by K. C. Sivils
Corona was used to arguing with the prison A.I. It could be fun. Sally’s programming required her to obey his decisions. Something had changed in the A.I.’s synthesized voice. The strange shift in tone set his teeth on edge.
“Sally, are you angry?”
"I said I would talk to you later Dale. I do in fact have tasks requiring my attention.”
ENTERING HIS APARTMENT, Markeson promptly hung up his coat on the old-fashioned antique coat rack by the door. As he loosened his silk tie, he called out to Jennifer.
“Any messages?”
“Yes, Captain,” the apartment’s A.I. cooed seductively.
“Now Jennifer, I didn’t come home with lipstick on me, no need to act like that,” he teased.
“But Captain, I’ve missed you,” the A.I. pouted.
Ignoring the games, his A.I. seemed to be playing he asked for his messages.
“The Governor called. He and the Mayor want to meet with you. They’re a little disappointed in the take from the past few weeks.”
Annoyed, he barked at Jennifer.
“Tell them to handle collections themselves. I do have to work as a detective from time to time. I have other matters to attend to as well.”
“Please, Captain, no need to be so brusque with me,” Jennifer complained sourly. “I am only delivering the message. It’s not like it’s a message from one of your bimbos.”
Markeson paused to collect himself for a moment. He was going to have to wipe this A.I.'s personality too if things kept progressing like this. It was a shame too he thought. Jennifer was a fun personality to come home to.
“Jennifer, are you jealous?”
“Hmph,” was the A.I.’s reply. “You need to send a link to the Governor,” Jennifer said firmly before switching tactics. “Would you like for me to draw a bath for you? Prepare a meal?”
He paused to rub his temples. He needed time to think through everything he’d learned. Relaxation would speed the process.
"You know, Jennifer, a warm bath sounds nice. Would you fix me a drink? Scotch on the rocks, a double, please. I’ll be going out later for dinner.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you angry with me,” Jennifer replied softly.
Markeson laughed. This one was coy. Maybe he'd keep her after all if he could figure out how to make her a little more compliant, better able to read his mood to know when she needed not to be difficult.
“I should hope not,” he replied. “When I get home tonight, we’ll talk. How does that sound?”
HE ENTERED THE OLD apartment building. One of the first constructed in Capital City during its early days as a mining settlement, the dilapidated building had been configured quickly using shipping containers, designed to be repurposed into living quarters. Now it, like so many others of the early buildings was abandoned, giving every appearance of needing to be reduced to a pile of scrap to be melted down and recycled.
Josephson stood still and listened. He leaned against a wall, running his fingers along the filthy surface. Glancing at his fingertip, he noticed the coating was made up of rust and dirt. Placing his hand back on the wall and closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, trying to use all of his senses as Sarah would.
A faint smile crept onto his face. Josephson smelled a faint hint of burned beans. Somebody had been warming up a can of prepackaged, self-heating beans and burned them. The building wasn’t as abandoned as it looked.
“Jefferson,” he roared. “Detective Sergeant Josephson. No need to be worried. I just need to talk to you.”
Vibrations pulsed the filthy wall, from his hand up to his shoulder. Upstairs, on a higher level, someone was running. Josephson’s faint grin turned into a broad smile. A loud booming noise filled the empty building, making the young detective laugh.
“Oh, Sully would get a kick out of this.”
No longer bothering to hide his presence, Josephson pulled out his flashlight and turned it on, holding it in his left hand. With his right, he drew his sidearm. Following the sounds of groaning, he quickly made his way to the back of the building where he found his quarry.
“You really should make sure the door is unlocked before you try and run through it.”
"No need to be so happy about it Detective," the young man lying on the floor grumbled while rubbing his forehead. Dressed in black pants covered with a variety of stains, the young man pulled his cap off his head, revealing a shock of blonde greasy blonde hair. As Jefferson rubbed the rising welt on his forehead, Josephson noticed he'd grown a patchy beard, barely visible through the dirt on the man's face. Like the rest of the hacker, his faded blue jacket was torn and frayed with a coating of dust and various stains.
“Bill Jefferson, you are wanted on multiple warrants for breaking and entering, identity theft, computer crimes and we can add trespassing to that list as well.”
“What do you want?”
"To offer you a deal," Josephson said firmly, his demeanor changing. Pausing, he considered how Sully would intimidate the perp corned before him.
"Go away," Jefferson retorted. "We worked things out on that last beef, so we're even."
“Then you went and broke the law again. So once again you find yourself in the position of owing me.”
Josephson aimed his phase pistol at Jefferson’s left knee.
“Get up. We’re leaving.”
“You wouldn’t shoot me,” Jefferson countered.
Josephson didn’t flinch as he squeezed the trigger. Red light in the form of a small ball sped towards Jefferson’s left knee, striking it dead center.
“Yeeeooow,” the criminal screamed leaping to his feet, hopping on his right leg. “You shot me!”
Making a show of adjusting his phase weapon to a higher setting, the detective replied, his face deadpan.
“Yes, I did. Now that we’ve established I’ll shoot you, gather your things. You stink something awful. And one more thing, I secured all the exits so you couldn’t escape. Need to rethink your security systems.”
MACAULIFFE PLACED THE white linen napkin in his lap as the waiter served his salad. Another waiter showed him a bottle of wine for his approval. Pressing his lips together to cause his lips to purse, he shook his head slightly. Nodding in submission, the waiter vanished to bring another bottle of wine.
Alone, MacAuliffe pulled a somewhat larger than normal comm from the breast pocket his suit coat. Pressing several keys, he waited briefly, his face devoid of any emotion.
“Has he agreed,” a voice from the comm asked.
“Yes. If things work out, this Markeson will make a valuable low-level member of our Society. If not, he will be eliminated quickly.”
“Is the prison situation under control?”
“At the moment, no. Should it not come under control, Markeson will have failed in his first task.”
“You have the resources to eliminate him?”
"Yes. I sincerely hope the Detective succeeds. He is a difficult man.
Very talented and I might add, very driven.”
“Let’s hope you’re right MacAuliffe. If not, that will be your second failure on Beta Prime.”
Indifferent to the threat, MacAuliffe returned the device to his pocket. The vintage met his approval this time. The waiter opened the bottle. MacAuliffe smelled first the cork, then the aroma of the wine in his glass. Finally, he sipped from his drink. Nodding his approval, he dismissed the waiter.
Raising his glass of wine to the empty room, he toasted.
“Here’s to you Detective Markeson. May you succeed in all your endeavors.”
I STOPPED BY THE PRECINCT after a long walk in the cold to clear my mind. I had a few things I wanted to bring with me that I wouldn't be able to get my hands on in Graham easily.
To my surprise Markeson was emerging from his office, all dolled up for a night out on the town.
“Forget your little black book?” I asked.
He stopped, clearly surprised to see me.
“What are you doi
ng here? Shouldn’t you be up on Persephone?”
“Leaving in the morning.”
Markeson nodded, looking down at the floor as he did so. He seemed to make a decision and turned back to his door as I headed for the detective's bullpen. Looking over his shoulder, Markeson called out.
“Sullivan, a word.”
He was my boss.
“What? I’m sorta busy.”
He lowered his chin and glared at me. But I’d needled him a little, so it was worth it. I didn’t say anything as I followed him into his office. He closed the door behind me while I dropped into the uncomfortable chair he kept in front of his desk.
I liked to think of the chair as an ego booster for the pretty boy. It was part of his petty power games he played from time to time. Two can play games, so I sat in silence, waiting Markeson out.
“How is the investigation coming,” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Making progress.”
“Any suspects?”
“No.”
He frowned. “You call that progress?”
“We know how the murders were committed. Very sophisticated.”
Markeson nodded.
“Motive?”
“No. The two killings aren’t connected in an obvious way, but we know something is going on.”
"Find the motive, and you find the killer?"
“That’s the idea. Helps to know how it was done.”
“When are you going back?”
I looked at him. His face was open, relaxed. It was the most honest expression I had ever seen on the man’s face.
So I answered. “In the morning.”
He nodded again, his expression clouding. He looked away from me, towards a print of some landscape off world on his wall. I sensed Markeson was making a decision.
“Inspector,” he said, pausing while still focused on the print. “Be very careful. I agree with you. There’s something suspicious about all this.” Markeson turned to look me directly in the eye. “Let’s not kid ourselves here. We don’t like each other.”
I didn’t move or speak.
“But you’re still one of mine. I don’t like the fact you were assigned to this case. Somebody wants to mess with whatever is going on at Graham. That means you’re caught between two factions in a power struggle. These murders are just a small part of the bigger picture.”
For once, I agreed with Markeson, so I nodded.
“Solve the murders. Find out who did it and get out of there with your team in one piece.”
There it was. Markeson was getting some heat from the players. The question was, who were the players and what did they want?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I SAT IN MY REGULAR spot at Joe’s looking out the window, thinking about my conversation with Markeson, mainly though I was worried about Sarah. I was so focused on my thoughts I didn't notice Father Nathan sit down across from me in the booth.
“Sarah is it?”
I turned my face to look at the good Father. He looked like he always did, dressed in his black cleric’s garb. Today he was wearing an old school, classic hat, a fedora. Like me, he was a big man, thick with hard muscles. Unlike me, his clothing covered the scars telling the story of his past.
“Markeson,” I lied.
He nodded, showing no surprise.
“He’s feeling some heat I suppose.”
I nodded. “Tells me we’re right these murders aren’t really what’s important.”
Alice arrived with our breakfasts. She tossed my plate down in front of me, a glare my welcome for the day. Smiling her best smile, Alice gently placed Father Nathan’s breakfast down in front of him.
“Can I get you coffee, Father?”
He rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands before smiling at Alice and nodding yes. Alice turned without a word and left to get my friend his coffee.
“What did I do?”
"It's nothing Inspector," he assured me. "Alice will be okay as soon as this case is solved and the topic of prison and Ralph are never brought up together again.”
"Let's hope," I mumbled bitterly. "Women can hold grudges forever. Then they displace their anger on to me," I complained. "That Father is just one of the reasons why I'm single and going to stay that way."
He ignored me and dug into his breakfast with gusto.
To my surprise I blurted out, “I’m worried about Sarah. This thing with her sister, I don’t know if I can trust her when we go back up to Graham.”
My friend didn’t raise his head. He merely stopped chewing and with fork halfway to his mouth mumbled, “you worry too much. This job means more than you realize to Sarah. You mean too much to Sarah. You can trust her. When the case is over, that’s when you might want to start worrying.”
I stared at Father Nathan. Irritated he could be so blasé. Before I could respond, the pup interrupted me.
“Inspector, this is Bill.”
I looked at the scruffy young man standing next to him.
“You’re the B and E.”
Bill’s face started to turn red. Like I cared. We held warrants that would send him away for years. This Bill was our C.I. now. He could like it or not.
“Relax, Bill,” Josephson said firmly, nodding for me to scoot over. He sat down and pointed at an empty chair at a nearby table.
“Pull up a chair. Breakfast is on us. Unless you have something to say worthwhile, be quiet and eat.”
I felt proud of the pup. He was learning. Hopefully, he could keep this Bill under control while I was gone. A good C.I. was worth their weight in platinum credits. One that couldn’t be trusted could be a death sentence.
Alice arrived with steaming mugs of coffee for Father Nathan and Josephson. She sat them down along with Josephson’s regular breakfast. He ordered for Bill as Alice sat his glass of fruit juice down.
He waited till Alice left before sliding the mug of coffee over to me. He shrugged and reached into the right pocket of his greatcoat and retrieved two military grade comms out. He set them on the table.
"These were all I could get. Don't ask Inspector. Encrypted. One channel. We can have three-way conversations. I'll be monitoring around the clock." He picked up the one closest to him. "On off switch. Press this to talk. I can't make it any easier to use. It'll bounce off the communication satellites, so there will be no communication blackouts.
I pocketed the hi-tech comms.
“We’ll monitor everything we can. Bill here already hacked into the prison communications array.”
“Monitor the space station. Communications, financial transactions, shipping traffic, everything.”
Josephson lowered his head and tilted his eyes up. He whispered, “We don’t have warrants to do that.”
“Make sure Bill here doesn’t get caught.”
Bill dropped the piece of toast he was buttering, his mouth opening to protest.
The pup raised a hand to stop Bill's protestation before it started.
“If you’re as good as you say you are, nobody will get caught.”
I nodded my approval as Alice arrived at our table. Hands on hips she glared at me, her head tilted.
“Sarah comm’d. Ralph’s picking her up. She’ll meet everyone at the space port.”
I glared back, clenching my jaw.
Alice got the message and left.
“Everybody finish eating. We’ve got work to do.”
CHIEF O’BRIAN USED his key to let himself into his Chief of Detective’s office. To his surprise, Markeson was at his desk peering intently at the screen of his monitor.
“Sorry. Didn’t realize you were here so early. Just wanted to drop this off,” Chief O’Brian explained, tossing a tablet on Markeson’s desk. The bent detective didn’t say a word, just nodded acknowledging his Chief’s presence.
O’Brian shut the door behind him. Something serious was going on. Markeson never made it to the precinct this early in a shift. The chief just shrugged and headed back to
his desk.
Six months till he put in for early retirement. Then the bent detective would be someone else’s problem.
Stopping at the coffee dispenser by the detective’s bullpen, the Chief paused as he poured in the chemicals necessary to make the foul brew drinkable. He’d have to keep an eye on Markeson for a bit. If something was worrying the man enough to get him out of his luxury bed at this time of the day, it could escalate in a serious police matter.
Without tasting the foul smell coffee, O’Brian tossed it in the waste receptacle and hurried back to his office to check the duty rosters for the coming few days. He did have six more months to go before retiring. It wouldn’t do to get fired for a major incident he was unprepared for.
HE WATCHED AS THE BODYGUARDS took position with their breakfast trays and sat down strategically, surrounding him. From opposite directions Josef and XT, the new King of the Earth African gang cautiously made their way towards his seat. As the pair approached, each from a different direction, Dmitry motioned graciously for the other Kings to sit with him.
Josef was the first to reach the table. Setting his tray down, the tall, blonde haired and blue-eyed leader of the Aryans scanned the entire eating complex, noting the locations of screws and enemies before taking his seat. XT sat down without examining his surroundings in a show of open bravado.
"Caution my friend," Dmitry whispered. "Caution will lead to a long reign as king, especially in these times." His words of wisdom were met with a hard look, indifferent to any wisdom to be learned from the old con.
“Respect,” Josef growled. “Jamaal was smart and showed respect when sound advice was offered.”
“Yeah, and look where that got him.”
“Bad business fighting among ourselves,” Dmitry snapped, his voice low and guttural.
“Yo, man. I got better things to be doin' wit my time right now," XT complained. "You called this meet and greet old man, so what is it you want?"
“Gravestone is losing control, da?”
Both of the other kings nodded in agreement.
