To Snatch a Thief (22 page)

Still gripping the door Hunter’s eyes lifted and met Skye’s through the glass.

Empty. Bleak. Dead.

She jolted, spilling hot coffee over her hand, but he made no sign that he’d seen her. Abruptly, he turned, grabbed his coat from his chair and stormed out without giving her a second glance.

Smith appeared at Skye’s shoulder. She handed him one of the cups. ‘Lover’s tiff? Got the boss a bit stirred up.’

Yeah, she agreed, miserably, as things rearranged themselves in her head. And he isn’t the only one.

By five thirty traffic throughout the city was snarled to a standstill. Another power failure had taken out most of the traffic lights and the tubes had ground to a halt. Outside HQ reporters were interviewing the furious shuttle bus queues who were blaming everyone, including the law, for the foul up.

Resigned to elbowing her way through the madhouse, Skye called Maxine on her klip. When she answered candlelight lit up her features. ‘I’m going to be late,’ Skye apologised. ‘I’ve got to walk from HQ and the crowds are horrendous. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

‘Why don’t you leave Lexie with me for the night?’ Maxine shifted slightly and her brother’s face joined her on screen. ‘Then you won’t have to worry.’

Guilt that she should feel relief snarled through her, but she had so much going on in her head she doubted she’d cope well with Lexie’s demands tonight.

‘If you’re sure that’s okay. There’s a clean pair of pants in his bag… emergency use, oh, and he’s due for his dose of Preventix…’

‘Please can I stay, can I, can I? We’ve got zillions of candles and Maxine says I can have a torch by my bed, and we’re having cold baked beans out of the can and bread with spread and Maxine’s gonna tell me a story about a warrior and a princess and stuff and
everything
.’

Caught in a commuter log-jam, Skye was having a job holding the klip steady. ‘Okay, Lex,’ she shouted, against the noise of the crowd and an air-borne explosion of Darts leaving HQ - her colleagues obviously wouldn’t be walking. ‘Be good and I‘ll see you after school tomorrow.’ With an eye on the sky she heard herself say, ‘Put Maxine back on, would you. I want to ask her something.’

When Maxine reappeared Skye cupped her hand to the mouthpiece and, although hating herself for asking, said, ‘How did Anya Leberdev die?’

Maxine’s calm expression never faltered, although one eyebrow lifted minutely. ‘Can I ask why you want to know, dear?’

The crush began moving again as traffic police with searchlights arrived to blaze a trail. She had no answer she could give so shrugged. ‘Her name came up at work. I just wondered that’s all. It’s not important.’

Maxine’s eyes clouded. ‘They were together for over a year,’ she said with a slight shake of her head. ‘They met on Stellar Frontier. Anya worked in the military research laboratories there. When she was killed in a freak accident it quite literally broke Stephen’s heart. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to Alexei’s tea.’ She broke transmission leaving Skye feeling like the prying busy-body she was.

By the time she got home two hours later, the power was back on, the temperature climbing back to liveable and the water in the shower blissfully hot. She stood in the steam letting the warmth seep back into her bones and trying to make sense of her feelings.

Half of her said she should just front him with her suspicions. Give him a chance to explain, and if necessary give himself up. If he was guilty, maybe he could plead diminished responsibility because of a broken heart… could you do that? Was it a valid excuse for murdering people…?

God, what was she thinking!

Groping for a towel, she stumbled out of the shower and slunk into bed, pulling the duvet over her head like a cocoon. She didn’t want to think any more; just wanted to hide until it all went away.

Seconds later her klip bleeped.

‘Skye…’

‘Ashleigh. What’s wrong?’ Skye combed a hand through her hair, held it back from her face. ‘Why are you crying?’

‘Skye, something terrible’s happened.’ She pressed her fingers to wet eyes. ‘Cricket’s dead. Horse called a few minutes ago. He asked me to tell you.’

‘No.’ Every ounce of the shower’s warmth left Skye’s body. Sitting up, she gripped the edge of the bed for support. ‘How? Where? God, I only saw him this morning…’

Ashleigh sniffed, blew her nose on a tissue. ‘I know he was awful and smelly and a complete waste of space being juiced all the time, but…’ Her eyes, which seemed to have mini erupting volcanoes painted on the lids, filled again. The lava was smudging down her cheeks. ‘You know we were related, vaguely, somehow… I never wanted to admit it; I was so awful about him. Now I feel terrible… I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t around. He’s just always
been
there.’

‘Tell me. Tell me how?’

With streaming eyes and nose, Ashleigh produced another tissue; blotted. ‘He stumbled off the curb in all the confusion of the black-out,’ she managed. ‘Passersby say he was drunk as a skunk… never stood a chance. He got hit by a shuttle bus, went right under its skirts.’

Naked to the waist, Skye stood in front of the bathroom mirror; a pair of nail scissors in her hand. Too many coincidences, she whispered to her reflection. Okay, it was possible Cricket’s death had been an accident, but how handy was that? Only hours after describing what he’d seen to her, and therefore to Hunter, he winds up dead. She didn’t think so, and how long before he came to silence her too.
The clock’s ticking on that one
.

She’d already downed two fixers and had a spray of skin shield ready for after, hoping the fixers would work in advance to take the edge off the pain. Taking a long steadying breath, she traced the shape of the tracker with a finger.

The first stab as the point of the scissors pierced her was nothing to what followed. A thin trickle of blood oozed from the wound and ran down her breast as, whimpering, she dug deeper.

She detested the sight of blood, particularly her own. The room shimmered as blotches swam in front of her streaming eyes. Slippery from blood running down to the handles, the scissors slipped out of her hand and clattered into the basin. Through tightly squeezed lids, she risked a peek down, then breathed out a sigh. Sticking out from the mess she’d made of her chest was a small metallic object, which was definitely larger than a grain of rice, marginally.

One small tug and the hated tracker plopped into her hand.

When her klip beeped for the second time that night she was kneeling on the kitchen floor hurling food from the dispenser into a bag: soymilk, bread, cheese substitute, a couple of packets of bugs, everything that could be easily carried. Her clothes and Lexie’s were already packed and waiting by the door. She had no idea where they were going, but knew they couldn’t stay there.

Who the hell…? ‘King?’ He looked upset; worried; his short hair mussed where he was pulling his fingers through it. Alarmed, Skye stood. ‘What’s up? Where are you? Are you sick?’

Glancing briefly over his shoulder, he shook his head. ‘No, no.’ He leant closer to the screen, lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I’m at work, night shift, coffee break. This has gotta be quick; I can’t be caught talking to you.’ Something in his eyes had her heart bumping in her chest.

‘King, where do you work?’

For answer, he shifted slightly to the side. Water shimmered in the moonlight to the left of the screen, and in the background the unmistakable shape of the Palace.

‘Royalty Trading?’ That name was cropping up far too often.

‘Just listen, okay. Something’s wrong here. Something’s really wrong. There’s cargo boats coming in and out all night, sky traffic’s building up, freight trams come in that don’t go back out on deliveries and there’s an area at the back of the main building that’s suddenly heavily guarded.’

She thought of the organised chaos she’d witnessed when she’d been there. ‘Aren’t they just seasonally busy?’

His already furrowed brow creased further. ‘Not this much activity, and it’s stepped up in the last few days.’ He broke off as footsteps sounded, and Skye got a blurry picture of his jeans as he dropped his arm. As they died away, his face reappeared. ‘This guarded area’s surrounded by full-blast protection. A geezer got curious last week, ended up fried. Management said an electrical fault caused a short-circuit…’

‘But you don’t buy it.’ Her stomach started doing back-flips and her throat was dry as dust. ‘What have they got in there?’

‘I dunno, but… Look, there’s a rumour, right? Just a buzz. A new drug’s coming and it’s gonna be mega. Pulse: the ultimate near death experience. You know, the full floaty out of body, dazzling white light at the end of a tunnel shit; all euphoric, happy-dance crap and God waiting for you at the other end.’

‘Too much and maybe you get to meet him for real.’

‘Yeah, I figured, and if that’s what’s coming in here, I don’t want any part of it. I’m clearing out, but I thought you should know, pass it on.’

Skye hesitated for only a moment. However she felt about Hunter, she knew what she had to do; what she should have done all along. But she needed more before going to Captain Yao with her suspicions. ‘King, I need to get into Royalty.’

‘Whoa!’ King’s eyebrows touched his hairline. ‘You got a death wish or something? I said pass it on, not act like a stupid vigilante. Tell Hunter and let him check it out.’

Might have the same result, she mused, but kept that thought to herself. ‘King, I’m not asking you to do anything but get me into Royalty and point me in the right direction. Then you can split.’

‘No way, José. I’ve told you what I know and that’s all I’m doing. I’m gone, conscience clear, good deed done. S’long, auf Wiedershehen, goodbye.’

‘Yeah, yeah. You owe me, remember. I’ll meet you at the docks in an hour.’ She disconnected.

.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

By craning her neck, she could see the dark outline of trees on the other side of the curving perimeter wall. Beyond them, a long lawn of open, snow-covered grass stretched to the side of the building where, she thought, there were bound to be security cameras. During the short time, she’d been watching, Skye hadn’t seen any guards patrolling the gardens, but she knew that didn’t mean they weren’t there. In the distance, off to the left, floodlights lit the activity in the depot with a yellow glow. To the rear of the building was a smaller, fuzzier glow. Traffic in the sky over the city was heavy. But here, all was quiet, except for King’s muffled cursing under her feet.

‘Christ, Skye. For someone who looks so skinny, you weigh a ton.’

She dropped off his shoulders. ‘Haven’t see any patrols. Bunk me over, then you can go.’

‘Can’t,’ he said as he rolled his neck, rubbing at his shoulders with a pained look on his face.

She snorted. ‘Oh, come on, mini-muscles. I’m not that heavy.’

‘Well of course I
can
do it,’ he snapped back, tetchy. She’d obviously insulted his manhood. ‘But I’m not helping you get caught. You’ll never get in there undetected. There’s camera’s everywhere and they have seriously mega security inside.’

‘Snatcher’s didn’t find everything when I was arrested.’ She opened her palm where she’d been hiding her jammer. When his jaw dropped open, she smiled.

‘Where did you get that?’

‘I have friends in low places. It’s home-made but it works.’

‘You reckon it’ll jam their cameras?’

‘I know it will. It’s jamming that one over there right now.’ Although it appeared to be working normally, the street CCTV had remained lifeless for some time, not swivelling towards their movements as it should have done, and its normally pulsing red dot was static. When the chip was removed, there would be no record of them being there.

‘How come you were ever arrested?’ King was looking at her with something like awe.

‘Word of advice, King. Don’t choose a mark who’s an off-duty snatcher.’

He smothered a laugh. ‘You’re kidding.’

‘Yeah, I am. Now get me over that wall and you can scoot.’

‘Aw, shoot. I have a feeling I’m going to live to regret this.’ King cupped his hands to form a stirrup. ‘I can’t let you do it on your own; I’m coming with you.’

‘Ever watch any of those old Dracula movies?’ Skye asked, straddling the top of the wall and stupidly glad of King’s company.

‘Yeah?’ King pulled himself up. ‘So?’

‘And you know the first victim’s about to be zapped, because they were in the first scene and the one early on in the movie always ends up dead.’

‘I’m freezing my balls off sitting up here. Is there a point to this?’

‘Yes.’ She gave him a shove off the wall. ‘You go first.’

Neither of them spoke as, crouching low, they ran over the lawns towards the side of the main building. Skye’s main concern was dogs. If Royalty employed a dog patrol, they were in trouble, but they reached the relative safety of some trees bordering a long sweep of driveway, without any problems.

Groundsmen had shovelled snow from the tarmac, piling it along the edge of the road. It had frozen solid as the night temperature dropped below freezing.

After waiting a minute, to scan the open space, during which time Skye’s heart rate kicked up a pace, she whispered, ‘Ready?’ King answered with one quick nod. From his fixed expression he was as scared as she was. Taking a deep breath she crossed her gloved fingers. ‘Let’s go then.’ Hand in hand they ran, scrambled over the packed snow and raced towards the building, flattening themselves against the darkest part of the walls.

Because her hands trembled uncontrollably, she shoved them with the jammer in her pockets.

‘What radius does that thing cover?’ King was breathing like a marathon runner so his words came out in whispered jerks.

‘No idea. Guess, we’ll find out. Where’s the secured area?’

King led the way, taking them towards the back of the building. Halfway along, the stone wall was replaced by floor to ceiling glass. Dimly lit from the inside, they saw a plush conference room the size of a small theatre, then a lounge with classy-looking furniture and, for all Skye knew, priceless pieces of art hanging on the walls. Both had patio doors which opened onto paved areas overlooking the grounds. To anyone who happened to be inside looking out, they were sitting ducks. Therefore it was a relief when stonework once again replaced glass. Towards the end of the wall they heard muted voices.