gets in or out without U.F. Marshal authority. If anyone tries, you have authorization to use deadly force. I have one guard in custody and there are a couple more roaming around somewhere, so when they show up just disarm them and stick them in a cell. We’ll be getting more men in a few hours, and this thing will all be over in a couple of days. So dig in and be prepared for anything.”
Nick took them into the building and placed them at strategic points. He placed three in the office building with orders to keep everyone out. That done, he collected Fred Ferguson and headed back to System Springs.
Chapter 32
Sunday, August 11, 0440 (CC) — System Springs - Ceres
Milo Zima had placed the Farrington twins in the same cells recently occupied by Fred Ferguson and Monica Maynard, at opposite ends of the lockup. Nick found both men looking dejected and subdued. Harvey seemed somewhat recovered from his shock; his jaw was rotating full speed and his grunting had gone into overdrive.
Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!
His pants were soaked in urine and he no longer looked arrogant or condescending; rather, his eyes shifted rapidly from point to point like a trapped animal.
Nick stared at him a moment and concluded that he was in no shape for interrogation. Although it might be fun, it would net nothing, because the man was bordering insanity, and time was short. He moved on to the other cell where Henry Farrington waited.
Henry also looked stunned at his sudden reversal of fortune, but his eyes were clear. He glared at Nick with pure hatred, but the sneer was gone. An adhesive bandage covered the cut in his forehead. Nick pulled up a chair and sat outside the cell, gazing at him. Russ Murray stood nearby with a handheld recording device.
“Anything you want to talk about, Henry?”
Henry looked up with barely concealed fury.
“No. We didn’t do anything wrong. You have nothing on us.”
Nick and Murray exchanged glances; Murray shook his head in amazement.
“Nothing?” Nick said. “Are you that out of touch with reality? Even before I start interviewing victims I have enough on you for forty life sentences. When you go to trial it’ll take an hour to read the charges, and when the jury comes back with the verdicts it’ll take twice that long. The trial will last a year, at least.”
“It wasn’t us. It was Cramer.”
“Cramer! Was it Cramer who raped Monica, killed her husband, and held her son hostage? Was it Cramer who framed Jessica Garner, killed her husband, and tortured her for two years? Was it Cramer who—”
“Yes. Yes! He was behind all that. This whole thing was his idea. It was his operation from the beginning. We were just the front men, the public face.”
Surprised at this sudden admission, Nick leaned forward encouragingly.
“So how did it play out? How did it all get started?”
Henry grimaced. “My brother and I were down on our luck. We’d failed in business three or four times and were looking for a new opportunity. Cramer came to us with a plan, and we went for it. He would put up the money and we would run the operation. He was the senior partner; it was a three-way split, wit
h Cramer owning fifty-two percent. He gave us twenty-four percent each.”
“So even if you opposed him you didn’t have enough juice to reverse him.”
“Exactly.”
“And you went for that?”
“Sure. It was a good deal. We had nothing, and this was a gold mine. Cramer is good at business, and he served as our attorney.”
“Where did he get his capital? Was he already wealthy?”
Henry shook his head. “He was legal counsel for some little church in SoCal. The church had millions, and Stan had signatory power over their bank account. Over a period of time he diverted several million terros into his own private account in SiriusBank—”
“Sirius!”
Henry glanced up. “Stan was born in Missibama; he’s a Sirian citizen.”
“Go on.”
“Well…when he had enough stashed away to use for investment, he approached us about coming to Ceres.”
“Why Ceres? Why pick the asshole of the Solar System to start a business?”
Henry shrugged. “Stan’s a lawyer. He said the rock is populated by criminals and nobody pays much attention, because the water supply is too important to the Outer Worlds. He said the Federation would look the other way.”
“How did you guys know Cramer? If you were down on your luck, why would he hang out with a pair of losers?”
“We were members of the church I told you about. He knew us by reputation.”
“As losers?”
Henry scowled angrily. “As businessmen! He knew we were ambitious and wanted to make a success at something.”
“But he made himself senior partner so you couldn’t fuck it up for him.”
“I…guess you could put it that way.”
Nick smiled. “I just did. Okay, so your brother came to Ceres and tried to purchase Solar Agua, but they wouldn’t sell. What happened then?”
“Stan told us they would probably refuse to sell, but we should make the offer anyway. He was right—they refused the offer.”
“And you did what?”
“Nothing. We went on with our lives. Stan told us to be patient; he gave us money to live on. Nothing happened for a year or so, and we were thinking it was all over, then Stan called one day and told us to meet him on Mars. We were going to make the offer again.”
“And this time the offer was accepted?”
“Yes.”
“What made the difference the second time?”
“Agua Solar was crashing. Their stock had gone to shit and the government was on their back for safety violations. Their back was against the wall, so they took the offer.”
“For nine cents on the terro.”
“Something like that.”
“Why did their stock go south? Did you have anything to do with that?”
“I didn’t. Neither did Harvey. We were in California then. I know there were some accidents—”
Nick sneered. “Can you say ‘sabotage’?”
Henry inclined his head. “I don’t know if it was sabotage. I heard rumors, but I never asked any questions. I didn’t want to know.”
“So Cramer was responsible for all the death and destruction that befell Solar Agua during that period?”
“I can’t confirm that. All I know is that Harvey and I had nothing to do with it.”
Nick was silent for a moment, evaluating the story. Henry’s brow was furrowed in what passed for sincerity. Nick suspected much of what he was hearing was the truth, but had no illusions that Henry was telling him the whole story, or feeling repentant for his own misdeeds.
“Did you rape Monica Maynard?”
“I had sex with Monica. I never raped anybody.”
“You told me earlier tonight that you don’t fuck…black women. That was a lie?”
Henry scowled. “I’m not proud of it, but she’s a sexy bitch. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Did she initiate it, or did you?”
“She did. I just didn’t resist her.”
“Why would a happily married woman initiate a sexual adventure with someone like you?”
“Who said she was married?”
Nick frowned. “What?”
“Monica wasn’t married. Her husband was dead.”
“After you killed him. ‘Mining accident’, wasn’t it?”
Farrington stared at him as if he were crazy. “He was dead before she ever got here! He was killed in a bar fight three days after he landed on Ceres.”
“Bullshit! Why would Monica travel all the way out here if he was dead?”
Henry Farrington sighed in frustration. “Nobody knew who the guy was. He had just arrived and didn’t even have a job yet. Nobody contacted Monica because nobody had ever heard of her.”
“If that’s true, then how do you know all those details?”
“Monica told me. Once she arrived and found out what happened, she put all the pieces together herself.”
Nick didn’t believe him, but this was going nowhere; he moved on.
“So your relationship with her was one hundred percent consensual?”
“Yes. If anyone was reluctant, it was me.”
“But you held her son hostage.”
“Charley is my son, too. Monica had visiting rights.”
Nick’s eyebrows rose. “Visiting rights? Was there a custody hearing?”
Farrington shook his head. “She could see him whenever she wanted. It was a mutual arrangement. Her schedule was too hectic to raise a kid.”
Nick’s lips compressed into a grim line. Henry was lying through his teeth.
“Tell me about Jessica Garner.”
Henry glanced up. “That bitch attacked me with a stylus. I pressed charges. That’s all.”
“But once she was locked up in your facility, you raped her twice a week.”
“I never raped anybody. She sent word that she was sorry and wanted to make it up to me. She offered me sex as penance, and I took it.” He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? She’s a beautiful woman.”
“What did Nikki Green offer you?”
“I had nothing to do with Nikki Green. She was Cramer’s toy.”
Nick sat silent a moment, his blood chilling. “Was Cramer’s toy?”
Farrington locked eyes with him, and understood.
“As far as I know, she’s still alive.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Ask St—”
“Where, goddammit!”
“I don’t know! Ask Stan.”
Centerville - Ceres
It was nearly three in the morning when Nick arrived at the hospital. David Tarpington was under sedation and couldn’t talk to him. Turd Murdoch had undergone surgery for his laser wounds and was also out cold. Due to the hour, Shirley Chin was off duty, so there was no reason for Nick to remain at the hospital. He walked back out to his E-car and drove on over to Centerville.
Dead on his feet, he took the lift up to the fourth floor. He debated knocking on Monica’s door, but decided against it. She and Charley were probably asleep, and his investigation could wait four or five hours. Instead he went into his own room, changed clothes, and washed up (he would have used the shower but didn’t trust it; he might never use that shower again). He made a pot of coffee and sat at the table trying to think what he should do next.
Probably the smartest move was to get a few hours’ sleep, but that option didn’t seem feasible at the moment. Stan Cramer was loose on Ceres, and if he didn’t yet know that the U.F. Marshal had shut down Farrington Industries, he would before long. Nick already considered him a threat to potential witnesses and victims such as Jessica Garner…
Oh, God! Oh God!
Nick had mentioned Jessica Garner’s name in Monica’s chambers, in Cramer’s presence. In doing so he had violated the promise he’d made to Jessica, to keep her name out of his investigation. He’d felt safe when he did so, thinking Cramer would be locked up minutes later, but now he was free and at large. Even though Nick di
dn’t believe everything Henry Farrington had told him, he was convinced that Cramer was a dangerous man, in more ways than one; not only was he a force to be reckoned with in the business world, he was also capable of extreme violence.
Nick turned off the coffee pot, grabbed his gun belt, and bolted out of the room.
Ceres North - Ceres
Because of the hour, the artificial light had been turned off. Every habitat on Ceres was dark as a tomb, save for night lights spaced at intervals along the streets and walkways. As Nick followed a winding stone path to Jessica Garner’s apartment, the air was still; his heels rang against the stone and echoed back to him from nearby buildings. It was an eerie feeling, as if someone were lying in wait for him in the shadows. His heart pumped and his throat turned dry.
He drew his gun.
Jessica Garner’s apartment faced a rock wall not fifty yards away; in that respect, it was the least desirable location in the habitat. Nick mounted the stairs to the balcony that fronted the apartment, stepping slowly to keep the noise down, eyes and ears alert for danger. Maybe it was fatigue, or an overblown sense of drama, but his scalp tingled as he drew closer. He paused at the top step, gripping the railing with his left hand, looking right and left. The balcony was dimly lit, but no one was in sight. Nick turned left toward Jessica’s door, walking softly now, almost on tip-toe. For some reason his heart was racing, as if this were to be an inevitable showdown. He breathed deeply to fight the adrenaline.
He reached Jessica’s door…and stopped.
It stood open several inches. A light burned inside. Nick’s heart sank.
He swallowed hard, took another deep breath, and keeping to one side, nudged the door all the way open with the barrel of his gun. He stared for a moment, taking everything in. After a moment he stepped inside; one step, two. He stopped. The furniture was overturned, some of it broken. Fragments of glass and broken knick-knacks littered the floor. A laser shot had burned a hole in the wall near the ceiling…and a laser pistol lay on the floor. Nick’s tongue traced his upper lip as he took another few steps, expecting to find a body. But there was none.
He searched the kitchen, the bedroom, and the bath, but…