Inquisitor (4 page)

“I would expect no less,” Angel said. “Come on, Viktor, we’ve seen enough here.”

•

Angel paused at the entrance to the café. It was a highly protected building, with state-of-the-art security. Around her, people sauntered or hurried by, giving her curious looks, eyes drawn to her weapon. News of the murders had been suppressed by the corporations, for the good of the population, of course. It wouldn’t do for them to become uneasy and start asking questions; productivity might suffer. But they knew something was in the air, the same way a hunted herbivore might feel its hair rise even though there was no clear danger. Her presence on the street only confirmed their suspicions, and no doubt rumors had started circulating since she and Viktor had landed. But like all good employees, they kept their heads down and avoided trouble, lest they stand out and slip down the corporate ladder they had assigned their lives to.

She had sent Viktor back to their temporary office with instructions to log the photo frame for examination then take the evening off. Despite his reluctance to be there or investigate corporate murders, he had actually been working hard on the cases, often following the slenderest of leads late at night. He needed a rest, and she could interview the wife on her own. It was unlikely she would offer more than the empty office anyway. These corporate types regarded outsiders to their corporations with suspicion. Still, she had to be questioned.

As her implant clock ticked over to 6 p.m., Angel entered the café and scanned the patrons for the wife, Jessica Smith. She found her seated in a booth situated close to the back. Tables and chairs made from locally grown timber, subdued orange lighting, and top-of-the-range serving automatons, along with the security, marked the place as somewhere not consistent with a mid-level researcher.

She’s splashed out on somewhere she’d feel safe,
realized Angel.

Those dining were picking at small morsels of artfully arranged food, polka-dotted on large transparent plates lit by an internal radiance. They drank from crystal goblets, the same illumination highlighting the beverage they had chosen. A pretentious café to be seen in, to be noticed frequenting.

Angel’s implants logged all the patrons, and she gave the list a quick once-over. Nothing out of the ordinary: the famous, the rich, the inheritors, corporate suits impressing prospective clients. A random noise-reduction field cloaked the interior, lowering the clamor to barely a whisper.

Not consistent with the wife of a middle-level researcher, not at all. There might be reasons for a woman of Jessica’s class to frequent such an expensive café, however, and none of them were good.

“Excuse me.”

She glanced at the serving automaton that addressed her; it was gleaming, even in the dim orange glow.

“I am here to see Citizen J. Smith; she is expecting me.” Her implants flashed her credentials.

“Follow me, please.” The automaton glided silently across the polished floor.

Angel followed slowly, analyzing and discarding various reasons for such a meeting place.

At the table, Jessica Smith noted her approach and stood, hand extended. Angel shook it firmly, and they exchanged opening pleasantries.

“Please, sit,” Jessica said, gesturing to the couch opposite. She looked at Angel with deep suspicion. “Inquisitor Xia, may I examine your credentials?”

With a brief smile, Angel fished in her jacket pocket and drew out her Inquisitor’s wallet and handed it to her. As Jessica studied the unforgeable insignia and used her implants to verify its authenticity, Angel studied her.

Jessica was exactly what she expected: petite, blonde, dark eyes from lack of sleep, slightly nervous. When she took a gulp from a glass half-filled with a golden liquid lit from underneath, Angel could smell the alcohol fumes from across the table.

She was the picture of a grieving wife whose husband had been murdered, double-checking her credentials, as if unsure who to trust. Perfectly natural.

“Could I, uh… also see your other credentials?”

And the picture was broken.

Seeing Angel hesitate, she added, “Just so I know it’s you. I mean…” Her eyes flicked to a number of other tables. “How could I be sure, otherwise?”

Raising her eyebrows, Angel removed her private credentials, those confirming her as a Privileged of a House. She opened the wallet to reveal another unforgeable insignia. This one sparkled under the dim light.

Jessica drew in a short breath at the sight then visibly relaxed, sinking back into her couch. “Thank you. I had to be sure. You understand.”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

Jessica leaned forward, glancing out across the room. “There are powerful influences on Persephone and beyond, even in the Inquisitors. But House Liwei has a reputation for ferocious independence, for incorruptibility and untouchability.”

If only you knew the truth…
thought Angel.

“I…” Jessica hesitated, then rushed ahead. “I think Harry was murdered. I know you think I’m crazy but—”

“I agree.”

Jessica’s mouth dropped open. It closed, and her teeth clicked together. “You do?”

“Yes. It’s a hunch at the moment.”

“Oh, goodness! With Harry… gone, I don’t know if I’ll be next. What if some crazy person is out there? Who knows what they’re thinking?”

“I assure you, your husband’s death is most likely corporation related.”

“Yes, yes, of course. But, he wasn’t involved in anything worth killing him for.”

“Your husband spoke about his work to you?”

“Sometimes. I mean… only occasionally. And nothing classified,” Jessica stressed. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Angel had the feeling Jessica knew more than she was letting on. The darting of her eyes, her nervous twitches.

She isn’t overly concerned about her husband’s death
, realized Angel.
But she really does think she’ll be next. Why?
“And you didn’t ask?”

“You learn not to. There are other subjects to talk about.”

“Like how you arrived here on the same day?”

Jessica paused in the motion of reaching for her glass again; then her hand resumed its path. She brought the drink to her lips and took a sip. “Yes. Quite a coincidence.”

“Quite.”

Angel let the silence grow. An old and effective technique. Jessica was steeling herself to tell her something, information crucial to breaking this case open.

Jessica brushed at her eye, as if wiping away a tear, then raised her face to the ceiling. She sniffed.

“We… we were both surprised when we found out. Our stories were so similar, yet we ended up in different districts for a few years.”

“It must make for an interesting story at parties.”

“Ah… yes.”

Angel didn’t buy her account for a nanosecond. If anything, she was too uninterested in her husband’s death. By this time, people were usually asking her for answers, requesting details, wanting to know what happened next, where she was with her investigation. This woman was sending out the right signals but not asking the right questions. She searched her memory. Yes, Jessica hadn’t asked a single question. It was as if she were doing what was expected from her but wanted the interview to end as soon as possible.

Angel decided to press the issue. “So, you and Harry never met before moving to the same district?”

Jessica shook her head. “No. We arrived on different ships and, as I said, lived in different districts before we met each other.”

“Where were you both originally from?”

“Isn’t there something you want to ask me about the case?” A note of exasperation had crept into Jessica’s voice.

“Isn’t there something you want to ask me?”

Jessica’s eyes narrowed, and she licked her lips. Her expression went blank. “Am I under suspicion?” The timid widow had all but disappeared.

“Actually, everyone is, until we clear them. Where were you when Harry died?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“I was in bed. I didn’t wake when he got up. I don’t know why he wanted something to eat that late.” She licked her lips. “He wasn’t just working on AI’s for military tech, but something far more dangerous.”

Here it is,
thought Angel.

“He wasn’t allowed to talk about classified tech,” continued Jessica, “but he couldn’t stay quiet about something with such devastating potential.”

Something disrupted the noise-reduction field, and the background hubbub rose considerably. Angel looked around in annoyance. A number of patrons took the opportunity to hoot and jeer, raising the clamor to an uncomfortable level.

There was a flash of light. A pop and a thump sounded behind her.

She turned back. Jessica was slumped over the table. The back of her head sported a small red hole, from which rose a thin plume of steam. Blood leaked from underneath blonde hair and oozed across the table.

“Shit!” Angel yelled, and threw herself to the floor, rolling away from her booth to avoid any speculative shots.

Finding herself still breathing, she raised her head and looked around. None of the patrons had noticed anything untoward, and some were still yammering as loudly as they could while the reduction field was off.

Angel triggered a Rank 4 Emergency Protocol through her implants, overriding the café’s operating system. Almost immediately, the lights brightened. A message blared through a speaker, drowning out the patrons’ racket.

“THIS IS A COMMUNITY SAFETY MESSAGE.”

She drew her hand-cannon in one smooth motion.

“CALMLY EXIT THE BUILDING IN AN ORDERLY FASHION.”

She stood and raised her gun, aiming in the direction the shot had come from.

“THIS IS NOW A CRIME SCENE.”

A few patrons noticed her weapon. A woman screamed.

“CALMLY EXIT, PLEASE.”

Angel ignored the screams and frantic stares, and took a slow deliberate look around the room, searching faces for anyone suspicious. No one stood out. Sweat trickled down her brow. She blinked.

“LAW ENFORCEMENT PROXIES WILL ARRIVE IN ONE MINUTE.”

As people scrambled to flee the café, Angel darted forward and slid behind a low wall for cover. She peeked over the top at the exiting crowd. Ducking back down, she caught sight of Jessica sprawling lifeless over the table. Her expensive drink had spilled and dripped a golden puddle on the floor.

“THIS IS A COMMUNITY SAFETY MESSAGE.”

Angel flashed an emergency code to Viktor. Heart thumping in her chest, she stood and weaved her way toward the front of the café.

“CALMLY EXIT THE BUILDING IN AN ORDERLY FASHION.”

Back against a plascrete pillar, she breathed a sigh of relief at the relative safety it afforded her. Now empty of patrons, the café had the air of an abandoned ship. Plates, bowls, and glasses lay scattered across tables and the floor. Several cleaning automatons scurried about, righting chairs and vacuuming up spills.

“THIS IS NOW A CRIME SCENE.”

One of the cleaning automatons approached Jessica’s table and extended its vacuum hose toward the pool of blood.

“Shit,” Angel heard herself say. “Stupid machines.” She fired at the automaton. It jerked backward then fell to the floor. Sparks jumped from the hole in its side.

“CALMLY EXIT, PLEASE.”

“Come on,” she breathed, exasperated. Viktor still hadn’t responded. Clattering metal alerted her to the arrival of the Law Enforcement Proxies. She ducked her head around the pillar to make sure.

Two LEPs entered the café, while another took up a position outside. She flashed them her ID so they would know she was a friendly. Confirmation returned.

Lowering her weapon, she returned to Jessica’s lifeless body. It didn’t make sense. Why execute the wife of the dead scientist? Unless they suspected she knew Harry’s secret project and had been about to tell Angel.

Jessica had been killed because she
might
have known something. But it had been rushed. Harry’s murder had been planned meticulously.

Gripping her unfinished drink, she took a long sip of the heady liquid and waited for the local authorities to do their job. The glass shook in her hand, and she tried to control the tremor. Even after her wayward years on the frontier as a mercenary, her stomach still turned at the bloody scene.

Chapter 3

Angel made her way through the crowded street, surrounded by a roiling ring of strangers. A moment of fury passed through her, bubbling back down to a steady anger. Viktor hadn’t responded to her emergency signal. He’d better have a good excuse, or he’d be up on disciplinary charges. It was early, but the district Viktor had chosen to stay in was still bustling from the night before. She should have a word to him about that. If he was out partying at night, he wouldn’t be at his best on the job—and that could get them both killed. She knew that from bitter experience. He hadn’t responded to her calls this morning, and he had better not have overdone it last night and overslept. If he had, she’d put a note in his file. When she’d been a mercenary, she’d been known to sleep a little late after a night of celebration. But never while she had a job.

Couples, singles, and groups walked or swayed or danced. Most were heading home, or possibly to imbibe some stimulants and return to their work for the day. The edges of the street were lined with shops catering to the overstimulated and hungover crowd, and pop-up vendors jammed the intersections. Quick and simple food changed hands for credits. Breakfast for some, post and current intoxicated cravings for others. Steamed buns and fried dumplings, containers of noodles, and rolls filled with spicy meat, cold and hot drinks, and plenty of pharmaceutical vials and tablets.

Angel sloshed through an inch-deep puddle caused by a blocked drain as she neared Viktor’s building. It was a nice enough hotel overlooking a river. When the corporations designed these cities, pretty much every apartment overlooked water of some sort.

She slowed, and her gaze lingered on three girls as they walked past. Uniformed, backpacked, and holding hands, they were on their way to school.

In the foyer, a dozen old women trailing trolleys filled with boxes waited at the elevators. As each door opened, there was only room for one of them and her booty from an all-night shopping spree. She checked Viktor’s floor again, twenty-seven, and sighed. Angel attempted to squeeze in between the old women, but any gap closed before she could pass through. A couple of the women glared at her. Leaving them to their traffic jam, she opened the door to the emergency stairs and jogged her way upward.