Coren sipped his coffee. "And Damik?"
"Damik is a little less problematic. He was definitely receiving bribes. Most of them were coming through Wenithal. Nothing large by some standards, a lot of gray market material-adjusted tariff stamps, relabelled goods, that kind of stuff. But he was also plugged into the baley network. One of them, anyway."
"Which one?"
Capel shook his head. "Does it matter? As it turns out, the one being run by Imbitek under Alda Mikels. Oh, yes, we knew about it, but we could never get enough evidence for warrants. Besides, baley-running is generally considered a victimless crime. These people want to leave, who are we to say no? The laws are more symbolic than anything. What's relevant here is that ten months ago Wenithal cut Damik off. Within a month, Damik had found other sources of income, and was finding more, but it hadn't yet equaled what he'd been getting from Wenithal."
"I saw reported payments in Wenithal's records to Damik up till a few weeks ago. "
"Really. Where did you see those?"
Coren cleared his throat. "Something Wenithal left lying open on his desk."
Capel smiled wryly. "In any case, there had apparently been a falling out between them. Maybe Wenithal had started paying him again, but we know he had stopped payments for several months. "
"How do you know they were bribes?"
"Because of the source of Wenithal's funds."
"May I guess? Either the Hunter Group or Kysler Diversified. "
"No. Imbitek. Or was. This new guy, Towne, has been trying to clean the company up, shutting down a lot of its illicit ventures. But under Mikels they'd been buying from Wenithal for years, except they paid him five times market value for what he supplied them. Half that money ended up going directly to Damik."
"Imbitek…"
"Something else, though." Capel took a folder off the table beside him and handed it to Coren. "Look at this and tell me what you think."
Coren pulled an image out of the folder. It showed a naked female body, horribly bruised from face to shins. "Same kind of lividity as Damik."
"That's my thought. I did a records search for similar cases. That one was the closest match. "
"Who was she?"
"We don't know. No ID. Found her in Lyzig District six days ago." Capel retrieved the print and returned it to the folder. "You were in Lyzig not long ago yourself, weren't you?"
"Yes."
"Maybe a coincidence. I hoped maybe you could identify her."
"Run a match for 'Jeta Fromm: She was a data troll."
Capel blinked, then pressed the button again. An officer appeared, and Capel told her to run a check on that ID.
"If it comes up positive," Coren asked, "does that make me a suspect?"
"If I thought that, you'd be in custody. No, but you're close to this. Closer than I am, anyway."
"That's your feeling?"
"That's my feeling." Capel finished his coffee and set the cup down. "If you could talk to anyone you wanted to right now, who would it be?"
Coren thought for a moment. "Alda Mikels."
"He gets released tomorrow morning. We have till then to interview him."
"Privately?" Coren asked with emphasis.
"Very. Interested?"
"Very." Coren stood. "Why?"
Capel raised his eyebrows. "You mean, why am I letting you into this? Very simple. Some of the people who were around when Wenithal closed his last case are still around, only in even higher positions than they were then. If this goes where I think it will, I may need someone outside the department. "
"Do you trust me?"
"I looked at your record." Capel pressed the button to be let out. "Shall we?" Marland Reformatory and Social Reclamation Center occupied a huge area north of D.C. Capel took Coren through the security passage that linked directly to police headquarters, a ten-minute ride in a car designed to carry prisoners behind a transparent security shield that separated them from their guards.
Coren waited while Capel arranged an interview room. Silently, the two men followed a uniformed escort up four levels and down a long hall. The interview room was comfortable, with plush chairs all around and a writing desk. Coren was surprised to find it open, with no indication of any security wall to keep prisoners from interviewers.
Capel noticed his reaction. "We have no surveillance, either."
Coren took his hemisphere from his pocket. "What happens if I switch this on?"
"Nothing. You don't trust me?"
"You, yes. " Coren thumbed the field damper on and returned it to his pocket.
Capel nodded and took a seat.
"How much freedom do I get?" Coren asked.
"Don't abuse your welcome, " Capel said. "Keep it within reason. "
A few minutes later, the opposite door slid open and Alda Mikels stepped through.
He had lost weight, Coren saw, and his thick mane of white hair seemed thinner. The lines in his face sank deeper and his skin looked slightly waxen.
"Mr. Mikels," Capel said. "I appreciate you taking the time to see us. Please, sit. "
Alda Mikels frowned at Coren as he eased himself into a chair. "You're welcome, I'm sure, Inspector. Do I know you?"
"I'm Inspector Capel, Homicide Division. This is Coren Lanra, head of security for-"
"For Rega Looms. Yes, I thought you looked familiar. Is there a reason for this visit, or just a last chance to see me in prison?"
"We have a few questions we thought you might help us with, " Capel said.
Mikels focussed on Capel. "Homicide? I haven't killed anyone. Not in here, at least."
"That remains to be seen, " Capel said. "Do you know Ree Wenithal?"
"Should I?"
"You've been overpaying him for textiles for years," Capel said. "From the amounts, we thought perhaps you had a personal relationship with him. "
"A good supplier, then?" Mikels said, shrugging. "I don't remember. "
"Odd. He remembers you," Coren said. "Even kept a special log of all your transactions."
"Really?"
"He was cut off by your successor," Capel said.
"I wouldn't know anything about it. What Towne is doing to my company…well, I'll find out all about it soon enough."
"You're being modest," Coren said. "I think you know all about it now."
"And why would that be?"
"You're waging a war for control of your company. I'm impressed with your resources-it must be very difficult to conduct business from a cell. But it's not a very precise way to do it. Some people have died as a result. According to Tresha, the orders went through Wenithal, along with his monthly stipend from Imbitek…until Towne took over and started cutting up your empire."
Mikels glowered. "This is all supposition, of course."
Coren said nothing. Mikels blinked and looked at Capel.
"Is it standard procedure for the police to allow private security to harass wards of the state?"
"Coren," Capel said, "you're just supposed to observe."
Coren nodded, but continued to stare at Mikels. He felt anxious, which was a problem-an interview like this needed a finesse he did not feel willing to accord. He realized then that he had decided to blame Mikels for Nyom's death-it was his war, after all, that had gotten her killed.
"Now, Mr. Mikels," Capel said, "we know you're a busy man. We won't keep you very long. But I wondered if you could explain those payments to Mr. Wenithal. The amounts were quite generous. It seems fiscally irresponsible-at least to me-that you'd pay him those amounts when you could easily have switched vendors and saved yourself all that extra expenditure. Unless he was blackmailing you, that is. Was he?"
Mikels laughed. "You're more imaginative than most of your colleagues, Inspector Capel."
"Then he was working for you in other capacities?"
Mikels stood. "I don't have to talk to you."
"I think it would be a good idea, though," Coren said. He took a couple of steps toward Mikels. "You ha
ve a problem, and it could be very dangerous. "
Mikels laughed. "Are you threatening me, Mr. Lanra?"
Coren smiled with mock innocence. "Me? Not at all. I'm trying to help you. "
Mikels glanced toward the detective. "Inspector Capel-"
"Sit down, Lanra," Capel said tersely.
Coren looked at Capel. He saw nothing but a warning in the inspector's eyes, and the expectation of obedience. Coren gave Mikels a long look before he grudgingly returned to his chair.
"It seems, Mr. Mikels," Capel said, "that your replacement at Imbitek may have gotten himself into some legal problems. Certain clandestine operations have surfaced and you could help us clear them up. I just thought we could help each other."
"Towne?" Mikels sounded incredulous, but he sat down. "What do you have?"
"It seems he's been running baleys. Some of them have gotten killed. We think reprisals have been made and will continue to be made. "
"Baleys." Mikels looked from Coren to Capel. "You're here about baleys?"
"Anything you might have that could help us…" Capel said, obviously trying to lead him.
"Is this off the record?"
"We don't have anything official pending in your case. We're hoping you'll help as a good citizen."
Mikels pursed his lips and folded his hands in his lap. "Well, it isn't my desire to see Towne hurt."
"Could you vouch or him, then-substantiate his innocence?"
Mikels smiled. "I don't think so." He sighed wearily. "I knew this would hurt the company in the long run. There has always been a faction at Imbitek involved in extra-legal matters. I shut down three divisions during my chairmanship that dealt in contraband. But Imbitek is large, and favors are passed in a variety of ways. It's difficult to keep track of everyone and everything. Towne…well, he's been tangled up with the Settler Coalition for a long time. If he's running baleys, I'm not surprised."
"Wenithal?" Coren prompted.
"I was not aware we were still doing business with him. Those three divisions I mentioned all used him to fix Customs. Wenithal had an associate in ITE-an adopted son, I think-through whom he got special considerations. When I shut them down, I thought I'd cut him off."
"The payments?" Capel asked.
"Wenithal owns a textiles manufacturing firm. It would be safest to mask the payments as business-as-usual."
"You said you didn't know him," Coren said.
Mikels glared at him. "Do I look like an idiot, Mr. Lanra? I don't know him personally, but in this connection I remember the name. "
Capel pointedly frowned at Coren.
Coren ignored him and pressed on. "And the association. Is there any reason you could think of that Towne would have either of them killed?"
"Not unless they were about to turn against him."
"Might they?"
Mikels shrugged. "I can't see that Wenithal would gain anything, but Damik might. After all, he would have the most to lose in any kind of official inquiry."
"So you knew Brun Damik, too?" Capel asked.
"I didn't say that-"
"Were Damik and Wenithal about to go freelance? Or was it just Damik who thought he could set up his own operation from your leftovers? Is that why you had him killed?"
Mikels laughed. "I'm a businessman, Inspector. I don't have people killed. I have no idea who murdered Damik. "
"So you did know he was dead?" Coren asked.
Mikels started to stand again. "I think our talk is over, gentlemen-"
Coren took the folder Capel had brought with him. Before the inspector could stop him, he walked quickly up to Mikels, slid the picture out, and held it before the industrialist. Mikels stared at it for a long time.
"Do you know her?" Coren asked.
"No." Mikels looked worried now.
"Have you ever seen a body look like that? I've seen a few recently. Something-or someone-crushed them. Must be an incredibly painful way to die."
"What does this have to do with me?"
"Whoever did this can slip in and out of secured areas undetected. Some kind of military-grade masking tech. I even know of one victim who was in jail, and no records exist of her death. None."
Mikel's eyes flicked to Capel.
"Why don't you sit down again, Mr. Mikels," the inspector said.
Mikels sank back to the chair.
Coren turned to Capel. "Here's what I think. I think Mr. Mikels has been paying his way through Customs by way of Wenithal and Brun Damik. I think Myler Towne found out about it when he took over and started straightening Imbitek out." He turned back to Mikels. "I think you did a quick estimate of how much this was going to cost you in future revenue and decided to oust Towne. It's backfiring, though, and he's more popular now than ten months ago, when he took over. So you've been cleaning up all the loose ends that could tie you up in litigation and further prison time if they come to light. You 're shutting down the baleys before he does, and you're doing it so that it looks like it was his fault, because, after all, Imbitek is the one in charge of them, isn't it? And you're in jail, so how could you be doing any of it?"
"You have no proof," Mikels said haltingly.
"Oh, but it gets better. When it looked like there was no way you could win a shareholder vote, you arranged to take over part of Imbitek, the part most profitable off Earth. You used the same people you used to funnel baleys all these years to fund the purchase of Captras Biomed. Towne tried to block the sale when he found out who was behind the purchase, but he couldn't. To cap it off, you tried to kill him. Leave Imbitek headless and, after you get out of prison, leave the planet. Imbitek falters, you use Captras as a plat form through which to buy it out, and you end up owning it outright." Coren grinned wolfishly. "Stock transactions leave a pretty good trail for those who can read it. "
Mikels grunted. "You have an excellent imagination. Why should any of this cause me to help you?"
"Because I think you may become a loose end yourself. All this is going on and the profits are rolling and you're still in jail. Someone is going to be thinking pretty soon that you're superfluous. "
"Why would they think that?"
"Because it just might occur to them that they already have Captras Biomed. What do they need you for? To run it? At this point, you're waging a private war, against Myler Towne, to hurt a company that your backers no longer want. This isn't good for profits."
Now Mikels reacted nervously.
"The only thing that bothers me," Coren continued, "that I don't understand, is where all the baleys are going and what Nova Levis has to do with any of this?"
"What does Rega want to know this for?" Mikels demanded.
"Why do you think?"
Mikels shook his head. "I don't know. He's been out of it for years. Why now?"
"Maybe," Coren said slowly, taking a gamble, "it's a family matter."
Mikels grew still. Only the sound of breathing filled the room. When he did not answer, Coren leaned close to his ear.
"This isn't Rega," Coren said. "This is me. I want to know." He leaned closer still and whispered. "Your little vendetta killed a friend of mine. A good friend. This is personal for me."
"Just because you and Damik served together-"
Coren straightened. "Not Damik! But if you know that, then you know the rest. You killed Nyom Looms, you fuck. " He snarled. "I'm sure you know about Nyom and me. She's dead."
"Lanra!" Capel bellowed. "Back off-now!"
Mikel's eyes widened. "I see. That's unfortunate, Ms. Looms' death, but…"
"Cyborgs," Coren said flatly.
Mikels started. "What?"
"Cyborgs. What do you know about them?"
Mikels wiped a hand over his mouth. "May I give you some advice, Mr. Lanra? You should let this go now. You won't help Nyom Looms anymore. All you could do would be to put yourself, your friends, and your family in danger."
"Not really a problem. I don't have any friends and I'm an orphan. Just like Damik."
/> Mikels sighed and shook his head. "I don't have to talk to you. But Wenithal knows everything. You can ask him. I've never been directly involved. "
"Is that why you've gone to all the trouble to buy Nova Levis?"
Capel grasped Coren's arm. Coren shrugged him off.
Mikels looked startled, then laughed. He stood, then. "My, but you are impressive. If I thought you'd accept it, I'd offer you a job." He walked toward the door. "If you know that much, then you know the rest. You figure it out."
"Why infants?"
Mikels stopped. "Excuse me?"
"The thing I can't figure out-why infants?"
Mikels shook his head. "This interview is over."
Mikels rang the bell for release. A few moments later, the guard took him away, leaving Coren and Capel alone.
"Damn," Coren hissed.
"What do you want to do now?" Capel asked sarcastically. "Is there anyone else you want to roust tonight before I get the full story?"
"I don't know." Coren stared at the door, then looked at Capel. "Don't wait for an apology. "
"I won't. I just wish I understood what just happened here." He pressed a hand against Coren's chest. "You can explain it to me, can't you?"
"Maybe. Where do you want me to start?"
"First things first," Capel said. "Given Mikel's reaction to it-what's a cyborg?"
Coren flashed a half-smile. "Well, as I understand it…"
Twenty-Five
The corpse on the table smelled cloyingly sweet. Baxin, Sipha Palen's pathologist, directed a squad of devices while speaking aloud his findings for the recorders.
"-lungs are permeated by clusters of nodes which seem to function as storage systems for long-term oxygenation. Secondary vascular system routed through what appears to be a secondary spleen suggests waste gas disposal follows complimentary pathways for storage in…what the hell is that?"
He fidgeted nervously and glanced at Derec and Palen, who watched from the other side of the isolation screen. Baxin was perspiring slightly. His fingers worked a keypad, and the small scavengers moved on and through the body of the cyborg.
Chimera (isaac asimov's robot mystery) Page 32
