War Song (The Rift Chronicles Book 2)

by BR Kingsolver

“Joseph and Elaine Greer.”

  Solidly in the Hundred, maybe top twenty-five or thirty. I had known a couple of their grandkids, or maybe great-grandkids. The Greer Family was big in chemicals.

  I wheeled about and crossed the sitting room to the outside door. No evidence it had been forced. Stepping out on the balcony, I looked around and saw a table with four chairs, one of which lay on its side. A three-pronged grappling hook still hung on the balcony railing, its rope dangling down to the garden below.

  “Secure all of the security videos,” I said. “Send their security chief to me. All of the security personnel are to be considered suspects. I want them all disarmed and detained. I want as few people as possible in that garden and on the lawn until the sun comes up and forensics can properly search the area.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He scuttled off, leaving me to scan the area.

  I pulled a set of night goggles out of my pocket and put them on. Magikally enhanced, and with magnification, the goggles gave me the ability to scan the area between the balcony and the outside wall thirty yards away.

  Unless the Greers’ guardians were in on the plot, someone had managed to scale a ten-foot wrought-iron fence with spikes on top—probably with embedded sensors—make their way across an open expanse of lawn, climb over a four-foot-high stone wall surrounding a garden, skirt a bunch of rose bushes, and climb a rope up to the balcony. Then he or she entered the house—all of that without being seen—walked through the master suite, and beat the Greers to death with an axe. After that, he or she made their escape out the balcony again.

  Assuming they escaped.

  I pulled out my phone. “Dispatch, I want the area around the Greer mansion in Roland Park completely closed off to non-official traffic, foot and vehicle. In and out. I want every available man out here as soon as possible. We may have a killer on the loose in the area. I also want at least two magik detectors here on the double. And ask Deputy Commissioner Whittaker to call me at his earliest convenience.”

  When I hung up, I found a man in Greer colors with stars on the epaulets of his uniform waiting for me. His face reminded me a little of a bulldog, and I could see the muscles in his jaw clenching.

  “I’m General Gustav Braun, Director of Security.”

  “Thank you for coming so quickly. I’m Lieutenant Danica James, Metropolitan Police.” I showed him my badge. In a case like that, every little detail had to be perfect.

  He shot a glance through the open door to the bedroom. We hadn’t moved the bodies yet, but seven people dressed in white forensics uniforms were busy in the room. Braun seemed to pale a little, and I didn’t blame him.

  I led him out to the balcony and ran through my reasoning. “General, I find it extremely strange that someone could do all that without detection. Or don’t you have the normal security precautions in place?”

  “I understand the question, but I don’t like the implications,” he responded. “I’ll order an immediate investigation.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll tell your men—all your men, all the servants, no matter what their duties—to stand down and turn in their arms. Security will be provided by the Metro Police and the Magi Council. I will spare you dealing with the family. Sergeant Novak and I will take care of that. I have given orders that no one leaves the premises, and anyone trying to get in will be detained. As a matter of courtesy, after you’ve handed me your sidearm, you will remain free to assist with my investigation.”

  He took a deep breath, straightened, and puffed his chest out, but he still wasn’t tall enough to look me straight in the eye. We had a staring contest for a minute or so, then he deflated. We both knew that I was following protocol, and it was in his interest to cooperate. Using two fingers, he drew his pistol from its holster and handed it to me.

  “Thank you, General. I appreciate the indignity of your situation, and I promise I’ll try not to add to it. I’m going to need your help, and if you have any ideas or suggestions, I’ll be glad to hear them. I don’t like anything I’m seeing any better than you do.”

  He nodded.

  “If you could, please assist my sergeant in rounding up your men, collecting their arms, and provide a secure place for them to wait until we can interview them.”

  After he left, I started my own search through the house and cancelled every magitek device I came across. A couple of times, that left me in the dark, but I had the night goggles to help me find the nearest light switch.

  That’s what I was doing when Novak found me, about forty minutes after I showed up. He had a lot longer drive in from his Family estate in the country.

  “What’s up?” he asked. “I saw the crime scene. What are you doing?”

  I told him, then said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t see any way this was a family member. Disgruntled employee? Maybe. Find out from the staff where Greer’s private office is, and check to see if there are any letters like those HLA manifestos Carpenter received. I’ll have Whittaker send a detail to their office building as soon as it turns light.”

  “Yeah, makes sense. I’ll get on it.”

  “And have someone start calling around to find out who sold that axe. I can’t imagine there are that many stores in the city selling axes. Hell, I’m not even sure where to start looking.”

  “You’re not a gardener,” he said. “I’ll ask the Greers’ gardener.”

  “So, maybe the killer didn’t bring it with him?”

  Novak shrugged and went away, while I continued my search for magitek devices.

  Kirsten probably would have known about gardens and axes, but growing up with my mom, I’d never seen one in real life, only in vids. Elves didn’t use tools to work with wood, and they certainly didn’t cut down trees.

  Whittaker called twenty minutes later, and I told him what had happened and what I had done so far. He promised that a force of mercenaries would arrive within an hour, and told me that more cops were already on the way.

  “You’re doing fine,” he said. “Stick to protocol, and try not to offend anyone.”

  “I’m trying. Their security head was a little put out, but he’s a professional, and I promised I would keep him inside the investigation.”

  “A good idea. I’ve known Gustav for more than thirty years, and I would be shocked if he was involved in killing Joseph and Elaine.”

  Chapter 8

  Deputy Commissioner Whittaker showed up at the scene around eight o’clock in the morning. He was always an early bird who gave me grief because I wasn’t a morning person. I almost said something to him about being late, but he handed me a cup of hot coffee that smelled of caramel, and I shut up and took a sip.

  Tom Whittaker was the head of his Family, which specialized in security services, including police, security guards, and military units, along with manufacturing arms and munitions. My paycheck actually came from one of the Whittaker companies, and the Metropolitan Police Force was a private enterprise contracted to the Council.

  He brought a company of mercenaries wearing his Family colors with him, and they quickly assumed responsibility for the security of the Greer estate. That freed up a lot of cops for other duties.

  He stood at the Greers’ bedroom door and surveyed the scene.

  “A little bit of overkill, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I think it was intended to send a message,” I replied. “Not sure who the message is for, though.”

  “No notes, messages, claims of responsibility?”

  “We haven’t found anything, although I have Novak looking through Mr. Greer’s office. I wondered if it could be connected to the Carpenter murder.”

  I led him through my reasoning concerning the killer’s entrance and exit, then told him I had disabled all the magitek devices I could find.

  “I haven’t found one that could provide invisibility, though. So, I’m thinking that illusion magik is a lot more common than magitek. It could be a mage, a witch, or a Fae.”

  “Someone
covered by an illusion should still show up on CCTV and trip lasers or motion detectors,” Whittaker said.

  “That’s where I’m headed now, to go through their video and electronic logs.”

  “Keep me informed. I have a meeting with the Greers’ children in half an hour, and we’ll see what comes of that.”

  The security monitoring room was in an annex on the north side of the main house. Two burly cops guarded the door, and another cop sat on a bench in the hallway with a woman in Greer colors.

  “This is the computer operator,” the cop on the bench told me. “Didn’t know if you’d need her for anything.”

  “Good thinking,” I said. I smiled at the Greer computer specialist. “All I need is the administrator’s password.”

  “I can’t give you that without authorization.”

  I nodded to the cop. “Go find General Braun and either get a written order for me, or ask him to join us.”

  The cop trotted off, and I took his place on the bench.

  “You were on duty last night?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I came on at eleven.”

  “And everything was normal with the systems? Everything working correctly?”

  She nodded, then took a deep, shaky breath. “I didn’t check the logs. I relieved Jurgen, and he said everything was nominal, and I took his word for it.” She twisted in her seat to face me, her manner earnest. “We have state of the art systems. The servers were replaced last year, the software updated and patched last summer. We haven’t had any problems in over a year.”

  “You checked all the cameras, though? The alarms?”

  “Of course. We have a checklist, and we have to log the status of all the cameras and sensors. It would be my job if I didn’t take that seriously.”

  “Are you a mage?”

  “Yes, ma’am. An electrokinetic.” She shrugged and glanced down. “Not very strong. I’m not a James or anything like that.”

  “You know who I am?”

  “I’ve seen you on the media vids. The Carpenter murders. Believe me, after that happened, General Braun made it clear nothing like that was going to happen here. We went through a complete security check over the past two days.”

  I wondered who—outside the Greer Family and employees—knew about that security check. And whether anyone from outside was involved. It would be so easy to open up a system, test it, and flip a couple of switches before you logged out.

  “How much magitek do you use in the security systems?” I asked.

  “The controller for the peripheral sensors on the fence and the gates. Other than that, none.”

  “You upgraded the servers and the central software. Did you replace any of the TV cameras or peripherals or alarms?”

  She shook her head and I sighed. If anyone knew about that single point of failure, a magitek would have no problem disabling the sensors on the fence. I would have to determine if that would send an alert.

  It took me two hours working through the system before I was able to test the magitek controller. It looked like it was working. It gave me all the proper feedback and passed all the standard tests. The only problem was that I could have driven an armored personnel carrier through the fence, and the sensors wouldn’t have transmitted anything to the central monitoring station. The controller sent its alerts to another magitek device hidden in a tree across the street from the Greer estate. Forensics didn’t find any prints on the device.

  “Could a non-magitek set all that up?” Whittaker asked me.

  “Not a chance. A magitek had to re-program that controller. Not only a magitek, but someone with computer training.”

  “Would he have to physically access it?” Novak asked.

  I shook my head and held out the box I found in the tree. “I don’t even have to physically touch this. I could sit at that bus stop down at the corner and do it all. But the test logs show that the intrusion system was working properly yesterday morning. Someone tampered with it sometime after three o’clock yesterday afternoon. We need to find that guy Jurgen.”

  It was well past noon by the time Novak and I managed to get out of the Greers’ house and hit Jenny’s for something to eat.

  “We know how, but we don’t know who,” Novak said as we waited for our meals.

  “That’s why we’re going to visit Jurgen as soon as I finish rebalancing my blood sugar and caffeine levels. Six cups of coffee and no food has me so jittery my eyeballs rattle. What have you found out about Carpenter’s younger kids?”

  Novak opened his mouth, then closed it, and gave me a quizzical expression. When he spoke, he said, “Your mind takes as many sudden turns as your driving. What has you thinking about Carpenter’s kids?”

  “That young lady working the monitors at Greer’s. She’s about the same age as Carpenter’s youngest daughter, and she screwed up because she’s got the hots for that Jurgen fellow. She trusted him instead of doing her job.”

  “And the connection?”

  “The HLA. Idealistic radicals are romantic. Look at how many romance novels have good girls falling for bad boys.”

  “I never read any romance novels.”

  I rolled my eyes and leaned back to allow the brownie waitress to set my fish and chips down on the table. “And you consider yourself educated.”

  Novak chuckled. “I thought the HLA were anti-magik. How does that fit with using magitek?”

  “Fight fire with fire. Everyone agrees the bombings of the Palaces of Commerce here and in Prague were magitek-enhanced. And I haven’t found anything that says the HLA is anti-magik. They’re anti-Magi, anti-magiocracy. There are a lot of mages who aren’t from the ruling Families who don’t like the current system. Besides, magiteks are mainly blue-collar mages. We work in the factories, we don’t own them. Name a single Family in the Hundred that is known for magitek.”

  “James used to be.”

  “Yeah, and the Magi have made damned sure we know our place. There are more laws and regulations with my name on them than I can count. I’m barred from owning a magitek factory. I can sell the devices I make, but I can’t employ more than two people to help me make them. And there’s a list—as long as my arm—of devices that I’m not allowed to make except under special license granted to Families in the Hundred.”

  He stared at me, blushing a little, then looked down at his plate. “I didn’t know that.”

  I took a bite of my fish and burned my mouth. Deciding to let it cool down a little, I leaned forward and said, “My grandmother said that Findlay’s intelligence operatives are hearing of discontent among the smaller Families about the rule of the Magi. It’s not just the ungifted who think the wealth should be shared.”

  “And who do they think is going to hold the demons in check?” Mychal asked.

  With a shrug, I said, “We fought the demons in our own self-interest. I’m not sure that entitles us to shit in golden toilets while people starve.”

  Chapter 9

  Jenny let me park my bike inside her back fence, and we took the cop car down to the harbor to look for Jurgen Schwartz. The address we had was in Highlandtown, an area with three hundred-year-old rowhouses that had been renovated so many times that the original owners wouldn’t recognize them. In the early twentieth century, the homes had been cheap houses built for dock workers, but I figured Jurgen’s place would sell for two or three times the price of my house in Lauraville.

  We parked on the street around the corner from Jurgen’s house. It was one of the larger ones, three stories from the street with a walk-out basement in back.

  I sent Mychal down the alley to cover the back door while I approached the house from the front. A glance down at the sidewalk brought me to a halt. There was a blood trail leading to Jurgen’s front door. Looking back, I saw that it abruptly ended at a vacant parking place on the street.

  I rang the bell and waited. When I didn’t get a response, I spelled the locks on the door and cautiously pushed it open.

  Jurge
n wasn’t the most fastidious housekeeper, but I didn’t know many young men who were. The place wasn’t half-bad, the décor about thirty years out of date. As with most of the old rowhouses, it was twelve feet wide, and there weren’t any dividing walls on the ground floor. The blood trail continued across the living room and up the stairs in front of me. But there was another blood trail that split from the one I’d been following and led in the other direction, to the rear of the dwelling.

  I walked through the living room, dining room and into the kitchen to open the backdoor for Mychal.

  “He’s not home?” Mychal asked in a low voice when he entered.

  I motioned to the stairs leading from the kitchen to the basement and the evident blood splatters. “You check that out, and I’m going upstairs.”

  I found a lot more blood in the hall upstairs. A bloody knife lay on the floor where one blood trail originated. Five feet farther was a splash of blood against the wall and the door frame with a bullet hole in the middle. Whoever had been shot had slid down the wall to the floor. He or she hadn’t stayed there and left the second blood trail when they crawled down the hall, made it to their feet, or were picked up by someone else, and descended the stairs.

  When Mychal joined me, he said, “Bled all the way to the back door in the basement, outside, then the blood disappears on the parking pad. No car.”

  We called dispatch and asked for a murder team, then we searched the rest of the house. One of the three bedrooms on the second floor served as an office. The walls were decorated with HLA posters, and we found pamphlets and other HLA literature.

  “Well, your instincts were right,” Mychal said. “He definitely was HLA.”

  “Yeah, and they’re proving to be a ruthless bunch. Axe-murdering old ladies and eliminating witnesses. Maybe Jurgen was considered a weak link.”

  Mychal nodded. “An identifiable link. You forgot to mention using bombs for mass murder.”

  “Yeah, that, too. Search this place. Any names, phone numbers, addresses, no matter what they’re written on.”