by Page Turner
“Can you think of anyone who would have wanted to kill her?”
“I know it’s insensitive to go this route,” the realtor continued, “but certainly not me.”
“We weren’t saying—” Karen began.
Penny shushed her. Let the man speak, Penny thought and tried to communicate with a sharp glare at Karen. They could see what came out of his mouth and then mop up any lack of allegation later if it proved necessary.
Penny wished again that she were an expressive telepath. It would come in so handy. Karen didn’t look like she understood the gaze and instead simply looked rather sad.
“Her death has created quite a headache for me at the office, you see,” the realtor explained.
“A headache?” Viv said. “How?”
“That house she was found in? The one the tornado crashed into? The sale on it closed three days before the storm. The new owners were about to move in. The sale was finalized, everything was set. Now they’re calling me day and night insisting that they want to nullify the transfer. That’s not how real estate works. This isn’t something the buyer could have foreseen and failed to disclose,” the realtor said.
“It isn’t?” Viv asked.
“How could she?” the realtor said.
“Well, wasn’t Ms. Harris a precog?” Viv said.
“So?” the realtor said.
“Isn’t it possible that she could have seen the tornado coming?” Viv asked.
The realtor frowned. “I’m disappointed in you. You work for PsyOps, so you’re tueys yourselves, aren’t you?”
Viv nodded.
“Then you must know that precognition isn’t exact. Even if Ms. Harris had gotten a premonition, she wouldn’t have known if she could trust it or not. Particularly if it affected her directly, which this sale most certainly did, as the psychic home inspector.”
“Do you know the other victim?” Viv asked.
“Other victim?” the realtor asked.
Oh dear, Viv thought, not sure if she should proceed.
“Are you telling me another one of my agents got caught up in this? I haven’t had time to check in with everyone. Perhaps I should,” the realtor said.
“When I say victim, I’m not talking about another murder,” Viv said. “But another one of your agents was found wandering the streets. He’d forgotten who he was. Temporary amnesia. They were able to identify him by the contents of his wallet.”
Viv tactfully left out the rest of the story. That this roving agent seemed quite mad. Had even argued with the police officers who picked him up when confronted about his identity. Had insisted he was everyone and nobody. And that the name they kept saying wasn’t his.
He was currently undergoing psychiatric evaluation.
“Ah,” the agent said. “It’s probably odd to you that I didn’t know that.”
Viv shrugged. “You see enough in our line of work to find very few things odd,” she offered.
“My agents work rather independently. If business is slow or if it’s running smoothly and they don’t need any assistance, it can be weeks sometimes before I have to check in with someone,” the agent explained.
That’s odd, Penny thought. Not exactly the picture of a happy little work family you painted a few minutes ago. Sounds more like ships passing in the night.
“So you say this house just sold?” Viv asked.
The agent nodded.
“Who were the sellers?” she asked.
“Just a moment,” he said. He looked up the information on his computer.
The lights above them flickered as he worked.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I have good surge protection. And the building has a backup generator.”
“Handy,” Viv said.
“Ah yes, here it is,” the agent said. The printer began to work. It spat out a few sheets of paper. He walked over, picked them up, and handed them to Viv.
“There are a lot of names on here,” Viv said. “And percentages.”
“The home was crowdfunded,” the realtor said.
“Crowdfunded?” Viv asked.
The relator nodded. “A bunch of individuals all invest a small amount through a company that manages the property until it’s sold. Everyone on this list got a share of the sale. Actually, give that back to me,” he said.
Viv returned the paper to him.
He carefully wrote on the back of one of the sheets of paper. “This is the investment firm who oversaw the crowdfunding. I doubt you’ll need it but just to be clear.”
“Thank you,” Viv said. “We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.
In theory, a licensed realtor with psychic powers should have been illegal.
It was illegal, for example, for an intuitive to practice law or work as an investment banker. The government had decided that there was too much risk involved, that the involvement of psychic powers threatened to destabilize the legal system and economy.
But the real estate industry, while being heavily involved in both money matters and the law, had lobbied hard for the right to employ psychics.
They argued that the inclusion of precogs would actually be a profoundly stabilizing force for the housing market. That their ability to look beyond the current moment and make projections could protect both buyer and seller from fluctuations that would normally elude normal realtors.
With the help of deep pockets and political leverage, the real estate industry had won that fight.
And it was now virtually unheard of to be running an agency without a few intuitives working as negotiators. They were as common as notaries during the closing process.
True, it set back closing dates an average of an additional two days, but nobody wanted to take the risk anymore of not consulting a precog.
Most precogs found steady work in real estate by performing an additional psychic inspection that typically followed the normal home inspection of the house’s basic structure. One that focused not on the state of the property as is but the state of the property that could be in days, weeks, or years.
“You know,” Penny said as she turned the key in the ignition, “If the perp’s goal was to get lost in the clutter, I’d say they did a damn good job.”
“You can say that again,” Viv said.
“You know, if the perp’s goal –” Karen began.
Viv shot a warning glance her way.
“Okay, okay,” Karen said.
“That sort of joke hasn’t been funny since Peewee Herman,” Viv said, “and you know it.”
“It wasn’t funny then,” Penny added.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Viv said.
“Anyway,” Penny continued, “I have a feeling we’re going to hit the same roadblock as we did chasing down Heather’s client list. Dozens of interviews. Lots of leads, many promising, but nothing that really seems more promising than the others.”
“Unfortunately,” Viv agreed.
“Well, maybe we need a different approach then,” Karen said.
“And that would be?” said Penny.
“Stop looking at little things and focus on something big,” Karen said.
“Easy to say,” Viv said. “But that would suppose there’s something big that we’re looking past.”
“Which is always a possibility,” Penny said.
“True,” Viv replied. “But if we’re looking past it at the beginning, what’s to say that we don’t keep looking past it. Considering it too obvious, too atmospheric to investigate.”
“Or maybe,” Karen said, “It’s bias we’re looking past.”
“What do you mean by that?” Viv asked.
“Maybe we’re shying away from certain solutions because they seem too easy. We keep looking for some minor detail, some small person hidden in the mix. What
if… the killer is exactly who a lay person would think they are?” Karen said.
“What if the butler actually did do it?” Penny asked.
“Exactly!” Karen said.
“Or what if the husband really did kill his wife?” Viv asked.
“Yes,” Karen said.
“Or what if a powerful family really was going around murdering people in order to hide some kind of terrible secret?” Penny asked.
“That’s what I’ve been thinking, too,” Karen said. “There are too many dots to connect that involve the Ecks. They seem threatened whenever we get close. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“I don’t know. Rich people are easily threatened, period. I’ve found them to be rather paranoid. Especially when it comes to anything that can affect their reputation,” Viv said. “I’d say a murder investigation certainly qualifies.”
“Okay,” Karen said. “Paranoid enough to be scared by a normal investigation. That’s fair. But does that mean that they’re also paranoid enough to kill?”
“Possibly,” Viv said. “But if that’s the case, then why haven’t they come after any of us?”
Penny thought suddenly of the odd visit from Change Patterson. “There was that one… thing that showed up in the kitchen, don’t you remember? Pretending to be a spirit, dropped a business card that said he was a shapeshifter. I don’t know if it qualifies as an actual threat, but I felt threatened at the time.”
“I love you, honey, but that’s not saying much,” Viv said.
Penny glared at her.
“He could have been sent by the Ecks though,” Karen offered. “Like an errand boy.”
Penny thought about that for a moment. True, Kip had said he was hired help, linked to the Families. But he was linked with the Macombers, not the Ecks. The two families were sworn enemies, so why would the Ecks send a Macomber stooge to scare them off?
No, it didn’t make sense.
She considered bringing this up as an objection but stopped herself, since the intel came from Kip, and Kip was a part of her life she found hard to explain to anyone, even Karen and Viv. A lot of Penny’s life stayed private, known to her alone, not out of a desire to deceive others but due to an unwillingness to explain things that others hadn’t seen and a worry that they wouldn’t believe her in the event that she tried.
She could have shared all of this aloud right away, but she didn’t.
“Any other ideas?” Viv said.
“Well, there’s the letter from the lawyer,” Karen said.
“Sure,” Penny said. “And it’s also possible that they’ve been on our tail in other ways, ways we may have missed.”
“Now there’s an interesting thought,” Karen said.
“I guess it’s not just rich people who are paranoid,” Viv joked.
Penny glared at her. Now she really didn’t want to talk about Change’s background and how it contradicted their focus on the Ecks.
“Anyway,” Karen said. “I mean it. Forget the donor list. Let’s go bigger. It has to be bigger.”
Viv had a headache and Penny was tired of talking, so they rode the rest of the way home in silence.
When they got home, Viv did a little digging.
“Oh jeez,” Viv said. “Karen, you’re a genius.”
“I am?” Karen asked. “Why?”
“The crowdfunding platform. Guess who founded it?” Viv said.
“Who?”
“Bronson Eck,” Viv said.
“You’re kidding me,” Penny said.
“Nope,” Viv said. She showed Penny.
“That can’t be right,” Penny said.
“Look, Penny, sometimes it’s really that straightforward. Sometimes it’s just that obvious,” Karen said.
“That isn’t it…” Penny said. “There’s just so much that doesn’t line up.”
“Like what?” Karen asked.
“Was there an Eck on that client list?” Penny said.
“Yes,” Karen replied. “And if Heather did get a threatening call from some rich person, then Eck would fit that perfectly.”
“But Karen, you didn’t get a sense off Eck that he’d done it, did you?” Penny persisted.
“Well, no,” Karen replied. “But maybe I was wrong. It can happen.”
“Roscoe came to the same conclusion though. What are the odds that you’d both be wrong?” Penny said.
“I don’t know,” Karen admitted. “But I’d imagine it’s possible.”
“And why would the founder of an app care about a tornado hitting a house after it closes? He’d get his money either way,” Penny said.
“Ah, that one’s actually not so farfetched,” Viv chimed in.
Penny looked at her expectantly.
“It’s a viral story waiting to happen. Bunch of investors thwarted by a tornado that an unsavory agent probably foresaw. Horrible publicity,” Viv said.
“And a murder with your app’s name attached to it isn’t horrible publicity?” Penny said.
“Well, you’ve met Bronson Eck. He probably didn’t think so far through things,” Viv said.
“Not to mention he’s been in prison the entire time,” Penny said.
“So he sent hitmen,” Viv said. “Honestly, Penny, it’s not hard to imagine.”
Penny sighed. Actually, yes, it was very hard for her to imagine. Even setting the shapeshifter aside, none of the pieces really fit, not without an awful lot of force being applied to jam them in.
And that was something as an investigator she tried to never do.
“Okay,” Penny said, switching strategies, “Let’s say that Eck ordered all of these murders. That he hired professionals.”
Viv nodded.
“We still don’t have a trail,” Penny replied. “And we’re not taking down someone that powerful without an airtight case.”
“True,” Viv said begrudgingly.
“Besides,” Penny continued, “I don’t care how much of a rich asshole he is, I’m not putting anyone behind bars unless I’m absolutely sure. And I’m just not sold that Eck’s our guy.”
“Eck and company,” Viv corrected.
“Right,” Penny said. “The whole Eck angle just isn’t coming together for me.”
“Well,” Viv said thoughtfully. “In that case, Penny, I’ll see what I can do.”
There was another important break in the case that soon followed. After the third set of murders, the higherups at PsyOps decided the balance had shifted. They were now ready to ship the blood sample – blood which most likely was the killer’s – to the United States for DNA analysis.
“No promises on how long it takes,” Martin said.
Viv threw herself into retracing the case as it was. She started with the idea that Eck had ordered the murders and went over the available evidence over and over again, trying to construct a case.
She’d learned from experience that this sometimes worked, starting with a solution and then moving backwards to find the path towards it.
She knew Eck was the killer. She could feel it. Now she just had to find a way to prove it.
The DNA test came back within the week, shocking everyone with the speed.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Martin said. “That’s the fastest turnaround I’ve ever seen.” He paused. “Maybe peace has a chance, after all. Maybe the US will leave us alone. No more war.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Viv replied.
“Oh?” Martin asked.
“You hurt someone that bad, they don’t forget. Maybe they pretend they do, but that doesn’t mean they won’t find a way to get back at you when they see the opportunity,” Viv said.
“I don’t know how you date this woman. She’s scary sometimes,” Martin said to Karen and Penny.
They laugh
ed.
“Anyway,” Martin continued, “I’m sorry to say we didn’t have an exact match.”
“Of course not,” Viv said. “That would be too easy.”
“It’s awfully hard to develop a comprehensive DNA database for a population when you have to depend on your ex-sovereign for testing,” Martin said.
“I don’t know why we just don’t develop the technology ourselves,” Viv snapped.
“Yes, you do,” Martin said. “Tech is expensive. And people are cheap in the Psychic State. Detectives. Manpower.”
“You mean, psychics are cheap in the Psychic State,” Viv corrected him.
“Yeah,” Martin said. “Psychics are people though, right?’
“You wouldn’t know it sometimes,” Viv replied.
Martin frowned. “Do you want to hear the results or not?”
“Viv,” Penny said. “Let’s just hear what he has to say.”
Viv sighed. She nodded.
“Thanks, Penny,” Martin said. “Anyway, we didn’t find an exact match on anybody – since we don’t have a lot of info to compare. But we do know one thing: Our killer is female.”
“Really?” Viv said.
Martin nodded.
“Well, unless there’s something important Bronson Eck isn’t telling us, it’s not him,” Viv said.
It was a really terrible joke, kind of offensive and not even funny, but Viv seemed so depressed that Penny or Karen didn’t point that out.
All That Withers Isn’t Old
“So it isn’t Eck,” Penny said after they’d left Martin’s office. “Fine. I know you’re disappointed about this, Viv, but it’s important information.”
Viv sighed. “Sure.” She sighed again. “How many times have I heard that? Important information… a detective’s least favorite euphemism.”
“It’s like AFOG,” Penny said.
“AFOG?” Viv asked.
“Another Fucking Opportunity for Growth,” Penny replied.
Viv laughed. “Yes. It’s exactly like that. Important information is the detective’s AFOG.”
“A woman,” Karen said. “That takes us completely off our radar.”
“Wasn’t suspecting that at all,” Viv agreed.
