CHAPTER 11
Cal held his breath, seeing no good place to hide. The chime sounded again, and he realized that it was the phone, not the door. It rang six more times, echoing in Tolbor’s apartment, before the caller gave up. So no one would be waiting outside for Tolbor to return.
Just as Cal began to relax, Vincent warned him that the conversation at Galentine’s was breaking up.
He was two blocks away from Tolbor’s apartment before he asked Vincent what else they had talked about in the bar.
“Nothing that sounded suspicious. They never mentioned murder or Sodom and Gomorrah. I can play it back for you or print a transcript once we get back.”
“When we get back is soon enough.”
There were lights on in his house when he arrived. Nikki was sitting at the table in the kitchen when Cal entered the house.
“Hi,” he said softly.
“Hi.” Nikki said nothing more, but watched Cal as he approached.
He remembered then how quiet she had been when they first met. All he knew for the first week after he had met her was that she worked at Taber Clinic. Only later, when she finally opened up, had he found out she was an M.D. He felt their communications had been good then, until whatever pressures that existed began to exact their prices.
Cal opened two cabinets before he found a glass and poured some water into it. He suddenly realized how tired he was.
“Habits are funny things,” Nikki said at last. “I was worried about you today, especially when it started getting late and you hadn’t called.”
Cal decided to wait before he mentioned the faulty wiring in his office. “I don’t have many conscious habits yet. Maybe they’ll come back eventually. Maybe not. I didn’t know whether I should call. I made you angry this morning. I thought about calling but figured I might just do it all over again.”
“Just don’t try to tell me what to do. I’ve got to make my own decisions, without you complicating things.”
“Does that extend to talking about my feelings for you? Or is that manipulative?”
“I can’t believe you have feelings.”
“You mean because I’ve lost some memories, or because I’m unfeeling?” Cal looked into Nikki’s eyes and saw they were bloodshot.
“I can’t imagine you could feel for me without remembering our wedding, Lynn’s birth, the trip to Luna.”
“I remember Lynn’s death—and some of the time we took off together that first year.”
Nikki cocked her head.
“It’s still just bits and pieces. Enough to know that losing you will be just as bad as losing Lynn.”
“Don’t you dare start on me with guilt when you don’t even—”
“Okay. Okay.” Cal held up his hand. “I won’t talk about it.”
Nikki simmered for a moment, but then seemed to calm down. “I found out a little about Gabriel Domingo today. But you’re not going to like it.”
“You what? How?” Cal sat up straight.
“I looked up his medical record and started asking questions.” Nikki looked slightly happier now that she was on a different topic. “Treska Palmer was his doctor. She said he didn’t seem to be a regular construction worker. She didn’t think he was honest.”
“Why does she say that?”
“For one thing, he hinted, not too subtly, that he’d rather pay for the services with some home entertainment items or kitchen appliances.”
“I don’t suppose he got bonuses where he worked.”
“That wasn’t the impression she got.”
“How perceptive is she? Is she one of those doctors who never even looks the patient in the eye?”
“I believe her.”
“So, what does that make me?” Cal asked. “A criminal, too?”
“I don’t know what it means. I said I’d try to help, and I’m telling you what I found out.”
Cal took another drink of water and looked at Nikki closely. She claimed not to be swayed by the news on Domingo, but she seemed subdued, more distant than when they had last talked.
“Are you having second thoughts about helping?” he asked finally.
“Sure. But I’m not about to renege.”
“That’s what I thought. But I need to tell you—”
“You’ve got a call,” said Vincent.
“Who is it?” Cal asked.
“Michelle Garney.”
“Who?” said Nikki.
“I’ll tell you in a minute. Put her on, Vincent.”
“There’s a news release you should know about,” Michelle said as the call connected. “The police issued a bulletin, just a little while ago, saying that Domingo was using an assumed ID. He was wanted for numerous theft charges on Earth. They say they still don’t know how he successfully altered the records.”
“This is my night for bad news,” Cal said. “I got the transmitter in Tolbor’s apartment, but he must have another apartment on the Vittoria.”
Cal noticed Nikki’s head come up sharply, but didn’t say anything to her. “Vincent, while I’m thinking about it, feed the transcripts to the desk unit.”
“You think we’re looking at the wrong person?” Michelle asked.
“I don’t know. I think maybe we should keep on him. You can get into his office tomorrow?”
“I’ve got an interview scheduled already. Oh nine hundred.”
“I’ll call you after that unless anything comes up sooner.”
Michelle acknowledged and hung up.
“Where were we?” Cal asked. “I think I was saying I had some more to tell you before you decide if you want to keep helping.”
“Still the master of understatement,” Nikki said, the surprise on her face still not completely faded.
“That was Michelle Garney,” Cal said. “She’s a reporter.”
“I figured out that much after I asked. Tell me why she’s helping. And about the transmitters. You sound like a regular spy.”
“I went over to the news center yesterday and said a little too much about Domingo. I went back today, to ask another question. I hadn’t given her my name, but Michelle had already figured out who I was. She seemed to be a good investigator, and she already knew an uncomfortable amount, so I told her the truth.”
“What about the transmitters?”
“Oh, those. I bought them and installed one at Galentine’s, one at Tolbor’s apartment, and one in my office.”
“You broke into Tolbor’s apartment?”
“Well.” Cal grinned. “I didn’t actually break in.” He explained about the door.
“Okay,” she said. “I understand Galentine’s and Tolbor’s. What about the one at your office?”
Cal took a deep breath. “Ah, that one. That’s another matter. Someone played junior electrician with my desk computer while I was out.”
Nikki’s face paled as Cal told her about the incident in his office. “And that’s why you weren’t sure if I’d keep helping?”
“Yes.”
“What would you do in my place?”
“I’d help,” Cal said instantly.
“It’s not very flattering to think you would believe less of me.”
“It’s not a matter of what I thought. It’s a matter of being honest with you.”
“It’s about time,” Nikki said forcefully.
Cal’s forehead tightened. “I said—”
“I’ll help. I’m just sorry it wasn’t obvious to you that I would.”
“Thanks, Nikki. Just try to remember that very little is obvious to me lately. Want to look at some pictures?”
Nikki gave him a questioning look, appearing to soften slightly.
“Vincent, let’s have the pictures I got from Michelle. I don’t care what order.”
“Here they are,” Vincent said. “Sorted by birth date.” The first picture came up on Vincent’s screen. Cal’s eyes were so tired he invited Nikki to join him at the desk computer and had Vincent transmit the pictures there.
“These are possible candidates for the guy who gassed me yesterday. Tell me if you see anyone you recognize.”
At the end Nikki shook her head and said, “They’re all strangers to me. What are you going to do?”
“Visit at least two more of them—the two who seem the closest to being the right one.”
“Two more?”
Cal explained about the first man, the one in the wheelchair.
“My friend at work is getting more nervous about those capsules,” Nikki said after a moment of thought.
“How nervous? Can she wait a couple more days?”
“I don’t know. You’re still sure that it’s important to find out what’s been going on that soon? I mean, I know the sooner the better, but you—”
“Yes.” Cal called up the transcript and briefly looked through two screens of innocuous conversations. He went back to the kitchen, aware again of having eaten less than he should have during the day. “You hungry?” he asked.
“Food is about the last thing on my mind.”
Cal found a large cluster of green grapes in the refrigerator and ate them as he thought. He was tempted to read more into the fact that Nikki was still here than he could rationally justify. Probably she would be in her own apartment within another day or two, but, remembering her reaction the last time he had brought their relationship up, he remained silent.
Nikki was still sitting at the desk computer, apparently lost in her own thoughts. He watched her, feeling the loneliness grow stronger within him, until she looked back and caught him looking, and he turned away.
“What next?” she asked.
“I’ve got to have some sleep,” he said, moving to the couch.
“Me too. But you’ll sleep better in the bed.”
“With you?” Cal asked, so tired that he grinned before he could control the reflex.
“Side by side, not top and bottom.” Nikki’s face was unreadable again, neither angry nor cheerful.
Cal agreed, feeling uncomfortable. What could be more natural than husband and wife sharing a bed? Except when the husband could hardly remember the wife.
They took turns in the bathroom, changing clothes. Cal found Nikki in a nightgown that gave him the impression of being conservative for her but was still revealing. He tried to keep his eyes off her, because he was still uncomfortable, and he wanted to make her more at ease. He found no pajamas among his clothes, so he went to bed in his shorts.
“Good night, Cal,” came Nikki’s voice in the darkness.
“Good night. And thanks.”
Cal lay there, trying to be quite still so he wouldn’t keep her awake while he thought. He found rational thought hard to come by, his thoughts returning to Nikki time and again. He hadn’t been as sexually aware of Nikki earlier, but just now she had looked so damned appealing out of her business clothes.
After a long tug of war between Nikki and the day’s puzzling revelations, he finally slipped into a fitful sleep and began to renew his acquaintance with Lynn.
At least once during the night, Nikki woke him from a screaming nightmare as he was crying out for her. As he lay awake, he thought he could feel the bed vibrate almost imperceptibly. He thought Nikki might be crying softly, holding it all in, but he couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t know what to say. Guilt grew within him as he finally drifted back to sleep.
The next dream he remembered was not about Lynn. He was walking along a long, twisting corridor lined with doors. Each time he came to a door, he was compelled to enter it. Some of the doors were unlocked. Others he had to smash in with his feet, or cut with a laser. Once he used a small mechanism to tamper with a door lock. Each room was empty, but he had to search them all.
While he searched one of the rooms, he heard footsteps along the corridor outside. He pressed himself against the wall the door was cut into, and listened. The footsteps slowed, then halted nearby, but after a brief interval resumed only to diminish in the distance, leaving fading echoes in their wake.
When he finally awoke, he lay with his eyes closed, trying to make sense of the dream. He gave up and opened his eyes to find that Nikki was watching him from her side of the bed.
“What were you thinking about?” she asked, her voice a little husky in the morning. Cal liked it.
“I was wondering if, assuming the Earth disaster was deliberate, I had thought that finding and punishing the person responsible would stop the nightmares of Lynn.”
“If you’d been spending all your spare time trying to find that out, why wouldn’t you have told me about it?”
“I don’t know,” Cal said simply. He had asked himself the same question. He looked back into Nikki’s eyes, feeling less strange than he had the night before, sharing a bed with her. Despite all the hurt she had received, she still seemed to keep a reserve of compassion.
Nikki changed the subject. “I may be able to check on Tolbor’s medical records today, but I’ll have to be more cautious.”
“I’d appreciate that, but I’m still wondering if I’m watching the wrong person. Vincent, have you heard any more since last night?”
Nikki wrinkled her nose as Cal asked the question, as if to say, “Do you have to use that here?”
“I heard several good jokes at Galentine’s after Tolbor left. Have you heard the one about the agriculturalist’s daughter and the spacer? She’s—”
“Shut up, Vincent,” said Nikki.
“Do I have to take this, Cal?”
“Afraid so. Back to Tolbor.”
“Very well. Still no mention of Sodom and Gomorrah or murder. He was up early this morning, making noises in the kitchen, but as far as I could tell he didn’t talk to anyone or make any calls.”
“Okay. Put the transcript up on the desk screen.” Cal got up and put on a light robe. He glanced back at Nikki as she put on a robe over her nightgown. She looked even more desirable than she had the night before.
Cal and Nikki scrolled through the text on the screen. “I feel uneasy about all this,” she said.
“So do I. I was surprised at how easy it was to get the equipment.”
“I just had a nasty thought. Suppose someone has already planted a device like that here?”
“I worried about that, too. But I checked the door closely, and didn’t see any signs of a gadget like the one I bought. I’ve showered and changed clothes since I got home, so, if anything, had been concealed on me, it should be gone by now. If I decide to tap Tolbor’s Vittoria apartment, maybe I could see if that guy also sells detectors. Hell, Tolbor could have one. Maybe that’s why all this looks so innocent.”
They ate breakfast without saying much at all. When Cal had put on a light jacket and was ready to leave, he asked, “Are you going to be at the clinic today?” Actually he wanted to know if she was going to be out apartment hunting, but couldn’t ask.
“Most of the day.”
“I’ll see you tonight, then,” he said, wanting to kiss her good-bye.
“Right.” Nikki had withdrawn again, her features noncommittal.
He went shopping again that morning. When he emerged, he tightly gripped a small package, carrying it until he entered a public bathroom a few blocks away.
Inside he carefully unwrapped a small pistol. For just a moment, it felt awkward nestled in his palm, but then abruptly a feeling of déjà vu came to him. Somehow he felt comfortable with the burnished shape. It no longer mattered that almost all the weight was in the grip, leaving only a lightweight pair of sights above the trigger. If the feeling of experience hadn’t been so strong, he might have wanted to test the gun on something and watch the bright light as it burned.
The feeling that he knew how to use the weapon was both comforting and disquieting. How had he come by the knowledge? Maybe he and Domingo had been involved in something illegal after all.
Cal walked back out to the street, wondering suddenly if he had ever used a gun on a man. And, if he had, could he again?
A twenty-minute journey brought him near the address of the next man on his list. According to the information he had got from Michelle, Fargo Edmund lived in an apartment building just ahead. The building held smaller units than Domingo’s or Tolbor’s.
Not having thought of any more devious a plan than the one he had used the night before, Cal walked down the corridor, looking for apartment number fourteen. He drew in a deep breath and stood before the door for just a moment before he rang the bell.
At first he thought there was no one home, but then he heard quick footsteps on the other side of the door. The door slid open, revealing another young, mustached man of the same general description. Cal faltered as he began his question about a dog. He was just starting to think Edmund might really be the man he was looking for when he hit Cal hard in the stomach.
Edmund caught him totally unprepared. The man had used not a fist, but his extended fingers held together to form a narrow focus. The blow instantly knocked the wind from Cal. Even as he doubled over, he was aware of Edmund pushing past him and running away down the hall.
After a long, painful moment, Cal was able to gasp in new air, and get back on his feet. He ran as quickly as he could in the direction Edmund had fled. Outside he hesitated for a moment, trying to decide which way the man had run.
“He turned left,” Vincent said. “I saw him through the door glass.”
“Thanks.” Cal began to run in the most likely direction, which also took him toward one of the busy shop areas. He reached the edge of the activity but saw no sign of Edmund.
Abruptly he thrust Vincent over his head. “See him anywhere?”
“He’s at thirty degrees right, walking real fast. About a block ahead.”
Cal began to run again. By the time he saw Edmund ahead, he had closed the distance to half a block. At that moment Edmund took a quick glance back.
He obviously realized that moving with the flow of people hadn’t worked. He began to run.
Cal’s breathing deepened as he raced after the fleeing man, but he felt better than he had just after he woke up three mornings ago. The aches had gradually diminished.
He weaved through a larger crowd in the next block, gaining slightly on Edmund, because the other broke holes in the crowd that took a little while to close back up. Cal noticed a few people as they stopped to watch Edmund and him rush past. No one tried to stop them.
Cal was gaining now. He was sure of it. He could see panic in Edmund’s expression each time the man looked back. Was he panicked because one of his targets had found him, or did he have particular reason to fear Cal? Cal thought again about how natural the gun had felt.
Ahead of Edmund were a couple of bicyclists approaching, riding perhaps a meter in from the lip of the street. In the same instant that Edmund took his next backward look, Cal had an idea of how to slow him down still more, and, as Edmund’s head was still turned, Cal lifted his fist high in the air, as though signaling to a partner.
It worked better than Cal had hoped. Or worse. Edmund held his backward glance longer than his last, probably looking for a second runner, or puzzled by the gesture. That extra time took him even closer to the outer bicyclist. By the time Edmund looked back, he was right in the bicyclist’s way.
The young boy on the bicycle seemed just as surprised as Edmund must have been, but he had slightly more warning. He turned slightly in from the short rock wall at the lip of the street.
Edmund careened into the boy and his bicycle, bouncing off him and toward the wall. For an instant Cal thought the man could regain his balance. He was wrong.
Edmund first flailed his arms, then grasped at the rock wall, which hit him at the knees. But it did no good. He was unable to recover his balance.
It was all over too quickly. Edmund’s body was visible for only another second before he fell over the edge, out of sight.
Cal was astonished. He had never intended to cause Edmund to fall. He had wanted only to slow him down. He cut his run to a jog to avoid standing out and kept on moving, past the point where the man had fallen.
Cal took the next set of stairs down two at a time and doubled back. By the time he neared the terrace below, a couple of people were already kneeling by Edmund, trying to help him recover.
At least that’s what Cal thought at first. But as he slowed and came closer still, he realized that Edmund seemed to be unconscious.
Cal waited several meters away, watching the woman kneeling next to the body make a call on her wristcomp. Even at that distance, he heard her words clearly. “He’s dead,” she said.
Cal’s stomach suddenly hurt as disbelief and guilt rose up within him. He had never intended this. Edmund must have been the man on the tubeway, but still, Cal hadn’t ever thought about doing any more than turning him over to the police.
Cal tried not to panic and began moving again, through the small crowd that had begun to form. The farther away he got, the faster he moved, jogging and then finally running. He couldn’t change what had happened, but he could at least try to learn something from the man’s apartment before the police arrived.
He slowed again as he approached Edmund’s building, not wanting to attract attention. The apartment door was still open, so Cal hurried inside and closed it.
The apartment was filthy. Encrusted food lined the sink. Used cups lay everywhere. Dirty handprints marred the wall surfaces around all the light switches.
It took Cal several minutes to find anything other than dirty clothes and discarded packing cartons with the name Fargo Edmund scrawled on them. In the bottom drawer of a file were items that would seem innocent enough to the police if they looked, but meant more to Cal.
Along with wire cutters and a screwdriver, lay two rolls of tape. One was standard electrical black, and the other was tan. Some of Cal’s feeling of guilt dissipated right then.
Cal continued his search. He didn’t worry about fingerprints. The police shouldn’t have any reason to think that Edmund’s death was any more complex than the accident it was. In another drawer he found a long, narrow gas canister labeled Lendomen.
A moment later, Cal whistled softly and said, “Well, reverse my charges.”
On Edmund’s desk, in the middle of a stack of unrelated papers, was a picture of Cal. It wasn’t a very good picture. It had been taken outside. His face consumed most of the picture, but the background made him think it had been taken near his Vittoria office.
It had been taken within the last few days, but he couldn’t tell when. The bruise over his eyebrow was there, and the scene was in daylight, but that’s all he knew. Almost anyone could have taken a picture like that from a distance without him even noticing. Edmund himself could have taken it.
But Cal got the distinct feeling that it hadn’t been Edmund who had taken the picture. It was more likely that someone else, perhaps Tolbor, had taken it to give to a hired hand who had no grudge of his own.
Cal idly wondered how much Edmund had been paid. And if he had been paid in advance. At least this should stop the attempts, for a while.
A closer look at the picture revealed a feature he hadn’t noticed before. In the upper right of the picture was a small defect in the image. Three closely spaced dots marred the otherwise acceptable photo. They could have been introduced by small imperfections in the digitizing element in the wristcomp of whoever took the picture, or in the reproduction process. There was no way to tell more just by looking.
“You’ve got a call,” said Vincent, startling him. “Michelle.”
Cal thought about ignoring it but decided he couldn’t risk it.
“News flash,” she said when Cal answered. “One of the guys on your list just died.”
“I know. I’m in his apartment, entertaining myself. Can I call you back in just a few minutes?”
“What? Ah, sure.”
Conscious of the time, Cal pocketed the picture and hurried to complete his search. Unfortunately, he found another half a worm.
It was a partly used container labeled Caution—Explosives. The canister was underneath Edmund’s bed. Cal couldn’t tell how long it had been there. If only he knew if it had recently been used.
Two failed attempts certainly implied the possibility of a third, but had Edmund already known the second attempt was unsuccessful? It was possible that he set up numbers two and three without waiting, to maximize his chances.
Cal found nothing more in the balance of his search. He closed the door behind him and hurried away, seeing no signs of the police yet. From a bench eight blocks away, he called Nikki.
“Do something for me, will you?” Cal asked. “Be careful. Very careful. I don’t want you hurt.” He explained about the possibility of explosives and told her about Edmund’s accident.
“But can’t you go to the police now?” she asked. “Maybe they could help.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Why not? That’s their business.”
“I think they’d be much more interested in asking me about my purchases yesterday, or about breaking into people’s apartments. For all I know, they might think I killed Edmund. The other problem is that the trail is cold. With Edmund dead, I don’t have a link back to whoever hired him.”
“I still think you should talk to them, but okay. You don’t have any idea whether he’s already put explosives somewhere or not?”
“No,” Cal said, watching Nikki’s worried face on Vincent’s screen. “So be careful.”
“You, too.”
Cal hung up. No one seemed to be taking an undue interest in his activity. “Vincent?”
“At your service. Today has sure turned out busy, hasn’t it?”
“Have you picked up your ability of understatement from me? Never mind. I want you to save some of your video from around the time Edmund opened his apartment door until he fell. Let’s say one frame every second. I may have to prove I didn’t kill him if this gets much more complicated.”
“I’ll vouch for you.”
“Would that help?” Cal asked.
“Only your feelings.”
“Call Michelle, would you?”
When Michelle answered, she looked concerned. “I suppose I heard you right a few minutes ago?”
“I imagine so.” Cal repeated most of what he had told Nikki, including a caution about watching for indications of explosives.
“Well,” Michelle said, once she had heard his story. “I’ve been busy, too. I had another interview with Russ Tolbor this morning.”
“And?”
“And he now has some extra equipment in his office.” Michelle was smiling again, apparently recovering from the jolt of new information.
“Have you heard anything interesting yet?”
“Not yet. He seems to be more quiet than I had expected. He’s talked to four people with quick status reports on the final preparations for Vittoria, but nothing else so far. I’ll call you if I hear anything that seems important.”
“Great. Before you go, can you tell me how to find Tolbor’s Vittoria apartment?”
After a short search she gave him an address. Cal was saying good-bye when Vincent told him he had another message coming in.
“Let’s have it.”
“You’re not going to like it, but here goes. It’s text, without identification of the sender. It says, ‘Stay home for a week, or you’ll be dead.’” Only after the silence lengthened did Vincent add, “There wasn’t even a complimentary close.”