by S J Hunter
She gestured Chris to one side of the door and took the other, closest to the lock. When he nodded once, she pointed her Stinger at the ceiling and nodded. Chris reached across to deactivate the lock, the door swung open automatically, just as it was supposed to, and Livvy dashed through, sweeping the room with her Stinger and simultaneously moving to the side to allow Chris to enter behind her.
They heard a whimper and saw a lot of blood on both the walls and the floor, and then they saw Louie, standing in the middle of the efficiency and watching the door intently. He was wagging the whole rear of his body. The front half was scratched and gouged and bleeding, and one eye was almost swollen shut. At his feet there was a gun, and next to it, a finger.
Whimpering with excitement, Louie sat down and then quickly went down to a sternal position on the floor, then stood up and started wagging again.
“Good boy, Louie,” Livvy said, sparing Chris, who couldn’t have said anything if he’d tried. “Good boy.” At that, Louie bounded over, first to Chris and then to Livvy, still wagging his tail and occasionally whimpering.
“They’re long gone, aren’t they, boy?” Livvy said, closing and locking the door. At this point, that didn’t seem enough. It was a 20th century building with swing-open doors, and Livvy engaged the two additional interior locks. The external lock hadn’t kept them out the first time.
While Livvy wandered through the apartment, Chris got some warm water and towels and sat down stiffly on a low stool so he could clean away enough of the blood to determine the extent of Louie’s wounds.
“It’s an even bigger mess in here,” Livvy said, standing at the bathroom door. “The towel rack has been torn down, which we already knew, I guess. Someone lost a lot of blood before they found the medikit and the clotting powder. More blood than out there, even, if you can believe that. It’s all over the floor, with some piles of bloody bandages, and a saturated hand towel. It looks like it was a bit of an ordeal, putting on a bandage. I guess he isn’t ambidextrous. Too bad for him.”
Turning back towards the main room, she found Chris calling in a BOLO for a man with a traumatic finger amputation.
“Louie’ll do,” Chris said when he got off the comu. “Those gouges across his ribs are all superficial. Nothing penetrating. I want that eye looked at as soon as possible, though.”
“So the guy breaks in somehow, with his gun drawn and ready for a fight if necessary,” Livvy said, “but he probably knew you were gone. He came for your notes. Louie surprises him and… disarms him. Traumatically. Good boy, Louie. The guy dashes into the bathroom because it’s closer and anyway, he doesn’t have time to think. He maybe tries to wrap his hand in the towel, digs out whatever you had in there for treating wounds, improvises a weapon, and makes a dash for the door, with Louie harassing him the whole way,” she added, surveying the blood trail. “Probably not a professional or he would have had a back-up weapon, or maybe he just doesn’t think of it, with his injured hand and all.
“He makes it out, slamming the door to keep Louie inside, and discards the towel rack in disgust.” She’d found a very detailed footprint in blood and was getting a comu close-up of it, as well as close-ups of the finger and gun.
While she was talking, Chris had been scanning the apartment with his comu to create a video record. He went into the kitchen after he’d finished and found some plastene bags and tongs and held them out to Livvy. Although she made a face, she took them readily enough and used them to pick up and bag the bloody evidence: the finger, gun, and towel.
“Maybe you could sue the bastard,” Livvy said helpfully. “I guess we should take the weapon for fingerprints, and collect some of the blood, but do we really need it?” She picked up the bag with the finger, looked at it closely, and shook it in Chris’ direction.
“I think it’s an index finger. Makes sense. Louie got it when he took the gun,” she added.
Chris started walking purposefully around the room, checking to see if anything else had been disturbed and pulling out a few items and placing them on a chair at the table.
“Does there seem to be anything missing?” Livvy asked, standing over the table. “I don’t want to touch anything until you have a chance to check it.”
Chris gave the table top a cursory survey. “No, but that’s no surprise. There’s blood everywhere in the room but the area near the table.”
“Do you want to pack these?” she asked. “Even if we take everything, I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to find anything again if I shift your order.”
“No worry,” Chris said. “Just take them all.”
Livvy began piling memopads and CUs into a collapsible, and she looked up one more time. “I’m trying to maintain some sort of order, but…”
“There isn’t any, really,” Chris said after a beat.
“McGregor, what is it? You’re in white-knuckle mode and my guess is you don’t have as much experience with that as your age suggests.”
“I knew Bedford would be taking extreme measures to find out how we grew suspicious of him. This,” he said, making a dismissive gesture towards the bloody half of the room, “is my fault, but still not a big deal. Other than poor Louie… But it just means Bedford is still ahead of us. He’s winning.”
“Right. LLE. Proactive. All right, let’s figure out what we need to do,” Livvy said reasonably. “I would also like to point out that I was here last night too, and I didn’t think of it, and also, thanks to your foresight on the train, and Louie of course… thanks to Louie, Bedford hasn’t succeeded in anything he tried today.”
“The lab tech,” Chris said after a moment. “He may not like it, but I want him in WitSec as well. If Josephson has any reason to suspect this tech knows something, and they know we’ve talked to him, then he’s at risk.”
“OK. While you’re getting checked out at the Central clinic, I’ll talk to him, right after I take Louie in to the veterinarian. Brian, right? Will he come in?”
“Brian Clifford. Call him first, on your way to drop Louie off,” Chris said. “Tell him to make up a family emergency so he can take a few days off without attracting too much attention, and arrange to pick him up after he’s left work for the day, so his co-workers don’t see you. And tell him you’ll be in a WitSec room, too. He’ll come.
“I wish to hell we could bring Mickey and Jesse in, too. But we don’t have enough. They haven’t witnessed anything and I doubt if they’d come, and anyway I’m not sure they’d be safer there than in a villa in Italy.
“Are you going to be all right without a stop at your apartment?” Chris asked.
“Hotel room, remember? Sure, I can buy whatever I need,” Livvy said.
“I want to go and see Mickey and Jesse Bedford, today, to warn them about what they might be facing.”
“After you see a doctor,” Livvy said.
“No, now,” Chris said with a hint of impatience. Livvy opened her mouth for rebuttal, but Chris shook his head. “Look, I know I need my ribs taped, and I’ll take some pain meds if they’re offered, but I’m breathing fine now. What do you suppose would ease my conscience if Bedford gets to that boy before I warn them?”
“It needs to be done, and today, I agree, but I can do it,” Livvy said.
Chris picked up the carryall he’d filled with personal items for himself and Louie. “Bedford is still ahead of us, and we may be forcing him to speed up his schedule. When he tries to have two LLE detectives killed, it suggests that he is contemplating a significant move. He’s desperate.
“If we are going to get ahead of this man, we need to split up. I think I can manage to sit down with Mickey Bedford in her secure, comfortable home without risking further injury. I need you to take care of Louie and make sure Brian Clifford is safe. And then I need you to get them both into WitSec and yourself into the office to smooth things over with the Chief. At this point, I think that means a full verbal summary.”
“You’re kidding, right? The whole story?”
/> “You did say you had a knack, and I admit it, your version works.”
”But McGregor, I’m not sure the Chief likes me now, and after this…”
Chris shook his head. “So you pulled a few strings to get here. Let me know when you start raking in the big benefits of that manipulation. Meanwhile, you need to be very careful. And I’m trusting you with my dog and a witness.”
“You are ruthless. And you needn’t look like you think that’s a good thing,” Livvy said, picking up the box full of memotabs and CUs.
Chp. 11 Defense (Thursday)
Chris took a deep breath, fighting off the fatigue that threatened to prevent him from doing his work. How does one explain to a woman that her father-in-law, a man she’s known and presumably trusted for decades, is not only planning to kill her but his own grandson? Could any motivation explain something so incomprehensible to most sane people?
Even more worrisome were the constant reminders, at Isabella’s, at Josephson’s clinic, on the High Speed, in his own apartment, damn it, that Bedford was ahead of him all the way – more than fifty years ahead, to be honest. This was Chris’ only chance to change that now that he was convinced his suspicions were real. Before the events of the last few days he had never been sure he wasn’t taking something Karen had said about someone and granting it the elevated status of prophecy.
Unfortunately, he still had no evidence that would stand up to scrutiny in the courts; he had only his instincts and a cascade of events and connections that he found convincing but that meant nothing in terms of the Law. The evidence would have to come later, if at all, hard-won with work and persistence. In the meantime, in the face of that inadequate evidence, he had to convince Mickey Bedford of her danger.
Although also brunette and vaguely exotic, the woman sitting before him was otherwise quite different from Paula Bedford. Whereas Paula had been tall and slender, Mickey was petite and somewhat voluptuous. Chris reminded himself that he wasn’t dealing with sisters. Paula was John Bedford’s daughter; Micaela was the woman his son had chosen to marry.
Mickey, who had been on her way to some social engagement, was wearing a short, skin-tight dress of some color Chris recognized as a shade of blue – it shifted to a different shade every time Mickey moved, as though it was part of a tropical sea. The effect was guaranteed to attract attention as she walked across a room. Livvy would probably recognize the material, Chris thought, and appreciated what it said about the woman who chose to wear it. As she seated herself on the spotless white sofa across from him, Mickey focused on Chris for the first time.
“My sister-in-law called and asked me to see you, Mr. McGregor. I have very little time this afternoon. I have an engagement I simply cannot miss this evening, I have number of other engagements I have to cancel, and then we leave for Italy tomorrow, and I still have to pack this afternoon,” Mickey said. “Paula has said there is some imminent danger to me and to Jesse, and on that basis, because she was very insistent, I accepted her invitation to join her at her family villa for a while. She also said I should listen to you.” She tossed her hair back and used a perfectly manicured hand to make sure it was in place, then flashed him a brilliant but vague smile.
“Where did you say you were from, again?”
“I’m a detective from LLE – Longevity Law Enforcement.”
“Yes, I know what it means, of course, but I thought you only dealt with things like Longevity fraud and illegal enhancements. That sort of thing. Paula said you wanted to warn me about a possible kidnapping. She said that your warning to her was responsible for her impromptu invitation, although, of course, she said it much more charmingly.” She held up a hand to forestall him, smiling disarmingly to soften it.
“You understand that people in our position are inured to the threat of kidnapping and I have always been very diligent when it comes to security. However, if you have information about something specific, I am happy to listen. Surely by going to Italy we are forestalling any plot that you may have heard about.”
“Is your son here with you?” Chris asked.
“If you mean in the house, yes, and I know Paula asked if Jesse could be present as well, but Jesse is with his tutor,” Mickey said. “Children nowadays mature so much more slowly and I’ve always tried to make sure that Jesse had a normal childhood. It is hard enough… I don’t expose him to these concerns about kidnapping unless it is unavoidably necessary to keeping him safe.”
“I understand,” Chris said. “I wonder, Ms. Bedford, if you could give me a picture of your son?”
“Mickey, please. I don’t mean to be disobliging or to imply that I don’t trust you, but I would prefer not. It is just one of my security measures, to keep people from recognizing Jesse.”
“I see,” Chris said. “I suppose your father-in-law was happy to advise you on such matters.”
“Of course, who else would have Jesse’s safety so much at heart? And he has so much experience in arranging his own security. But Detective McGregor,” Mickey said, nodding graciously at him to show she was pleased to have gotten it right, “you still haven’t explained what LLE has to do with a kidnapping threat against my son.”
“Your son seems to have led a very secluded life,” Chris said.
Mickey may have sensed some disapproval, and her next words took on a slight defensive tone. “Perhaps more than you are used to, but then his grandfather is both extremely wealthy and has many enemies.”
“And he has been careful to remind you of this, and to advise you on this aspect of your security, as well?” Chris asked.
Mickey’s patience had worn out. “Of course,” she said thinly.
“Ms Bedford… Mickey, I’m sorry to have tried your patience, but it’s your father-in-law that I have to warn you about,” Chris said finally.
“I… I don’t understand,” Mickey said. “What are you saying? John is extremely wealthy. He has no need of Jesse’s inheritance from his father.”
“It’s not money I’m talking about, Ms Bedford.”
“Then…?”
Chris continued to watch her steadily as she thought through the possibilities. She had to know Bedford well enough to have glimpsed the obsession that Paula understood all too well.
“No, it is too fantastic. I must thank your… good intentions, I’m sure, but I have no time for nonsensical…” Mickey stood up and her gaze on Chris had hardened. She didn’t believe him, and now didn’t trust him.
“Detective McGregor, you must please excuse me. I will send Robert to see you out.” She started to turn away.
“Ms. Bedford,” Chris said, keeping his tone both rational and persuasive. “Please listen. I need to be brutally frank with you, and you need to decide if you can believe me. I ask you to remember that your sister-in-law, John Bedford’s daughter, already has heard everything I’m going to say, and has asked you to listen to me.
“I have good reason to believe that John Bedford plans to kidnap Jesse and exchange identities with him.” It was as bald a statement of his suspicions as Chris had ever made, even to himself, and even now it made him feel a little sick. It stopped Mickey Bedford in her tracks, and she stared at him. At one point she started to say something, then she appeared to think better of it and her eyes unfocused. She was thinking, and remembering, Chris was glad to see.
“But how could he? Jesse would never agree. I would never agree. Paula herself would never agree.”
“I know,” Chris said. “I am sure of all that.” Chris watched Mickey absorb this. She had neither Paula’s innate intelligence, nor her willingness to easily accept such a stark assessment of John Bedford. But she was thinking through the implications, and probably reconciling her own experiences of her distant father-in-law with what Chris was saying about him.
“But no, this is unbelievable,” Mickey said, and for the first time Chris picked up a hint on an accent, although he didn’t recognize the origin. She began to pace, with her arms pressed protectively across he
r midriff as Paula had done. “You must be mistaken somehow.”
Chris let her alone to think it through.
“How could anyone? Unthinkable.” Mickey stood in the middle of the floor as though undecided which way to move. Chris knew she was a chronological 55, but at the moment she seemed as lost as the 21 year-old she looked to be.
“The DNA mapping, and how…?”
“Ms Bedford,” Chris said. “I have worked in LLE for longer than you have lived, and I will tell you that there is nothing, nothing that money cannot arrange or buy. These matters are not a problem for someone with resources and uncommon persistence, and not the issue for John Bedford. What he wants, what he believes he needs, is a legitimate long-term identity that he can assume so that he can live unchallenged for another lifetime. With his intact fortune at his disposal, as well. Unfortunately, I am able to remind you that people have murdered other people, sometimes their own family members, for far less. Tell me, in terms of appearance, meaning height and features, are Jesse and John similar?”
Mickey nodded slowly. “Similar enough.”
“And both have lived in seclusion. I need to ask you if there was some additional security measure that you have considered lately, and that you may have mentioned to your father-in-law?” Chris asked.
Mickey placed her fingers on her lips briefly, then said, “Yes. There is a new kind of injectable tracer that after it is injected cannot be located for extraction and cannot be jammed. Last Thursday I told John that I was arranging it for Jesse, along with an early pre-reset mapping, for security. I haven’t done them yet. I thought he would be pleased,” she added bitterly. “He told me not to rush into it, that he would investigate it for me, but he did not say what his concerns were.”
Much as Paula had done, Mickey came up with a word that came close to accurately describing John’s plan. “If it is true, it is diabolical. Please understand, I do not doubt that you are sincere, I just cannot believe…