The next day, a phone call from Detective Ashdown ruined my plans to chill out until my date with Erica. He requested my presence down at Metro HQ for some questions. From his tone, I knew I had two options: say ‘you got it’ and get to Research District 1 as quickly as possible, or say ‘no’ and get hauled in by some beat cops. Needless to say, five minutes after hanging up with the detective, I sped towards the central dome in the back seat of a black LTI.
Thirty minutes later, I slouched in a hard metal chair of a fourth-floor interrogation room, staring at my reflection and trying not to think about the cameras trained on me from their hovering positions at the corners of the ceiling to my left and right. Eventually, Ashdown joined me.
‘How’s your arm?’
I pulled my sleeve up to show a bandage wound tight around my forearm. ‘Good, thanks.’
Pleasantries out of the way, he jumped right in. ‘You stated the purpose of your visit to 314D Berkshire was because of an investigation into the illicit activities of an HTS employee. Is that correct?’
‘That’s right. Didn’t your tech crew find anything?’
The detective glanced down at his MIX11, made a swiping motion and then back to me. ‘Yeah, they found exactly what you told me they would find. And I mean exactly.’
I shrugged. ‘I did my homework before I made a move on them. It’s exact because that’s what happened.’
‘Cooper, Dwerry and Voss are telling a different story.’
‘Ah, for fuck’s sake—’
‘Hey! Watch the language in here, pal!’
‘Fine! For Christ’s sake, Ash. Is that better?’
He glowered. I continued, ‘Like a perp’s never told a lie during an interrogation. Dangle some pie-in-the-sky story and hope you bite on it.’
‘So, you didn’t enter their building disguised as a pizza delivery guy and attack Cooper and Dwerry without provocation?’ He left out the NEEDLE, which I thought was a nice gesture, but it didn’t give him a free pass.
‘Cooper, Dwerry and Voss said I did this? Voss, who was working during the incident?’ I can cross-examine, too.
The detective glanced down at his tablet again in frustration. ‘No. Cooper and Dwerry told that one. Those two plus the girlfriend have confessed to attempted blackmail. They had no idea about the bank accounts and seemed genuinely surprised to learn they were already millionaires.’
‘Blackmail is less time, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Imagine that. Confessing to a lesser charge. Feigning surprise at the hidden money. Is there no limit to the level of deviousness these three possess?’
‘Can it, Helm! The thing is, they are all telling the same story. How HTS discovered a planet, didn’t tell anyone about it and wiped out a species to gain access to raw materials.’
‘And you believe them? Have you found anything to support these allegations?’
‘Not really and no. But through isolated interviews the level of detail they’ve given is precise and consistent.’
‘Maybe they rehearsed a scenario like this. Draw out the investigation and buy for more time.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Anyway, what does it matter? You’ve got what you need on them, right?’
‘We do.’
‘Then what’s this all about?’
‘You don’t have a monopoly on being thorough, Helm.’
‘Superb! Can I go now?’
He spun his MIX11 around, facing me. ‘Review this statement. If it jives with your account of what you’ve told Metro PD, sign it and you can go back to enjoying your Saturday.’
Everything looked to be on the up and up, so I scrawled my signature.
The detective and I parted ways at the on-duty desk. ‘Remember, until this thing is closed, don’t go anywhere.’
‘I guess I’ll have to cancel my climbing trip up Mount Alba. Which is a pity because I’ve heard it’s lovely in the spring. Flowers coming into bloom. Trees lush and green. But if you insist…’
Ashdown shook his head and walked away.
On the way back to my apartment, I called Pam to let her know about my interview and reflected on how much trouble I’d be in if Porter’s nasty little secret came to light. I shuddered and quickly moved on to other worries.
Several hours later, I walked out of my apartment, dressed in a dark grey wool three-piece with a white shirt and champagne-coloured silk tie. I don’t wear that tie too often but I figured I should make an effort to liven up my ensemble. On my way to my car, I double-checked my inside breast pocket to make sure the cheap pair of gold earrings I had taken from my office yesterday hadn’t disappeared under mysterious circumstances. An app I had installed on my MAX confirmed that the tracking device in the earrings worked, as well. So far, so good.
On my way to Erica’s, I called Steve and asked if he could pick me up outside my house tonight at 2am. I was taking a helluva risk by dragging him into my scheme but I needed a driver. At first, he hesitated to agree. Let’s face it: people going out at that hour are rarely off to Mass. He came around, though, when I agreed to triple his fee and include a generous tip.
By 7.30, Erica and I cruised through her neighbourhood, Residential 2, towards the Financial District. Skalpel’s Polish Jazz played in the background. Erica looked like a knock-out.
Over a sheath-style dress as dark as night, which stopped at mid-thigh, she wore a black, sheer maxi-dress. A stitched floral pattern trailed down both sleeves and the main body of the fabric. A pair of matching sandals with leather straps and a bit of a heel to them completed the ensemble. Her straight, dark hair fell to her shoulders with a single, long braid on the right side tucked behind her ear. She had applied her make-up with artful skill.
‘I didn’t know you had a car, Danny?’ she asked as we cruised through the high-end dome, Residential 1.
‘Yeah, I only bring it out on special occasions.’ This was partially true. Parking in New London cost a fortune so I tended to only drive to places where it didn’t cost a day’s salary to leave it – namely, my apartment, my office or 3rd Street. Anyway, the comment won me some points.
‘I’ve never seen one like this before. Is it new?’
‘The Griffon is about five years old. Nash only ever made a handful of them as prototypes.’ The car had a wide stance and more curves than a burlesque dancer. It looked like something out of the 1930s. Its simulated exhaust gave the normally lifeless whir of the electric motor a deep, throaty growl.
‘And you got one?’
‘Payment on a case.’
‘Really? You must be one tough negotiator.’
‘I guess it depends on how much I like my clients.’
‘And what about me? What if I was one of your clients?’
‘I’ll just say, I’m glad you aren’t running Nash or we’d be in a cab right now.’
The Financial District loomed in the distance. I had just enough time to spring my meeting with Rennick on Erica before we rolled up to DKY’s valet parking stand. All things considered, she took it well, but then again she seemed fairly easy-going.
DKY billed itself as Pacific Rim and jazzed the place up with a decor somewhere between the ancient and the modern. A minimalist electronic interpretation of traditional Japanese music played in the background; simple melodies played on kotos and bamboo flutes woven together with a nice selection of down-tempo backbeats and loops.
The maître d’, and my sometimes drinking partner when I’m not slumming in the IM, Dominic set us up at a cosy table for two in an out of the way spot. I kicked the night off with a reliable gin and tonic. Erica went for a chardonnay. Our conversation fell into a lull while we considered the options on the menu.
A waiter stalked up with perfect timing to take our orders. Erica chose the seared tuna with a ginger-miso sauce. It came with a julienned sweet potato and crispy sushi rice salad tossed in a wasabi oil dressing. I opted for a pork loin chop crusted with panko and togarashi. They served the breaded loin with grilled vegetables, lentils and a shallot soy-mustard sauce. For a starter, I picked a bowl of sweet chilli edamame and another with garlic sauce. To drink, Erica and I agreed on a bottle of Junmai-shu, chilled.
We toasted the evening and the banter went down as easy as the booze.
‘Are you wearing one of your own creations?’ I asked after a sly up and down of her perfect figure.
‘I am. How did you guess?’
‘Just lucky, I suppose.’
I said before that Erica worked at one of my local haunts, which was true. However, her ambition in life was to make it in the fashion industry. She and her roommate Chloe MacDonald met in UNL’s design programme, have been friends since and have turned their two-bedroom apartment into a mini studio. Based on what she wore, I had no doubt she’d make it in the business sooner rather than later.
‘Well, you don’t look too bad yourself.’
I tilted my glass towards her in salute. ‘Why thank you. I have the fortunate privilege of living above a tailor’s shop. In fact, I should introduce you to him. I wouldn’t be too surprised if Rick’s got connections.’
‘That’s very sweet of you, Danny. It’d be great to meet him.’
The appearance of Dominic brought the conversation to an abrupt halt.
‘Sorry to disturb you both, but I have a message for Mr Helmqvist.’
He handed me a folded piece of paper, and drifted back to his position near the entrance.
I examined the note:
I’m at the bar. C
‘Right on time,’ I said under my breath.
‘What is it?’ asked Erica.
‘My client. She’s here.’
I picked my way past other diners and found Charlotte Rennick sitting in a tiny booth tucked into the corner of the bar area. She toyed with a glass of wine in one hand and held a menu in the other.
She smiled politely when she saw me. I reciprocated and eased in next to her.
‘You look very dapper tonight,’ she said as she let the menu fall onto the table.
‘Why thank you. You look pretty good yourself.’
She wore a fashionable sleeveless dress with a high neckline and the skirt bunched at the waist. I couldn’t really tell because of the table and her posture but I assumed that the pleating gave a bit of a flared-look to it. The colour – a soft shade of coral – offset her complexion perfectly.
‘It’s nice to see you haven’t lost your charm, Mr Helmqvist.’
Exchanging pleasantries wouldn’t get me back to the table with Erica so I hurried the conversation along. ‘Do you have what I asked for?’
‘I do.’
Setting her wine goblet down, Charlotte reached into her purse, pulled out a portable storage device and placed it next to the menu. Without looking at it, I palmed it with my right hand and placed my left on top of it.
‘Excellent. All the details?’
She nodded.
‘Good. I’m going to go in there tonight and poke around.’
‘What about your date?’
‘Late tonight.’
‘And starting at MARA Corp is the best first move?’
I shrugged. ‘As good a place as any.’
‘Perhaps you are right,’ she said finally.
‘One more thing, before I go. I have something for you.’
I reached into my breast pocket, which also gave me a chance to drop the storage device in there, and pulled out a small, plain black box. I handed it to her.
‘What’s this?’
‘A present.’
‘Really, you shouldn’t have.’
‘Go on. Open it.’
She tilted back the lid to reveal the simple-looking pair of gold earrings. She looked at me with slight confusion.
‘I’m not joking. You really shouldn’t have.’
‘Do you like them?’ I asked cryptically.
She looked at them again. ‘They’re nice, I guess.’
I laughed. I didn’t need to be a PI to deduce her true opinion of those cheap-looking baubles resting on a tiny pillow.
‘I’d like you to have these on at all times.’ I took them out of the box and showed her the flat backings to them. ‘See, you can even wear them while you’re sleeping.’
‘This is all very odd, Mr Helmqvist. Why would I wear these earrings all of the time? Or why should I even accept them? We hardly know each other.’
‘They are a tracking device of my own creation. I’ll be able to keep an eye on your location.’
‘Perhaps I don’t want you to know my every movement,’ she replied business-like.
An image of the guy tailing me flashed before my eyes. ‘You might not be safe after tonight, Charlotte, that’s why… or you might be perfectly safe, I can’t really say. All I know is I’ll feel better if I can check in on your location from time to time.’
‘You think I might be in danger?’ The concern in her tone was real.
‘Honestly, I do. If this thing is as big as you believe it to be then I think quite a few people’s lives could be at stake. So will you wear them?’
She looked at the box suspiciously.
‘I’m not sure. MARA Corp has a pretty advanced security system and it might detect the signal these things emit.’
‘They work on a modulating frequency that’ll piggy-back onto any wireless signal for only a short period of time before finding another. They will be very hard to detect.’
‘And you trust that they work?’ she said as she looked from the box to me.
‘I designed them so of course I do.’
She glanced quickly at the earrings with renewed interest.
‘You made these?’
‘Mmmhhmm.’
‘You’re a man of many talents.’
‘I guess I’ve picked up a few skills along the way.’
She started to remove her own earrings and put the others in. Good girl, I thought to myself.
‘Care to elaborate?’
‘Not right now, sorry.’ I almost said ‘Charlie’ but I caught myself. Instead, I glanced at my watch; too much time had passed. ‘Listen, I need to get back to my date. Thanks again for the information and for being so agreeable about the tracking devices.’
She dropped the case into her purse.
‘I’ll keep an eye out for anything unusual after tonight,’ she said as she watched me get up. ‘If there is any fallout after your visit to MARA Corp, I should know about it.’
‘Excellent. Call me on Monday – any time of the day will be fine. We can arrange a meeting and discuss new developments.’
‘Of course, Mr Helmqvist,’ she replied quietly.
‘Be careful, and I mean that.’
‘You too.’
I made tracks back to my table and a waiting Erica.
The edamame and the sake had arrived. From what I could tell as I worked my way through the seating area, Erica looked bored. No one liked dining alone.
‘I am really sorry about that, and I promise no more distractions tonight.’
‘That’s alright, Danny. I’m just glad that it didn’t take too long.’
I grabbed the tokkuri, filling an empty ochoko almost to the brim with sake. I also refilled Erica’s small ceramic cup.
‘What do you think of the sake?’
‘It’s nice. It reminds me of a chardonnay that I like to keep around the apartment.’
‘Perfect! It looks like I’m batting a thousand right now.’ I held up my cup. ‘To no more interruptions.’
She clinked hers to mine.
Neither of us took our eyes off the other as we both took a sip of our rice wine.
With its fruity aroma and slight hint of pear, I knew that I had made the right choice. The oak finish lingered a nice long while on my palate. I could drink this all night if I didn’t have a felony to commit later on.
We didn’t have too long before the waiter came to tell us that our main courses were coming out soon. I had had just enough time to sample both types of edamame and put my hunger in a momentary headlock.
Two hours later, we had demolished our main courses, moved on to our second bottle of sake and as much of our pasts as we dared to share. She told me about her family. She’s first generation Martian. Her parents immigrated to the Red Planet to work in one of the agricultural domes as bioengineers. Her only sibling, an older brother, works at a research station on Titan. For my part, I told her how my grandfather came to Mars to work the mines in the rock cliffs outside the domes. I had no brothers or sisters and my father worked for the city power company as an electrical engineer. My mother died when I was young. My father died when I was older. At present, I was the last Helmqvist on Mars.
At the end of dinner, while waiting for the valet to bring the car around, Erica expressed an earnest desire to see my apartment. I couldn’t have hoped for a better progression of the evening.