“Those goggles are generally round and they wrap about the eyes more. If it helps, there was another strange mark on the inside of his left ear. I’ve never seen a mark like it. Could come from a fingernail or something else that happened in a struggle. Only, there aren’t any other signs of a struggle.”
I moved to her side of the autopsy table.
“This right here,” she said. “See? Not quite a bruise. Looks like he had an earpiece in. He must have also landed on it when he fell—his head rolled onto it, but his face took the brunt of the fall. Maybe that’s what happened. Because forensics didn’t recover anything at the crime scene, it’s all speculation till they do recover something.”
“But if you’re right and it’s an earpiece, then we’re looking at something that would use both goggles and sound. Which points to a pilot of some kind. Or something that would be used in a living room. Maybe that Holographic-reality stuff.”
Cassandra thought about it. Her mouth wasn’t visible because of the mask covering half her face, but her eyes narrowed like she was thinking. “That works with what I’m seeing. If the victim was using a Holo-R setup then it would explain how the assailant would be able to sneak up behind him.“ Cassandra swept her hand out above the body. “There are no signs of a struggle on this guy. No skin beneath his fingernails, none of your garden variety signs of a battle. There would have been two ear pieces in that case, but since he only fell on one side of his head, there’s no way we’d see evidence of that.”
“But that scenario would also explain the falling forward. Onto his face. And then of course the killer, in order to cover his trail, would take the Holo-R gear to cover his tracks.”
“Sounds like you’ve got something to go on at least,” she said, then fell silent as she finished the rest of the autopsy. I took a seat nearby and watched. I’d already learned as much as I probably would, but I always stayed for the whole thing in case anything odd turned up.
Just twenty minutes later, I pulled off the examination gloves, preparing to leave. On my way out, I thanked her.
“Miko,” I said into my communicator as I exited onto the street and headed for the elevator up to the Spireway platform. I needed to go ask the ex-girlfriend some follow up questions. “I think I know what the victim was doing when he was killed.”
“Holo-R?”
I paused, then kept moving. “How’d you figure it out?” I punched the call button on an exterior elevator, tacked onto the side of a pale orange jade tower.
“Bank records I pulled up. Lennox Fogg ran an in-game store called Fogg’s Toggs. That’s why he didn’t leave his condo for work at regular times. He kept his store open ten to twelve hours a day, sometimes more. The transactions used real Syndicate Marks, not the Coalition cryptocurrency. He’d been doing quite well, it looks like, according to his bank accounts.”
“I thought the ME would recover something that would tell us about the murder weapon, but she didn’t. It was clean except for organic matter.” I rode the elevator up to a Spireway station—I hated to use the subway. It didn’t work well with my claustrophobia. As big as the City of Jade Spires was, that closed in feeling was often inescapable, but there were ways to get away from it. And one way I broke free of it was taking the Spireway when I needed to travel. “Oh, and time of death was 9:30. So possibly, the murderer knew Fogg was in the game world when he was murdered. We’re potentially going to be investigating suspects that were Holo-R gamers, then.”
“Meg says we need to look at other ex-girlfriends too. Love and jealousy are often motives. Meg says.”
“Meg would know, wouldn’t she,” I said, thinking about the reasons we broke up. I sighed. “Look, sorry, forget I said that.”
“Hm. OK.”
“But she’s right. Have you chased down anything with other girlfriends or possibly exes?”
“Haven’t yet. I’ll get on that.”
“And Miko, has Daxan found anything?”
“He went with Meg to canvas the rest of the tower and the businesses near the residence tower. I stayed at the station.”
“Then how about if you also make a list of any large bank transactions as well—any big sums going out or in and the names associated with them.” I hung up.
The Spireway platform was crowded, but I’d kept my breathing under control while I was in line during my conversation with Miko. The next gondola that came to my queue was mine. Voices around me merged with the sounds of the trams skidding along the cables and squealing to a stop. There was the pneumatic sound of gondolas hissing away from the platform once they were loaded up. A blue one pulled up and three humans and two Druiviin loaded out, then I jumped in, punched in my destination, and the boat hissed away.
I hit the button on the controls to have the windows lower so that I could get some air flowing through and get the sense of openness that I needed. The wind whipped over my arm and through my fingers that were shoved out the window, and came into the gondola and lifted my hair. Evening sunlight filtered with the orange glow of Ixion glinted off the tower spires shooting out into the sky around me. People walked across bridges that connected the upper reaches of the city like lace and spider webs. Sirens echoed up through the slot canyons of stone and glass. The City of Jade Spires was no utopia, though that’s what the Centau had hoped to make when they built it and invited the other humanoid races here. Humans weren’t quite up to the moral standards of Centau and Druiviins yet. It was like inviting a snake into Eden—humans were bound to fuck it up. Those Centau were ever hopeful. Naive, but hopeful.
The wind across my body, whistling through my ears as I leaned around corners and surfed the Spireway, dissolved the tension in my neck and shoulders where I held the gritty weight of all the crimes I dealt with daily. Up here in the spire-tops, I was free and Kota was the utopia the Centau wanted it to be. The seedy murders, the corruption in the government and police ranks, the drug rings, criminal trafficking, all of it sank into the spire shadows far below me and I could forget about them.
The Spireway: it was such a stress reliever. The city should brand it that way.
* * *
“So we’ve recovered the e-comms from the victim’s computer system,” Meg said. I could hear paper rustling over the line. “There were a few disgruntled customers who sent him enraged emails. The bad news is that they’re all off-moon, so they might not be the best suspects.”
“Keep looking,” I said, thinking about it. We had little to go on so far. The victim spent most of his time in a holographic online world rather than mingling with people in a real-space fashion. The most likely explanation was that the murderer came from that world. But how did we bridge the gap of actual space? Had they hired someone to carry out their dirty work?
Meg continued. “I’ve got Daxan cross-checking flight information using the registered real names of those users. Gabe, they have such hilarious names for their game characters. Try HumungoRod6969 or GiantGirth.”
I laughed. “Is it just a place to go find someone to tap in real life? A virtual meet-up service?”
“I haven’t been on the inside. Maybe? But I mean, do these guys actually think that’s going to make the ladies swoon?”
“Depends on the lady.”
“Can we call them ‘lady’ if they’re on the prowl for humongous rods and girthy dicks?”
“Well, now you’re insinuating that a woman’s preferences for a certain type of sex are intrinsically dirty.”
Meg scoffed. “I’m not saying that at all. I have my own preferences.”
“As I well know.” I could almost hear the blood rushing to her face, which gave me a strange satisfaction. Divorce was her choice. I’m hard to live with, she says.
“Knock it off,” she said, her voice an embarrassed whisper.
“Alright, look I’m sorry about that. Gotta run. I’m dropping in on the ex to ask some questions.”
“Find out how they met.”
She said it as I was hanging up. �
�Obviously,” I muttered at my communicator. Classic Meg. Getting the last word in before I hung up. Now she’d take credit for the question if it turned out that it led us to more pertinent information.
And I didn’t doubt that it would.
My gondola docked and I jumped out onto the crowded platform, taking deep breaths to get me through the press of bodies, employing some self-talk techniques that usually helped. The evening commute had begun.
The ex lived eight miles from the victim. Which meant that they hadn’t met by bumping into each other at a local haunt. And since the vic hadn’t worked a regular nine-to-five job, my money was on either the Holo-R world, a mutual acquaintance, or a dating service—which, it was beginning to appear that perhaps the holographic world was something like that.
Her residence was on the bottom floor of row-houses tacked onto the edge of the rich districts of the city. These areas were optimized for laborers that worked on the farms and sold their wares in the markets, among other places. It wasn’t the slums yet, but closer to that than Fogg’s tower suite in the wealthy jade districts of the city. The sidewalks were busy outside. Fifty feet away an open air market outlined the street in vibrantly colored tents. The evening was humid as the setting sun cast Kota in a hazy yellow light, tinted with the pale colors of Ixion.
Humans, Constellations, and the occasional Druiviin crowded the streets and sidewalks as people returned home from work or went to the market. I banked on the fact that the ex-girlfriend was home as I knocked because it was that time of day, not to mention she was probably in a bit of shock from seeing the murdered body of a friend.
“Hello. Trixie Kander?” I said when she opened the door. Her eyes were wary and puffy, like she’d been crying. Her stomach protruded in a very pregnant way, so I figured I had the right woman. I flashed my badge, then put it back into my jacket pocket. “I’m Detective Bach. I work homicide in the Ice Jade district. I’m here investigating the murder of Lennox Fogg. I’d like to ask you some follow up questions if that’s ok, if you have the time?”
She blinked, stunned, and then stepped out into the street and shut the door behind her. The move bothered me, but I waited for an explanation before I used my dickhead-detective voice.
“Can we just—,” she said, heading toward the market on the sidewalk, gesturing for me to join her. “Sorry, I’ll answer your questions. Just not there.” She jerked her head back toward her apartment.
“What’s wrong with back there?” I asked, walking after her. “Is this a bad time?”
“My boyfriend will be home soon. He hates cops.”
I smirked. “Why? Has he been in trouble before?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug.
The bodies filling the street began to press in on me. “I’d prefer to do this off the street.”
“What do you want to know,” she asked, ignoring what I’d said—which also bothered me—and crossing her arms over the top of her belly. Her black hair fell across her face, but when I glanced at her as we walked, I could see the worry in her downturned eyes. She didn’t want me in her house and I doubted it had to do with her boyfriend. That was a suspicious emotion from a suspect. And telling. But it didn’t necessarily mean that she’d been the one to bludgeon Fogg to death.
We cut into the cacophony of the market and her shoulders seemed to relax as the crowd absorbed us. People bustled between stands, bumping into each other and me, their arms laden with woven bags of produce, breads, dried meats, and sausages. I took deep breaths again, trying to focus on the questions and not the uncomfortable closeness of the crowd eating into my space.
“Trixie, can I ask? How did you know Lennox? Where did you meet?”
She looked around. “In Utopia, a game in Holo-R. I was building a house and he came up to me and asked if I wanted anything to set it up.”
“Building a house? How does that work?” I tried to imagine her doing that.
“You’ve never played Holo-R, I guess?” She stopped at a booth selling drinks.
“What would you like?” the vendor asked.
I took a step into the space between the drink vendor and a native Druiviin vegetable vendor, to remove myself from the stream of people.
“Just sparkling water, please. Anything else makes me feel queasy.” She exchanged a handful of marks for the bottle.
“Kasé for me, please,” I said, getting the vendor’s attention from my odd spot outside the fray. “White, nothing else in it.” I fished for some Syndicate Marks in my jacket to pay for my drink.
“I wish I could have a cup of kasé. Or coffee,” Trixie said. “But that stuff just makes me sick right now.” She said it like I knew how pregnancy worked.
I nodded at her—Meg had been a beast while pregnant, but I didn’t like the small talk. It was veering away from the investigation and I didn’t have a lot of time. So I steered it back. “I haven’t.”
“What?” she sipped her water.
“Played Holo-R. I don’t have time for hobbies. Too many murders to solve. City of Jade Spires, you know? It’s a beautiful morass of many questionable activities.”
“Yeah, OK.”
“So tell me about it.” The vendor handed me my drink and I sipped it. “Also, can we find a table somewhere? I need some space.”
Trixie looked around as though to say, what do you call all this? I call it a crowd, I thought, pushing against me, breathing my air, stealing my air, closing in on me.
She sighed and led the way toward what I hoped would be a table with space around it.
“Well, I was just putting it together, my house. The game gives you the basic tools. Walls. Windows. Doors. A yard. But if you want better things or to get really elaborate, you have to make it using code and skins. But there are other options. Like buying things from other coders. Some of them have set up stores within the world. You can walk into them and pick stuff and buy it and put it in your house. But I wasn’t there yet. Lennox approached people and asked if they wanted to buy things. He did it in the social areas. That’s how we met. My avatar is an eggplant girl,” her gaze jerked up to my face, “er, I mean, a Druiviin girl. Sorry. Anyway, that’s probably why he picked me out of the crowd. He sold me things really cheap. Really complex things. Things that other places sold for quite a bit more.”
“And you built a very nice house?” I took a breath, calming down as we came to a table in a space between two booths. I found an empty chair at a table and sat down in it.
“Better than my shit real-life place,” she said.
“Then what?”
“Well, he helped me outfit my VR place. We talked a lot. Found out we both lived on Kota. He wanted to take me out, meet me in real-life. Then we dated a bit.”
“Even though you’re not Druiviin? Was he decent to you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did he ever treat you badly?”
“Oh, no. Not really. Are Druiviin ever mean? I don’t think they can be. But he was competitive, just not in a cruel way. He didn’t treat everyone perfectly, of course, because he wanted to make money and drive out the competition. A few other gamers got wind of how cheaply he was selling his product. They had a . . . bit of a war. I mean, he was Lennox. Willing to do anything to become first. Just nothing too cruel. Which I liked about him. You know?”
“What more can you tell me?”
“Well, he almost put the biggest shop in the game out of business. That guy really didn’t like it. And I know there were gamers who sometimes felt cheated by Lennox and Lennox didn’t really have the best customer service.”
“What happened to the two of you? I mean, did you break up with Lennox or . . .”
“Did Lennox break up with me?” she finished for me.
“Right.”
“I broke up with him. He was too focused. Too driven to build his game empire. It made him . . . kind of unavailable emotionally, just in the end, I discovered that he was better
than other guys. I miss him.”
I caught what she didn’t say. At least, I thought I did. “Do you remember the name of the store he almost put out of business.”
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t played it in almost five months. Pregnancy. I just don’t feel like playing. Oh, I need to head home. I’ve got to get dinner going.”
She stood up and before she turned, said, “Please, if you’re going to come by, could you call first? My boyfriend doesn’t know.”
“Know what?” I asked, thinking how outrageous it would be if he didn’t know she was pregnant.
“That I went to Lennox’s that day.”
* * *
“He’s here,” Meg said when I walked into the precinct the next morning. She was adding a photo of a man to the suspect board. “This guy Gabe, he’s here. Pierre Brock. Resides on Joopa. Considered Lennox Fogg his direct competition in their Holo-R game.”
I studied the photo. A twenty-something male, pale face, and dark hair clipped short. His weak chin suggested maybe an inferiority complex—the kind where a man resents other guys for looking more classically masculine. Together with his puggish nose, I got a sense of what kind of man we’d be dealing with. The quietly seething type. Chip on his shoulder. Suspicious of everyone because he knew that his own motives were suspect.
But. For the sake of the case, I shoved all that aside. I would approach him as I did any person while working a case: with a blank slate, to see to what conclusions their behavior and answers led me. That was the fairest thing to do.
I started, just registering what Meg had said. “What? Here, here? On Kota?”
“Yes. He’s one of our suspects, or should be. And he’s here in our city, the City of Jade Spires. The convention capitol of the 6-moons?” She laughed. “That city—you know the one. Remember it? There’s a convention going on and he came over for it.”
“If that’s a coincidence—” I didn’t finish. I sat down and began going over the notes from my interview with the ex-girlfriend. There was something . . . nagging at me . . . something. I felt I’d missed an important element, but I couldn’t latch onto it. I just needed time and focus.
The Colossus Collection Page 88