“We gotta play this careful,” Ford said. “We’re on borrowed time and don’t want him clamming up.”
“If he does, I’ll soon pry the guy open,” Beggs said, his hard stare fixed through the glass.
“That’s exactly why I’m sending Brentt in and not you,” Ford said. They turned to see Chaney’s lawyer entering the interview room. The man looked more annoyed than anything and as though he’d been practicing law for more than a century.
“See if you can get him to talk,” Ford said, motioning for Salvi to start.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, and stepped out of the observation room into the corridor, then into the interview room.
Chaney watched her enter and a smile spread across his face.
“Detective Brentt,” he said calmly.
Salvi took the seat opposite him. “How long have you known?”
“Since the night you ran out on me. You were a security risk.”
“How did you find out?”
“What’s this about?” the lawyer said, cutting Chaney off. “You’ve brought him in for questioning. Do you intend to lay any charges?”
Salvi smiled. “Well that depends on whether Mr. Chaney would like to cooperate with us.”
“Cooperate on what?” the lawyer asked.
“Right now, we’d just like some information.”
“Pertaining to?”
“A murdered police officer and a missing girl.”
“I don’t know anything about a murdered police officer or a missing girl,” Chaney said.
“Perhaps,” Salvi said, “but you do know your clientele.”
The lawyer held his hand up to stop Chaney from answering. “What Mr. Chaney’s clientele do in their spare time is none of my client’s concern.”
“Your client,” Salvi dropped her smile, “was running an illegal club, selling illegal tech and illegal drugs, and I’m sure if we look a little harder into it, prostitution, and serving minors.”
“There was never any prostitution,” Chaney said, “and we never allowed anyone under twenty-one into my club.”
“Lance,” the lawyer cautioned.
Salvi shrugged. “Some kids get great fake ID these days. Especially if their sugar daddy buys one for them.”
“I can’t control–”
“Yes, you can, Lance,” Salvi cut him off, dropping any friendliness now.
“IDs can be forged,” the lawyer said. “Law enforcement can’t keep up with the hackers and the tech pros these days.”
“Who supplied the neural tech?” she asked Chaney. He stared back at her, silent. “Who supplied the drugs?” she asked. “Did they come from the same source?”
“What does this have to do with a murdered police officer and a missing girl?” the lawyer asked.
“Everything.”
“How so?” Chaney asked her, appearing genuinely intrigued.
“The missing girl was last seen entering Floor to Ceiling. The police officer went in undercover to find her. He was tortured and murdered. Two people went into your club. One disappeared. One died. Do you care to explain to me how that might’ve happened?”
“Whoever was responsible, it wasn’t me,” Chaney said. “I merely provide a venue for people to drink and dance in.”
“And use illegal tech and drugs,” Salvi added. “You never saw or heard anything?”
He shrugged. Salvi placed her forearm on the table and tapped at her iPort, bringing up hologram images of Caine and Clare.
“Have you seen either of these people?”
Chaney stared at the two. Salvi saw recognition as he stared at Caine.
“Yes or no?” she demanded.
“I saw the man in the Ceiling once. I’ve never seen her before.”
“Who was the man talking to?”
“He was with a small group. Some were regulars, some were unfamiliar.”
“Who were the regulars?”
“Believe it or not I don’t know all my clients by name.”
“Okay, give me a physical description .”
“They were white. Rich.”
“Was Detective Caine seen with these people often on your other levels?”
“I don’t know. I have several clubs and I’m always bouncing from one to the other. As you well know,” he smiled.
“We’ll need to access your security footage and have our AI identify these men.”
“I guarantee my clients’ confidentiality, so I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” Chaney said.
“You can if we hand you a warrant,” Salvi said, then turned to the mirrored windows, giving a look to those inside, to have Riverton start the warrant process.
“I have nothing to hide,” Chaney said.
“Except your underground club.”
“The club was underground to ensure the privacy of my clients.”
“So they could partake in a whole raft of illegalities.”
“Everything that took place in my club, was done with everyone’s consent–”
“Lance–” the lawyer cut him off.
“Consent or not,” Salvi said, “it’s still illegal to use that neural tech and those drugs.”
“People will do what they want anyway,” he said. “I merely provided them with a space to do things safely.”
“Lance!” the lawyer barked.
“She was there, she saw everything!” Chaney snipped back. The lawyer relented.
“You think you gave them a safe space?” Salvi asked him.
“You remember Erica?” he asked.
“The woman who injected me with the drug without my consent?”
“She’s a qualified nurse. All the injectors were. We didn’t allow the patrons to do it themselves. You saw the console for the neural tech. That was used to observe the subjects and ensure they were travelling alright.”
“I did not consent to be stabbed with that needle.”
“The moment you stepped into that room with me, the moment you allowed her to apply the neural devices, that was your consent.”
Salvi leaned across the table. “No. It wasn’t.”
He leaned across the table too. “You came onto me, detective. You practically begged me to give you the drug. How was the ride by the way? Did you enjoy it? Is that how far undercover officers take things these days?”
“Yes, because I needed to get my hands on the neural tech so we could try and track the supplier.”
“So if you have the tech and you know, then why are you asking me who they are?”
“What’s your connection with Neuricle Corporation? Their tech was recently stolen. Know anything about that?”
“You’re accusing him of theft now?” the lawyer asked.
“Not only was he allowing illegal neural tech to be used in his club, but he was allowing stolen illegal neural tech to be used.”
“I didn’t know it was stolen.”
“You didn’t ask where it came from?”
“No.”
“Who supplied it?”
Chaney didn’t answer.
“Do you realize how much trouble you’re in?” Salvi asked.
“Do you realize why we ask our guests to sign an NDA? Why they expect our silence in return?”
“Do you understand that a man is dead? That a girl is missing? That several girls are missing?”
Chaney stared at her. She could see his mind ticking over. The information that several girls were missing appeared to be news to him. “I told you I don’t know anything about that.”
“By staying silent, you are complicit in this person’s crimes.”
“I can’t control what people do outside of Diabolique!”
“You let them fulfil their fantasies inside Diabolique. You don’t get to enable them then wash your hands of this.”
“The whole point of my club is to provide a safe space with security and medical staff, and consent! That’s always what it’s been about. Nothing more!”
“Maybe so, L
ance, but someone has been preying on your clientele. Someone has made young girls go missing, has brutally ended the life of a young detective.” Salvi pulled up images of Caine’s body, tied to the rotating wheel. “One of the cops I worked with!” Chaney looked away from the pictures. “Do you want to look that guy’s girlfriend in the eye and tell her that’s not what your club was about?” Salvi asked.
“It wasn’t what my club was about!” he said through gritted teeth.
“Maybe so, but people have gone missing and someone has taken your drug-tech and unleashed it on the streets. People are dying.”
“You’re blaming me for the crime wave now?”
“The drug on the streets is called Fyte. It is exactly like Flyte but instead of people fucking it’s about people fighting, Lance, and people are getting killed. Someone took your Flyte drug-tech, they messed with it, and now it’s leaked onto the streets as Fyte.”
“The drug-tech isn’t supposed to leave Diabolique. We have measures in place to–”
“I got out with it.”
“That’s because you had been with me. They thought you were with me, so they didn’t apply their usual rigor of checks they do with other guests leaving.”
Salvi stared at him. She took a moment then softened her features.
“Look, Lance, I believe you when you say Diabolique was all about providing a safe space, about consenting adults doing what they wanted to, but someone has taken your safe space, preyed upon its patrons and turned it into a nightmare. We need to know who supplied you with the stolen tech.”
“I told you, I didn’t know it was stolen.”
“I believe you!” she said. “But I need to know, do you think whoever gave you that tech could be responsible for what’s on the streets now?”
He glanced at his lawyer, then back at her.
“Anything is possible.”
“Who?”
“Do you know who visits Diabolique?” he asked her, shoulders slumping a little. “You saw merely a fraction of who we’ve had down there. The rich, the famous, the powerful. Any one of them would have the contacts to squash me… But they are nothing compared to the one who supplied me this tech.”
Salvi sat back in her chair, studying him. “You’re scared of them…”
“We started the club together…” Chaney eventually said. “Back then we had the same goal, to give the rich and famous somewhere they could relax and indulge. Bit by bit we built up the club, literally floor to ceiling, then we pushed it even further and that’s when we went underground. Even more exclusive, even closer to the edge.” He exhaled. “But then they wanted to take it further still, and I drew my line. We disagreed. I held my ground. Things turned bitter. The partnership ended.”
“How far were they prepared to go?”
Chaney looked at his lawyer who nodded. Chaney looked back to Salvi. “They wanted prostitutes available in Diabolique. I didn’t. It wasn’t about one person buying something from another. That’s not what I wanted my club to be about. It was supposed to be consenting adults, enjoying consensual activities.”
“What about the robo-whores? Same thing, right?”
“No,” he said. “They’re not people. They’re different. Besides, we never provided them in Diabolique, we just never stopped people from bringing them in themselves.”
“So this partner, they just pulled back? Just like that? Who are they?”
“They’re a silent partner. An invisible partner, if you will. They funded the club in the early days while I managed it. They insisted their name never be on anything, that nothing could be linked back to them. You won’t find any digital trace. They’re too smart for that. I soon learned they were smarter than I ever gave them credit for, that they had me over a barrel. While they were funding the club, I was their lackey. So I got smart too and eventually raised enough cash and offered to buy them out so they would leave me alone.”
“But they haven’t,” Salvi said. “Now they’re preying on your clientele.”
Chaney considered her statement. “Possibly. We made a lot of money together. Where I reinvested into more clubs, they turned their money into power. The power went to their head, and they turned dangerous.”
“How so?”
“Because they’ve built a small army around them.” Chaney looked down at the table, then back up at Salvi, “and they’ve become untouchable. They know everyone’s secrets. Why do you think they’ve gotten away with things for so long? Because they have dirt on everyone. Your cops, your politicians. Half of them are visitors to either my club or theirs.”
“They own another club?”
Chaney realized his slip up. “I’ve never seen it, I’ve just heard rumors.”
“And why do you keep saying ‘they’?” Salvi demanded.
Chaney smiled. “I never found out their name.”
“Bullshit.”
Chaney shook his head. “That was part of the deal. All communication was done through their henchmen to pass on messages.”
“You took money from a nameless person without any questions?”
“Oh, I had questions,” he said, “but I was young and hungry, so I looked past it in order to feed my own aspirations.”
“So you don’t have a name,” Salvi said, unsure whether she believed him, “but you know how to contact them.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I told you, they’re a ghost. They don’t want to be found. They have an entire team of hackers cleaning up their digital traces, of souped-up personal security keeping them safe. You won’t find them.”
“I don’t believe that, Lance. You’re too smart to take some ghost’s word as gospel and take their money. You’ve met them. Give our AI a physical description of them. Are they male or female?”
“I only met them once in person. They wore a big coat and a digital mask.”
“A digital mask?” she straightened.
“Yeah, just like the one you saw in Diabolique. They’re basically a gimp mask but they have a series of presets that project an image so you can change the appearance of it. When I spoke to them, the face on that mask was of a blonde woman. I have no idea what they look like.”
“What about build? Any tattoos? Anything of note?”
Chaney shrugged. “They wore a long bulky coat. I have no idea if they were male or female.”
“Hair color?”
“It was a full head digital mask.”
“Skin color?”
“No idea, they wore gloves. I saw no skin at all.”
“Voice?”
“Digitized.”
Salvi sat back in her chair again. “You have to know more than this.”
“I’ve spent my life working elite clubs,” he told her. “Trust me, the richer and more powerful they are, the weirder they can get. So when this person approaches me wearing a digital mask and compliments me on how I run my bar and offers me cash to run theirs, and when I say offers me cash, I mean they had a bag full of it right there in front of me, I jumped at the chance. I’d never seen so much money and I was done with the club I was working at the time. I’d been busting my ass and getting nowhere, and suddenly they show up and offer me this. Plus they gave me free rein at first. I could run the club how I wanted to.”
“Tell me about this other club of theirs.”
“Like I said, I’ve never seen it. What I know is only rumor.”
“What is the rumor?”
He hesitated. “I believe they were setting up the kind of club they wanted to run. The kind of club I didn’t want to run. I don’t know where.”
“Where did you hear this rumor? We’ll speak to them.”
Chaney paused, shook his head. “It was small talk in the club, I don’t remember who said it.”
“Of course you do.”
“There was a group,” he shrugged. “I really can’t remember which one said it.”
“Tell me all their names and we’ll figu
re it out.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I told you, I will not betray my clients’ trust.”
“And I told you what charges you could be facing. This person that you’re so afraid of is out there killing people and making them disappear. They need to be stopped.”
“You won’t stop them.”
“We’ll be the judge of that.”
Chaney leaned forward. “And if they have dirt on the judge?”
Salvi stared at him.
“They can’t be stopped,” he said, sitting back again. “I told you, they own half the people in this city. You need to forget this, or they will take you out.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. It’s a warning,” he said. “I’m not a heartless asshole, detective. If you take this investigation any further, you will wind up like your colleague did. I’m trying to help you here.”
“You act like you’re protecting me, but I think you’re just protecting them.”
“I’m protecting everyone. From them.”
“No one will be protected if they’re allowed to continue doing what they’re doing. If we leave the beast unchecked, it will rise up and consume us all.”
He sighed and folded his arms. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you anything more.”
Salvi stared at him a moment, then stood.
“Then I’m sorry but we will have to press charges and shut your club down.”
12: FAR AND WIDE
Salvi sat at her desk in the hub, watching as Riverton did its thing, processing the security footage from Floor to Ceiling. It had taken some calls from Ford, but eventually she found a judge willing to sign off on the warrant. It was only for the club’s external footage and the floors 1-3 only, as apparently the Ceiling and Diabolique had no cameras installed, but it would do. Now they could scour the footage to see if they could find a trace of Caine or the Chief’s daughter, while Ford began the background processes to shut the club down.
Ford had suggested Salvi go home to rest, but she couldn’t. Although Chaney was being charged for the illegal neural-tech and supply of drugs in his unlicensed underground club, they couldn’t hold him, and he’d been released. Ford had strongly recommended that Chaney remain in their custody, but Chaney had refused the offer, saying that would just make him look guilty. Ford sent him on his way and Sorensen placed a couple of the narcotic detectives, Farrugia and Burke, on his tail to keep an eye on him. Regardless, with Chaney released, that meant time was short before word hit the streets that he’d been talking to the police. They had to move fast.
The Sensation Page 21
