“First, may I congratulate you, Sire? I’ve heard reports that you are about to remarry.”
“Yes, and thank you,” Dunham said with a smile. “I’m very pleased to have found someone willing to share this… situation in which I find myself… with me.” He glanced at a calendar on the desk. “We plan to wed in a couple of months, around the time of the one-year anniversary of… of m-my ascending to the throne.”
The two men paused, and Dunham’s gaze grew distant with bitter memory; Carter well understood the reason for the slight stumble in the Emperor’s statement, and deeply empathized with him. So he gave him plenty of time to regain his composure before returning to the point of the meeting. Dunham glanced at the older man, then nodded with a look of gratitude on his face, and Carter realized his liege understood what he was doing and appreciated it. Carter returned the nod, briefly putting his hand over his heart as a nonverbal way of conveying his sympathies, and Dunham nodded again. Finally Carter resumed the original topic.
“Very good, then. Let me get on to business, and not waste His Majesty’s time. May I assume, Sire, that you’ve read my communiqués regarding the conspiracy that’s developed in the New Headquarters organization?”
“I have. I am not pleased.” The white-blue eyes grew cold. Carter tried not to obviously bite his lip.
“I’m sorry, Sire. We’re cleaning up the mess as best we can, and endeavoring to determine how they got past our requirements in the first place. The first step, however, is figuring out who is in on it, and who lied under oath, and who did not. From a purely diplomatic standpoint, it’s… tricky.”
“Oh, no no, Director Carter,” Dunham said, his eyes warming slightly. “I’m most pleased with you and your hand-picked people; you are doing an excellent job – and you’re right, it is hard. You are rebuilding the organization from scratch, with very few inside the organization you can trust to vet the others… and I fully understand that. No, I am emphatically not happy with the conspirators.”
“Ah. That does make me feel a bit better.”
“Good. Forgive me; I should have been clearer.”
“I expect it takes a great deal to get used to the repercussions of being the Emperor,” Carter offered with a slight, wry smile.
“Oh, it does indeed, Director. It certainly does. In any case, back to your little conspiracy. I trust that you, as the principal target, have taken all due precautions to remain safe?”
“Yes, Sire. As well as my wife, my right-hand man, and his wife – all of whom are being targeted, in addition to myself, as we are all police officers of various sorts. But I was wondering something.”
“By all means, ask.”
“Given the last time such a thing happened, your sister was directly involved according to Detective Ashton, and you yourself had some participation, never mind the execution of judgement upon the Council and the original Headquarters staff… well, I simply wondered how you might wish this handled, Sire.”
“Ah. Hm.” Dunham paused to consider. “Well, that is a good question. You’re asking if I want them tried in the standard courts, or under the Throne’s system of high justice?”
“Precisely, Your Majesty.”
“I don’t know as yet. I’ll have to think on it,” Dunham concluded. “I may have to wait and see the interrogations and decide what I make of them, before reaching that decision.”
“Do you intend to attend the interrogations from an observing room, then, Sire?”
Dunham sighed in regret.
“No, I’m afraid I simply won’t have time to do that,” he said. “As you noted earlier, Director Carter, there is a great deal involved in becoming an Emperor, and as if that weren’t enough, there are some other items, international diplomacy and restructuring of other branches of government and whatnot, things festering in the odd corner here and there, that cannot be left to lie – they demand my attention, and at the highest priority. However, what I think I can promise you is that I will view the interrogations in the evenings, most likely the same day they were conducted, though if certain other things accelerate, it may take me a couple of days to get to them. But I promise you this, Director Carter – I’ll watch them personally, and let you know as soon as possible if I will issue a ruling or let it go to the standard courts.”
“You know that one of ours has already been injured on their account?”
“I had heard something of the sort, yes. Will he survive?”
“We… don’t know yet. He’s in the hospital, in grave condition.”
“I see. It was an accident, was it not? It was a lightning strike, according to what I was told? Is that correct?”
“Yes. But one that would not have happened had he not been working to safe the sabotage package placed by the conspirators, at the time the strike occurred. So in that regard, should he… not survive, it would be considered manslaughter in the first degree, and likely ought to be added to the charges levied against the conspirators.”
“Mm. Yes, I understand what you’re saying, Director Carter, and you’re right. Very well; I’ll factor that information into my decision-making, also. I hope we do not have to add the manslaughter charge, however, for his sake. Keep me posted on his condition, please?”
“I will be happy to, Sire. He… works under my wife in the Imperial City Police, and she considers the younger members of her division – of which he was one – her ‘work kiddies,’ as she puts it.”
“Ah. I see. So he is extended family, of a sort.”
“Just so, Sire.”
“Please convey my sympathies to your wife, then, Director Carter. As Emperor, I believe I understand the concept, all too well.”
“Yes, Sire. I’m sure you do. And she will appreciate that.”
“Do you have a timetable for events yet?”
“Not yet; it is all still developing… and we are allowing it to do so. I’ll keep you apprised of that, too, Your Majesty.”
“Very good, then, Director Carter. I understand, and I will wait to hear from you.”
And Dunham dropped out of the channel. Carter found himself back in his office at Temporary New IPD Headquarters.
Dinner that night was a morose and very quiet affair. Everyone got into the Ashtons’ kitchen to cook – Cally, Nick, Maia, and Lee – but they decided on relatively simple fare, easy to fix and easy to digest, because they were all upset. A colleague and friend, one who had been trying to help them, lay in the intensive care unit of the Hayden Creek Hospital, the nearest medical facility to the Carter house, and they still didn’t know if he would live or die. More, even if he lived, he might well be permanently crippled in some fashion. And they all knew it.
Little was said about it; that simply wasn’t the way with experienced police officers. So in order to keep their minds occupied, each one made a dish. Nick made loaded stuffed potato skins as an appetizer. Cally made a simple gâteau de viande – the French version of meatloaf. Maia made pan-fried potatoes drizzled with truffle oil, and Lee made a Catalonia-style corn salad featuring just a smidge of his homemade chili powder seasoning, to give it a kick without risking digestive upset on stressed bodies. For dessert, they had basic, store-bought vanilla ice cream… topped with a jar of Cally’s father’s homemade peach preserves. When they finally sat down to the table, however, all four abruptly paused and bowed their heads. Still, nothing was said...but each knew that a joint petition had just been sent up on behalf of Alan Compton.
“Damn,” Nick murmured, as he raised his head. The others muttered agreement.
“I feel responsible,” Maia added, subdued.
“Me too,” Lee agreed.
“Make it three,” Cally said.
“Four,” Nick noted.
They all sat in silence then, staring at the food on their plates. Finally Maia spoke.
“Well, guys, there’s no sense sitting here letting the lovely food get cold and spoil. Alan sure wouldn’t want that.”
“No, that’s true,�
� Cally agreed. “He always loved it when I brought in some new cooking experiment to the precinct to share.”
At that, Lee raised his glass of wine. The others followed suit.
“To Alan,” he declared. “With all our love and gratitude. Now and always.”
“To Alan,” the others echoed, and they drank.
After that, they relaxed a little. The dinner, delicious despite – or perhaps because of – its simplicity, was savored by all, and soon there was very little left. Nick moved to the wet bar in the den and poured the preferred libations for each person, then handed them around, as the other three filtered into the den after clearing the table and putting the dishes in the washer.
“Ahh, that’s a little better,” Maia said, easing into a corner of the couch and sipping her whiskey.
“Yeah, it is. But I think I’m really glad for the latest driverless option in our car, hon,” Lee decided, as he settled in beside her and sipped his own cognac. “I could use a few stiff ones tonight.”
“No shit,” Nick agreed, over his own whiskey. “This has been one hell of a day.”
“It sure hasn’t made me like the conspirators any more,” Cally noted over a glass of dessert wine; the statement was practically a snarl.
“I gotta say I agree with Cally, there,” Maia growled. “I do hope you two plan some serious retribution over this.”
“Trust me, guys,” Lee said. “I’m all over that one.”
“What?” Cally wondered.
“Can’t say yet. Still working on it. Trust me.”
“Good, and we do,” Maia said emphatically. “Now, how are we gonna ensure this doesn’t happen again?”
“I think we probably need to dig a lot deeper on the background checks,” Nick said. “I can’t say for the rest of the Headquarters staff, but I’ve hesitated to load The Team down with too much of that.”
“Don’t,” Maia scolded. “Just because we’re not in the same section doesn’t mean we’re not in the same business. Our section ultimately reports to Lee anyway, through the Imp City section… which representative, I’ve gathered, looks like being my boss, General Quan. Let us help.”
“But aren’t you handling pretty much all of the crime in Imp City while we get built back up?” Nick wondered.
“To a point, but the best way to help us is to get staffed up with legit, honest cops,” Maia pointed out. “I, for one, do not want to end up back in the same shape we were in when you came to us, Nick.”
“She’s right, son,” Lee said. “They want to help enough to risk life and limb for us – and already have, as they demonstrated today, in spades. Let ‘em. And since you’re head of the Investigations division, it lands in your lap to do the background checks for everybody, anyway. Get your own guys checked out good, and they can help you – and them.”
“And you’re sure you trust Peabody?” Maia pressed.
“I do now,” Nick vouched for the other man. “So far I think I’ve got a pretty decent team of investigators forming, but there’s just not enough of us to do all that. Not to start from scratch with the entire staff.”
“Send it to us,” Cally pressed.
“Okay, okay, guys, I get the message,” Nick said with a sigh. “I’ll do that tomorrow. I’ll be nice, though, and try to break it up into batches. Maybe according to the division or something.”
“That’ll work,” Maia decreed.
“Something else I’m thinking about…” Lee said, letting his voice trail off.
“What?”
“Your idea about the lie detector seat, Nick.”
“Oh, that,” Nick said, then pointed out, “Well, we’re gonna need one for the conspirators, for sure.”
“Yup. But you might be right about the swearing in, at least where the various ‘oldies’ are concerned. I hate to do it, ‘cause it makes it seem like we don’t trust ‘em…”
“We don’t,” Cally interjected, blunt.
“Well, we may have to work on wording and shit,” Lee said. “I have to be diplomatic, at least to a point. But I already have one requisitioned, and Mr. Perrin, His Majesty’s Personal Secretary, has already informed me that Emperor Trajan is delighted, and has not only personally approved the requisition, he’s requested that it be expedited. He is… not pleased with the situation.”
“That’s… good,” Maia decided. Then she shook her head and grinned wryly.
“What?”
“My husband – who, let me note, I recommended for the job – reports directly to the Emperor, and regularly communicates with him and his staff,” she said, offering him a lopsided grin. “I’m still getting used to that, I guess. Time was when all that was way the hell above my pay grade. Not so long ago, either.”
“I’d have thought you would have expected it, Maia. You did recommend me, after all.”
“Hee! I get it! It’s one thing to have an intellectual understanding of it,” Cally said, grinning hugely, “and another to have to deal with the reality of it.”
“Egg-zackly,” Maia declared, matching Cally’s grin.
Nick and Lee exchanged meaningful glances, smiling slightly.
“No, we couldn’t have done better,” Nick responded to the unspoken message in Lee’s gaze.
“What?” Cally demanded, seeing the smiles.
“Nothing, Cally,” Lee said. “Just two ordinary men, pleased with their choices of mate.”
“You better be,” Maia said, mock-threatening. “You’re stuck with us now.”
They all chuckled.
By the end of the evening, they had the rest of the sting operation planned. Maia had a good notion of the quantity of work Nick was about to drop on her people, and Cally had proven adept at helping them brainstorm how to handle the ‘old guard’ police staff who were coming back to work.
“Because,” as she pointed out, “some of ‘em really are like Nick – they’re legit. And some of ‘em… aren’t.”
“Like the lot trying to kill us,” Maia grumbled.
“Yup,” Nick agreed. “So when are we gonna give ‘em the opportunity?”
“Give it a couple more days, I think,” Lee pondered. “And maybe another trip out by, say, a ‘drywall installer’… except all they have to do is go into the house and sit around for a while, maybe make the odd banging noise, then leave. No danger this time, other than any risk on the road. And with the latest version of automatic drive, even that’s unlikely.”
“But it also ensures the saboteurs aren’t gonna try to go back in the house,” Cally realized.
“Good observation, Detective,” Lee said with a grin. “So figure a dinner party at our place, with a proper tour of the whole house, and… hm. We need to plan for some serious boom, if our perps are gonna think they took us out.”
“True,” Nick said, “but I’ve got some ideas about that.” He offered them a wicked grin.
“By the look on your face, son, I believe I’m looking forward to hearing it,” Lee said, raising an eyebrow, as Maia leaned forward eagerly and Cally clapped her hands.
“…Oh, that’s a good ‘un,” Maia declared, when Nick was finished explaining his concept. “That’s a real good ‘un! I like it.”
“Yup, I agree. But I’ll see to it,” Lee said. “It’ll have to be handled just so, and I’m probably the best one to do it, given my position.”
“Let me know if you need backup on that,” Nick said.
“And it’s probably my people that need to be handling it,” Maia added.
“I will, Nick, and yes, Maia, honey. Now, it’s getting late, and these two newlyweds need to go do what newlyweds do before they crash,” Lee noted with a smirk, checking the time on the wall clock.
“Hey, mister. We’re not exactly old fogies here, ourselves, where that’s concerned,” Maia said, poking him in the ribs, and he grinned.
“Nope, we’re relative newlyweds too, and we still have to get home before we can do anything.”
“Hey, put the car on auto-dr
ive, the windows on one-way, and we’ll get started on the way home,” Maia shot back with a smirk.
They all laughed.
Then the Carters rose, hugged the Ashtons, and left.
Cally gave Nick a wicked grin.
“Let’s go, then,” he said, holding out a hand, as they headed for the bedroom.
The next morning, there was still no word on Compton, but the weather was finally starting to clear as the tropical system moved further inland and began to convert to an extra-tropical system. It was still overcast and muggy in the area of the Imperial City, but the thunderstorms had stopped, replaced by an intermittent light rain.
So ICPD Detectives Rich Weyand and Darrell Osborn went out to the Carter house in a van marked Courtland Drywall.
This time, it was Hennig watching the house. Like Brandt, he hid among the cubes of brick, and when the rain showers came through, he ducked under a nearby tree, careful to remain behind one of the cubes, at least as seen from the street. The tree itself, he decided, was big enough to hide him from anybody at the Carter house – he was glad the higher-end construction had left many of the larger trees, the builders choosing to landscape around them. At least, he considered, there wasn’t any lightning in the storm clouds today; Brandt had told him about the near-miss the day before, and he wasn’t keen on reenacting that event.
Hennig watched as the drywall van pulled up to the gate, two heads visible in the cab through the vehicle’s windows. Moments later, the gate opened, and the van pulled through; the gate closed quickly after it passed. Just as the other contractor vehicles had on the previous day, it headed down the drive, paused in front of the garage door, and waited for the door to open. The drywall van then pulled inside, and the garage door closed.
It was there essentially all day.
From time to time, borne on the gusty, sultry breeze off the departing tropical system, Hennig could hear an irregular pounding sound, like hammers, emanating from the Carter house.
EMPIRE: Imperial Detective Page 9
