Inside the Carter house, Osborn and Weyand mostly kicked back and relaxed, noshing on the pitcher of lemonade and platters of snacks the Carters had left for them, while working in VR on their other cases. From time to time, they donned ear protectors, then pulled out mallets and blocks of wood, placing the blocks on Lee’s work table in the garage before pounding on them with the mallets as hard as they could, grinning from ear to ear the whole time.
Half an hour before Carter was due to get off work, they packed up and left the way they had come, snorting in amusement as they watched the sentry in the adjacent lot through the security VR channels.
The next day was more of the same, though the sun was starting to come back out; Brandt watched the Carter house while Weyand and Osborn returned to ‘finish hanging the drywall’ – in reality, they were still working on their other cases in VR, and occasionally making noises appropriate to hanging drywall, including, that day, periodically running Carter’s power saw.
This time, however, they waited until Carter and Peterson arrived home in their personal vehicle. Carter opened the garage door in VR and pulled in next to the drywall van; Osborn and Weyand met them in the garage while the door was still open, allowing their spy to get a good view of the couple talking to the ‘contractors,’ then Carter shook hands with the two men. Weyand and Osborn climbed into the van as Peterson went on into the house proper through the garage, and Carter watched as the drywall van headed down the drive and onto the street.
Then he closed the garage door, disappearing from Brandt’s sight.
A Big Bada-Boom
The next morning, Director Carter swung by Detective Ashton’s office once more, and once again Ashton came to the door to greet him.
“Hey there, Lee,” he said, taking the older man’s hand, as they studiously ignored the subtle attempts of several of the nearby bullpen cops to listen in on the conversation. “What’s up? You need Investigations for something?”
“Nah. Nothing big or anything. Nor yet official, even. Maia and I were just wondering if you and Cally had any plans for tomorrow night.”
“Um, no, not that I’m aware of. Let me ping her in VR real quick and make sure…”
“Okay.”
Ashton developed a distant expression on his face as he went into VR to contact his wife. Moments later, his face was alert and aware once more, and he turned his attention back to his supervisor.
“No, we’re free. What’s on the schedule now?”
“That little dinner party we postponed on account of the plumbing leak,” Carter explained. “Everything’s repaired now, and we can show you both around the new house.”
“Aha! That sounds great; we’ve been looking forward to it. Do you need us to bring anything? Appetizer, dessert, a side dish?”
“No, we’re good on all that. Maia said you could bring a bottle of a good chardonnay if you want to. Oh, and she was wondering if Cally would share her recipe for that meatloaf she made the other night. Not that she has to bring one, just the recipe, if she’s willing.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her, but I’m certain she would,” Ashton said. “All of her recipes like that are just the family stuff that has developed over the years. Her dad is from an old French family. Obviously it’s a long way back, and the actual French on Earth may not make it anywhere like the way she and her family do…”
“If they don’t, they’re stupid,” Carter said with a laugh. He ignored Lieutenant Bill Carr as the other man wandered by, ostensibly headed for the water cooler. “For a plain ol’ meatloaf, that thing was delicious. And talk about, um, I guess you could call it comfort food, maybe – well, it was the absolute bomb. Maia swears I talked about it half the night, once we got back home. Including, so she declares, in my sleep!”
“Yeah, I gotta admit, I eat really damn well since we got married,” Ashton acknowledged with a chuckle, picking up on the cue and casually nodding a greeting at Carr as he returned to his desk in the adjacent bullpen with a cup of water. “I’ve definitely had to up my game in the gym.”
“I’ll bet. Eating like that all the time, a body could get pudgy in a damn hurry. So we can expect you both after work tomorrow night?”
“Sure thing, Lee. Give us time to go home and get cleaned up and changed after work, and we’ll be over. Oh, be sure to pop me the address so I can plug it into the maps-app in the car.”
“Wait. You got a car?”
“Yup. After you told us all about the one you purchased over dinner the other night, Cal and I discussed it and decided it was really a damn good idea. So we headed out the next evening, after work, and bought one ourselves. It isn’t nearly as big or fancy, though; it’s kind of an economy model, and only holds us two, so it’s a ‘mini,’ as the car sales people call ‘em. But it serves the purpose, and allows us to come and go as we please.” Ashton grinned. “But we’re still getting used to it. Even for a lower-end model, it’s got more bells and whistles than you can count.”
“Exactly, and ain’t it the truth? I didn’t have any idea you were considering that, Nick.”
“Well, it seemed like a reasonable notion, and right now we can afford it, so we decided to go for it. But like I said, we’re still getting used to it. So don’t forget to give me the address! It’ll take us probably ten minutes just to figure out how to tell it where we want to go!”
“Right! Will do. So around six or six-thirty?”
“That should do it, yeah. Make it six-thirty so we don’t have to rush in traffic. Never mind if we have trouble with the maps app.”
“Got it. I’ll tell Maia.”
And Carter headed back to his office, as Ashton went back to his desk.
Moments later, from one of the offices just outside the bullpen, a message was sent.
To: PBrandt, JHennig
Subject: dinner party
Scheduled for tomorrow night at 6:30 in the evening. Set your alerts for dinner at 7:30.
T.B.
Moments later, the response came back.
To: TBradly
Subject: RE: dinner party
Alerts set. Preps for proper atmosphere under way. Celebrations to commence 7:31.
J.H.
Ashton, with Carter’s experienced help, had long since hacked into the local VR networking, and saw the message go out. In his turn, he pinged Carter in a classified channel that no one else even knew about, because they’d set it up at the same time as the hack.
To: DirLC
Subject: Oldies
Bait taken. Notify The Team to prepare for multiple busts in about forty-six hours from now.
D.X.A.
Moments later, the response came back.
To: DXA
Subject: Re: Oldies
Copy. Done.
L.C.
Very late that night, Inspectors Stefan Gorski and Eugene Demetrius showed up in the darkness of a not-yet-completed neighborhood on the southwestern outskirts of the Imperial City, in a vehicle whose lights were very dim, and parked in a construction lot down the street. Ten minutes later and on foot, they slipped through the barely-open gate carrying a special package, on which was a very specific Imperial transaction stamp. As soon as they made it through the gate, they headed off the drive and behind the shrubs that lined it, aiming for the opposite side of the house from the lot the saboteurs had been using for surveillance; the house security did not indicate their presence, but the two men were taking no chances.
Maia Peterson let them in a side entrance of her house, and took them straight through to the back yard, which was largely out of sight of their surroundings due to landscaping and the fact that they had left most of the trees on this wooded part of the lot. Carter was waiting for them there, and the four slipped deep into the back yard.
The Carters owned a solid eight-acre lot, and it backed on a small lake. The lot was slightly wedge-shaped so that it fronted readily on the street without monopolizing that route, but widened as one went back, and simultaneo
usly encompassed a substantial part of the lakeshore front, which was not that far from the house, though somewhat screened by all the trees that had attracted the couple to the lot in the first place. There was plenty of room for a stroll, picnics under the trees, sunning on the deck or lakeside, swimming, and even boating.
The lake also made for an extremely safe place for discharging pyrotechnics.
The foursome placed a special, waterproof pad near the edge of the water, then Gorski set the package down in the center of the pad and opened it. Demetrius reached inside and carefully flipped a few switches, then typed a number into a tiny keypad.
“Did you see that, Lee?” he asked in a low tone.
“1-1-4-8,” Carter murmured in response.
“Right. You can hit the switch in that channel. Or you can set up a timer.”
“All over it,” Carter replied. “Timer set.”
“You sure it’ll be big enough, Lee?”
“Oh yeah. I’m sure, Maia.”
“Did you notify the local departments…?” Gorski wondered.
“And put a classified header on it,” Carter averred. “It’ll go just like we want it to. Get… wait. How is Smith doing, after getting zapped?”
“He’s on partial duty,” Peterson noted. “I had him see a doctor straight away, and the doctor is treating him for a few things after the lightning strike. He’s developed a bit of palsy in his hands, and some things like that. We’re hoping that with a few tweaks to his nanites, that’ll improve and he’ll be good to go. But I’d rather not have him in on this, if we can help it.”
“Right. We can do that. Or not do it, rather. So gentlemen and lady, get The Team together – the ones not in the hospital or otherwise on the injured list, at least – and be ready day after tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”
“Right,” the two inspectors said in unison. Peterson nodded affirmation.
Then the two inspectors slipped back out the way they had come.
During the day, both Ashton and Carter noticed a certain eagerness and enthusiasm among certain members of the beat cop division. Specifically, a certain subset of the ‘oldies’ seemed to be quite cheerful that day. Lee and Nick weren’t sure whether to be amused or angry. They settled on ‘both.’
During lunch, thereby making sure the bullpen was deserted and no one would be watching, Peabody came to see Ashton. Ashton had made it a policy and practice that his office door was literally always open, unless someone was already inside with him and discussing either personal matters, or classified case details. And once that person left, the door was opened and remained open once again, thus inviting his people to come by and chat with him about their troubles – both personal and case.
“Well, hi, Peabody,” Ashton said, looking up from where he read applications to his division in the lower half of his vision. He waved at the visitor chair across his desk. “Have a seat. What can I do for you?”
Peabody came in – closing the door behind him – then moved straight to the indicated chair and sat.
“I just wanted to tag up with you about some things,” he said, glancing around meaningfully.
“We’re clear,” Ashton said, interpreting the glance. “That’s one of the advantages of an honest organization.” He didn’t mention that he now scanned for bugs every time he came back to the office, even from the men’s room… just in case. And since he had just returned from the men’s room fifteen minutes before, he knew for a fact that it was clear.
“Oh, good,” Peabody replied. “Listen, I, uh, I heard you and your wife are going over to Carter’s place for dinner tonight.”
“That’s right.”
“And he’s married to Colonel Peterson over in ICPD, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t go, Detective.”
“You’ve heard something.”
“There have been some… I suppose you could call them rumors. I’m not seeing anything definite.”
“Which is interesting, considering they were originally intending you for the Director’s office.”
“Yes. I don’t know if I’m suspect, or if Bradly decided he wants that office for himself. I have a strong hunch it’s the latter.”
“In which case, you might want to clear out once you get off work today. Go someplace no one will think to look for you.”
“That’s… not a bad idea,” Peabody decided. “What about you? What about Carter, and your wives?”
Ashton grinned.
“Stupid we ain’t,” he said. “Trust me. We’ll be okay.”
“And you’re sure?”
“I’m sure. And under the circumstances, I’m giving you the rest of the day off. Go home, get a bug-out bag together…”
“I keep one of those handy, and I have since… the old guard. Never knew when there might be a regime change that I found myself on the wrong side of.” Peabody shrugged. “I’m not sure where it’s gotten to now, but… it’s still there someplace. I should be able to find it pretty quickly.”
“Makes sense.” Ashton shrugged. “Go home, dig it out, and go. Right now. Turn off your VR until tomorrow afternoon. I’ll ping you then, and let you know if it’s safe to come back.”
“Thank you, Detective Ashton. That… sounds like a very good plan.” He rose, then added one more time, “Be careful.”
“I will.” Ashton checked the security videos in VR, then remarked, “Go now. Bradly and Carr are on the way back from lunch, and just entered the building. You don’t want ‘em to see you coming out of my office.”
“Roger that. Gone.”
Peabody promptly rose and slipped out the office door, headed to his own desk to gather his things.
On his way out the door, he raised an eyebrow, smiled, and nodded to Carr and Bradly as he passed.
Two hours later, and well outside the eastern outskirts of the Imperial City, Emily Walton, who was a mid-list mystery author of some note and worked from home, heard a knock on her front door. Puzzled, she rose from her desk and accessed the security audio in VR.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“An old friend,” came the response… in a familiar voice.
One that she hadn’t heard in many years.
“No,” she whispered, and accessed the security video. A man, likewise familiar from her younger years, though somewhat aged and more careworn, stood there with an uncertain smile on his face.
And flowers in his hand.
“WIN!” she cried, and rushed to the door, jerked it open, and flung herself into his arms.
“…But I figured you for dead, in the destruction of the Headquarters building,” Winston Peabody’s old flame Emily said, as they sat close together on her sofa. Peabody’s bug-out bag sat where it had been dropped, in a nearby armchair. “I cried and cried, all day…”
“No, I… was cooperating with the Throne, at that point,” he explained, feeling guilty that he hadn’t thought to contact her to let her know he was alive; in truth, since he’d been effectively imprisoned that whole time, he was still coming to grips with it, himself. It was, he had decided, like he’d lost a small chunk of his life, or perhaps a chunk of history, he was unsure yet which. “I wasn’t anywhere near Headquarters when that all went down.”
“Thank God,” Emily said, and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.
“Em, I… need some help right now,” he said then, uncertain how to approach the matter.
“What do you need? I’ll do everything I can to help,” Emily replied immediately, raising her head.
“Well, there’s an attempted coup going on within the new department,” he explained. “It’s some of the guys from the old regime; they’re trying to regain control of the department. My supervisor told me to clear out. Depending how it all winds up, I could regain my old position as head of Investigations, or I could even end up Director, or I could stay where I am to regain my rank the hard – but honest – way, or… I could be a wanted man.”
“You need someplace to hide,” Emily realized instantly. Peabody blinked.
“How did you…?”
“I haven’t written popular mystery novels for years without picking up a few things, Win,” she scolded gently, with a wry smile. “I even had a couple of best-sellers. And police officers and their families are some of my biggest fans. What does that tell you?”
They laughed.
“Did anyone see you come here?” she asked then.
“I don’t think so; I kept my eyes peeled. And I’m pretty good with that sort of thing.”
“Good. You can stay here, then.”
“But Em…”
“If you’re worried about proprieties, I have a spare bedroom,” she retorted, pert. “And if you’re the man I think you are, then the reasons we broke up won’t exist by tomorrow, anyway.”
Peabody felt his breath catch in his chest.
“Are you asking… if we…”
“No, I’m not asking, Win. I’m telling,” Emily replied, firm in both expression and tone of voice. “I’m not letting you get away again.”
And she kissed him.
That evening after work, Cally and Nick went home, showered together in their big, two-person shower – decadent though it appeared, they only occasionally used it for anything but showering; it simply speeded up getting ready, since neither had to wait – changed into casual clothes, then headed for the condominium tower’s parking garage and their little mini electric car. It turned out not to be as hard as they’d feared to enter their destination into the car’s maps app, and within a couple of minutes, they were on their way toward the southwest edge of the city.
Half an hour later, on the dot of 6:15 – fifteen minutes early – they were headed up the drive of the Carter residence.
Upon their arrival, the sentry in the adjacent lot – it happened to be Brandt, that day – cleared out, not wanting to be around to risk flying debris, never mind the anticipated concussion.
EMPIRE: Imperial Detective Page 10
