Investigating Deceit

by Michael Anderle

  Erik didn’t see any reason to play nice with the obvious question. “You hate his guts, and you think he cheated you. That means you’d have a lot of reasons to want to hurt him. That makes you an obvious suspect.”

  “Yes, it does.” Laya kept staring out at the flitters, cool hunger in her eyes. “I can’t deny that, but let me ask you something, Detective Blackwell. If I were the one responsible for threatening my husband, don’t you think I would have a lawyer here? Do you think I’d be admitting to all of this so openly?”

  “You might just think you’re too smart for two idiot cops,” Jia suggested. “You’d be surprised at how many people we run into who believe that.”

  Laya narrowed her eyes, which flashed with anger. “I know who you two are, and I know the kinds of people you’ve brought down. You can dig all you want, but I guarantee I’m not the one threatening my husband, no matter how much fun it might be.” She laughed, the sound hollow and bitter. “I’m not complaining, mind you. It’d be deliciously appropriate if he ended up with a bullet in his brain, but I understand something very important about revenge, something that makes me hope you catch whoever is harassing him quickly and before they hurt him.”

  A formation of cargo drones zoomed by only about ten meters away, probably going to deliver to a port somewhere in the tower. Erik watched them, suspicious. They would make an excellent bomb delivery mechanism, but they left his line-of-sight without a single explosion.

  “What is that?” Erik turned back to her. “Is this one of those things where you understand you probably hate him more than he hates you?”

  “Considering how much I hate him, I don’t doubt that at all, but it’s not important.” Laya offered him an icy smile. “The thing I’ve realized is, what good is revenge that ends too quickly? If Louis dies, he won’t be able to suffer. I’ve got a better way of making him suffer, and that requires him to live for at least a few more years.”

  “Torture?” Erik guessed.

  “I’m not a frontier barbarian, Detective.” Laya tore her attention away from the outside and folded her arms, a euphoric look on her face. “I’m going to earn the money I deserve while also embarrassing Louis to the point that his career is ruined. Once he’s fired and exiled from corporate society, maybe he’ll end up, as you suggested, in a Shadow Zone alley, knowing that I ruined him. Then and only then should he die, stabbed by another bottom-feeding criminal over the last dumpling in the garbage.”

  Erik was impressed that Laya had refined her bitterness to the point of employable tactics.

  It reminded him of his obsession with avenging his unit, even if he thought a bad marriage was a far cry from dozens of men and women being ambushed and murdered.

  Jia’s look suggested she thought the woman only marginally more sane than the Grayhead terrorists they’d faced in Florida. “How are you going to do that? If his high-powered lawyers already won against your efforts in the divorce, what’s your master plan to get your revenge?”

  Laya gave Jia a pitying look. “I gave up a promising career of my own to help support my ex-husband. I had corporate connections to begin with, and I used those, along with my social and political skills, to help his career. I met a lot of people along the way who I flattered to help my husband, and I understand corporate social networks with the same intimacy my ex-husband understands his genetic research. I’m currently writing a roman a clef that will show the world just how pathetic both Louis and the corp supporting him are, a record of their pathetic and corrupt nature.”

  “What’s a roman a clef?” Erik asked.

  Laya rolled her eyes as she snorted in derision.

  Erik could have sworn Jia’s hand moved toward her stun pistol before she dropped it.

  “It’s a novel that uses real events and people,” she explained. “You just barely change the names and fictionalize a few events here and there. The idea is, you can trash people, but they can’t claim libel. That kind of thing.”

  “Oh, so it’s a book where one bitches about her ex?” Erik asked. “That’s your big plan?” Amusement infused his words.

  Laya rolled her eyes so hard it looked like she was having a seizure. “I’d expect you two, of all people, to understand the value of this work. In the current social environment, it will be successful. People are craving anti-corporate narratives, which is why they’ve uplifted you two mid-level detectives into some sort of sad plebian folk heroes. I don’t have to do anything illegal or violent to triumph over my husband. I will become wealthy, and he’ll be destroyed as a side-effect.” She smiled and moved her shoulders in a rolling shrug as if to say, “It’s perfect.”

  “I’m beginning to think there are other reasons your husband might have divorced you,” Jia suggested cheerfully.

  Laya sat back on the couch and crossed her legs, an irritated expression lingering. “Think whatever you want, but I told you all this to make it clear I’m not threatening my husband. If anything, I’ve changed my mind. You stopping his killers is more useful for my future novel sales. If he dies, he’ll become a martyr, and people won’t be as receptive to my truth about the kind of man he was.” Her face made her disgust at the idea clear.

  “Understood,” Erik replied. “And we’re cops, so we do try to keep people from getting murdered.” He looked at Jia. She nodded. “If there’s anything you think we need to know, you know how to get hold of us. For now, we’ll leave you to your writing.”

  “Very well, Detective. Keep in mind, if you ever would like to discuss things in a less formal situation, I’m amenable to that as well.” The earlier anger was absent from her voice, leaving something almost sultry.

  Jia’s red face and twitching hand told him it was a good time to leave.

  Eric nodded. “We’ll be leaving now.”

  Jia didn’t speak until they were in the MX 60. “There’s an unpleasant woman, not that Chen’s a prize.”

  Erik chuckled as he pulled his flitter away from the landing platform, dropping into the nearest lane heading in the right direction. “She’s definitely not the warm and fuzzy type. I’d say I was surprised he married her, but he does seem pretty clueless, and maybe she’s great in bed.”

  “Does that mean you think she’s lying about not wanting him dead yet?” Emma asked. “I took the liberty of checking public records and press releases. She does have a novel contract; that much is true. They don’t mention anything other than it being a forthcoming ‘scathing corporate satire.’”

  “Being unpleasant and being a criminal are two separate things,” Jia admitted. “As twisted as it sounds, I think everything she told us is the truth. I think she really believes she’ll be able to destroy her husband’s reputation with her book, and he’ll be run out of proper society because of it. Hating your ex isn’t a crime either. There wouldn’t be enough cops in the world to deal with it if it were.”

  Erik stared at a rearview camera for a few seconds as the image of the residential tower grew smaller. “Yeah. Not only that, but why wait so long to do something? It’s been a year since the divorce was finalized. It doesn’t make much sense to start trouble now, especially with her big book plans.”

  Jia looked concerned. “Unless it’s a publicity stunt? After what happened with the Leem King, that kind of thing doesn’t seem crazy. Maybe disaffected young men weren’t the only ones inspired.”

  Erik glanced at her. “What does your gut tell you?”

  “That she’s a bitter woman who probably thinks shooting people is for the low-class scum like us,” Jia answered.

  Erik grinned. “Lady Justice or her alter ego, the Corp Princess, is low-class scum?”

  Jia rolled her eyes, but there was a playfulness there that was lacking when Laya did the same thing. “You were an officer in the UTC Army. You’re not exactly some guy slinging fruit in the Shadow Zone.”

  “If it makes either of you feel better,” Emma began, “my disrespect isn’t meted out based on human status.”

  Both ch
uckled.

  “Sure, it’s all relative.” Erik maneuvered the MX 60 below a walkway choked with people. “But I agree. She’s a dead end. It’s got to be something directly related to his research. He’s not a random target.”

  “I agree.” Discomfort consumed Jia’s face. “Can I admit something else?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Jia shook her head. “My instincts also tell me there’s something else much bigger than a single researcher being threatened.”

  “You’re probably right, given the way the Lady likes to mess with us.” Erik gave a relaxed shrug. “As long it doesn’t end with us bringing down a tower, it’ll be a win. Let’s see if the company has something useful to tell us. The personnel records will help narrow down the potential suspects.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lan smiled across the table at Mei.

  She’d been wanting to eat at the Hanging Gardens for a while, but she’d had trouble coming up with a sufficient excuse. Jia, of course, wouldn’t appreciate the glories of the tower-top open-air restaurant, but her other daughter was less troubled by what some narrow-minded people might call pretentiousness.

  There was hope for Jia, and Lan treasured her, as she did all her family members, but it was obvious she wouldn’t grow out of her police phase anytime soon. It was her duty as Jia’s mother to guide her daughter to a pleasant future, regardless of her choices.

  For that to happen, she would need the help of Jia’s sister.

  A rich, floral scent from the colorful blooms surrounding their table filled Lan’s nostrils, complementing the taste of her tea. She’d been worried that unsightly vehicles might damage her enjoyment of the meal, but there wasn’t a flitter or drone close enough to appear as more than a dark spot in the distance.

  They were easy to ignore.

  “It’ll be about twenty minutes before the amuse-bouche,” Lan explained to Mei. “The waitress explained right before you came. I arrived at an inopportune time. They’re terribly sorry.”

  Under normal circumstances, such a slight might have angered her, but the godlike view of the towers of Neo SoCal was breathtaking. The long lines of dark dots flowing below and around when she leaned past the fruit trees providing the natural wind barriers for the Hanging Gardens were almost hypnotic. It was hard to become angry over late food when surrounded by such glorious sights and smells.

  Mei smiled and ran her fingers over the hand-carved wooden table. “It’s fine, Mother. I’m not all that hungry, but I didn’t want to pass a chance up to visit this restaurant. I’m still on the waiting list. I wouldn’t have been able to eat here until next year.”

  “I pulled in a few favors,” Lan offered, pride in her voice. “But we’re not just here for the experience. I wanted to talk to you about your sister. She might be blunt with both of us, but that’s not always the same thing as being forthcoming about her true feelings, and I have concerns. However, with darkness comes the light, and I also see signs of hope.”

  Mei’s eyebrows rose in suspicion. “You see signs of hope? You’re talking about Corbin? Did she say something the other day?”

  “Perhaps.” Lan leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. The closest other patrons were mostly blocked by a dense hedge, and the lack of their voices reaching her table indicated technological solutions among the plants. “Do you know what Jia had me do the other day? I was stunned. I thought she was joking at first.”

  “What?” Mei’s concern grew on her face. “If it was something too bizarre, she would have at least mentioned it to me.”

  “She asked me to teach her my roast duck recipe,” Lan admitted. “She must be getting serious about Corbin. She doesn’t cook for others, not after the incident.”

  Mei grimaced and set her tea down. “That was a long time ago, and it’s not like she never cooks at home. Plus, he got out of the hospital the next day.” She thought for a moment. “It wasn’t that bad. I know she was embarrassed, but there’s no reason to keep worrying about the past.”

  “You say that, but she’s never asked for my help, and she made it clear this wasn’t just for her.” Lan didn’t want to ruin the moment by pointing out that Mei hadn’t asked for the recipe. Her eldest demonstrated her respect in different ways. Seeking perfection was the path of alienation. Her own mother had made that mistake. “The only thing I’m confused about is why she’s doing this now. She doesn’t want to bring Corbin to meet me, and she’s complained about a lack of spark that makes me think she’s not very enthusiastic about him, but wanting to cook for him proves there’s something there.”

  Mei sighed. “She’s admitted a few things to me that make me wonder, as well. Since this is the first relationship she’s had in a while that has lasted more than a few dates, she might want to use it as training.”

  “That does sound like something your sister would do.” Lan picked up her tea to take another sip. “But that doesn’t fill me with confidence. She’s finally moving forward, and I’m concerned she’ll stall again for foolish reasons.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that, Mother.”

  “Why would you say that? We both know how long it took her to get to this point. There’s no guarantee that if she leaves Corbin or he becomes bored with her, she’ll find someone else appropriate anytime soon, especially someone who’ll tolerate her career choice.”

  Mei’s sudden eager smile took Lan off-guard. “No, don’t you see? Before, the problem was that she was a police officer, and many suitable potential men didn’t find that appealing.”

  “How have things changed?” Lan frowned. “The last time I checked, she was still a police officer. She has the ambition and intelligence of all Lin women, but her lack of political acumen is likely to limit her ability to rise much beyond her current rank. That will, in turn, limit our matchmaking opportunities if she refuses to quit—and if that were going to happen, it already would have.”

  “You don’t understand.” Mei’s face turned serious. “She’s not a simple police officer anymore. She’s Lady Justice, the woman in the news all the time. One of the Heroes of Halloween, a police officer who helped saved hostages by shooting through a wall. Jia and her partner are personally associated with anticorruption efforts in Neo SoCal. You could argue they are the face of reform in the metroplex.”

  Lan’s breath caught, her eyes opening a fraction in surprise. “You’re right. I’ve been taking it for granted, even worrying that it would hurt her, but it isn’t gaudy fame or infamy. It’s the entire world knowing my daughter is so good at what she does that even those in power should fear her.”

  A hungry grin replaced the relaxed smile of a moment ago.

  “Exactly. It doesn’t matter if her relationship ends with Corbin. Before, the problem was getting anyone interested, but my carefully curated list of possibilities has become unnecessary. Men who weren’t interested before are contacting me now, asking if Jia’s available. Her popularity is exploding.”

  “Excellent.” Lan leaned back, basking in maternal glory. “At this rate, we’ll have her married within a year. I knew all we had to do was be patient.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  January 22, 2229, Neo Southern California Metroplex, 46 Helix Tower, Administrative Level

  Jia put her hand over her mouth to stifle her long yawn. “I wish we could have done this yesterday. I’m already annoyed.”

  The two detectives marched in lockstep down a bright 46 Helix hallway heading toward the HR office. They’d contacted the company, only to be told they would get a callback at “some point in the future.” Erik and Jia decided that twenty-four hours was as long as they were willing to wait. Their investigation wasn’t going to stall out because a corporation was worried about PR and covering their asses.

  “We gave them their chance,” Erik muttered. “Were you up all night obsessing about the case?”

  Jia shook her head, her cheeks burning. “It’s nothing. I just had a weird dream, and I had trouble getting bac
k to sleep. It had nothing to do with the case.”

  Erik gave her a concerned sidelong look. “I know more than the average guy about nightmares. I’m no psych, but it might help to talk about it.”

  Her color deepened until it approached the fine ruddy complexion one might associate with a boiled lobster. “It’s nothing like that. Not at all.” They stopped in front of the HR office. “It’s just…” She sighed. “I had a semi-nightmare that my mother and sister had gotten together, jumped me, stuffed me in some sort of pod, and shipped me off halfway across the galaxy to marry a prince of some weird planet rebelling against the UTC.”

  “Marry an insurrectionist prince?” Erik stared at her, disbelief on his face. “I don’t know what I find weirder—that scenario or the idea that your mother would stand for you marrying an antisocial non-Earther.”

  “It’s a dream, okay?” Jia stared at the intricate interlaced pattern on the wall. “And you’re right. My mom would probably lock me in the basement before she’d let me marry anyone like that. I’ve had recent conversations with my mother and Mei, and it’s just on my mind. It’s obviously invading my subconscious.”

  She didn’t want to admit to Erik that he’d been a source of contention in her love life. Telling him that she had asked for her mother’s special recipe just because he liked it could easily be misinterpreted. Things were complicated enough without adding someone else confused about her intentions.

  “Family,” Erik intoned with a slight smile. “I ran across the galaxy to escape mine. Put a few light-years between you and them, and you’ll be fine. You should consider it.”