by Robin Craig
Holy Gods of Asgard, Miriam thought, leaning back in her chair. We are so screwed.
Chapter 37 – Misdirection
Miriam called up her earlier diagram of the possibilities and stared at it. Misdirection, misdirection, misdirection, she realized, the whole thing is an exercise in misdirection. Jewelry thefts to mask the real purpose of the break-in: gaining control of the AI. Videos that purport to be one thing and are another, with yet another misdirection buried inside to mislead anyone persistent or curious enough to look below the surface.
She thought more on it, rolling the ideas around in her head. Yes. Even with the thief’s skill and technology, it would be difficult to break in without a trace, impossible to be sure she had left no trace. But the reason the thing you’re looking for is always in the last place you look is you stop looking. So the thief had left an obvious motive in plain view: a theft large enough to explain the break-in but not enough to excite a really serious investigation. A nuisance, a small insurance claim, something soon forgotten. And meanwhile, the victim’s AI was there in the background, silently working against its owner under his nose. Even destroying any evidence it had collected itself. Miriam stared at the audacity of it all. If her own AI hadn’t seen the tenuous link between the thefts all those months ago, she wondered if they would ever have discovered it before it was too late. Perhaps it was already too late.
But why? What was behind it all? There was the link to the President’s supporters, but that could be a coincidence. After all, the victims were all wealthy, and rich people surely had many things in common; sucking up to politicians wasn’t an unlikely one.
The image of a blur of molecules and cells whirling around under the command of a shadowy Dr Tagarin rose again in her mind. What other dances are you conducting, doctor, and to what end? She was sure he was behind it. Then she stopped. Was she? Why? Question everything, Miriam. Question everything.
She ran over the evidence in her mind. Tagarin was her prime suspect only if Katlyn was a geneh – but was she? Perhaps that too was misdirection. As Tagarin had pointed out, she had flaunted her fatal biology – then left the prime witness not only alive but also guaranteed to be hostile toward her. Then, unaccountably, saved her life: or was it the case she wanted to save, to keep it alive now it had been pointed in the wrong direction? And while Miriam had gotten uncomfortably close and personal with Katlyn, how could she be sure that her impressions were real, not merely an illusion she was led to believe? All she had left was a coincidence in phrases the two had used. But Tagarin was a public figure, public enough that his quirks could easily be discovered by someone with the motivation to do so. If someone wanted the police chasing a literal chimera up blind alleys, what better way to encourage belief in a geneh than by implicating Tagarin?
She put her head in her hands. But if not Tagarin, then who? It had to be someone with resources. Organized crime seemed unlikely: given the nature of such groups, surely they would have done far more damage by now. They were not known for either patience or subtlety. Miriam rubbed her temples. That was the other thing. Even the larger thefts weren’t big enough crimes. It didn’t make sense that they were the full motive, but they also didn’t make sense as misdirection. There had to be something else behind it all, some scheme that she couldn’t yet guess at. A government agency might have big shadowy plans and would certainly have the money and access to the technology: was this some rogue agency gone beyond its remit? Or one of Tagarin’s other suggestions, an expensively modified agent gone rogue herself and now hunted in secret?
Then another thought struck her into stillness. She turned it over in her mind like a hot potato. It had a shocking but deadly simplicity to it. She rang Stone. “Jack, when you told me that Tagarin’s geneh baby had been shot by GenInt – did you actually see it happen?”
“Good evening to you too, Miriam. Yes, I am having a lovely dinner, thank you for asking.” He paused, but she said nothing. He could almost see that look in her eyes she got when her brain was off chasing an idea, and he knew she was blind and deaf to anything unrelated to her quarry. He’d had a puppy like that once, and he smiled despite his annoyance at her timing.
“Well... not ‘saw’ as such. But they carted it off in a hurry and a minute later there were several shots. GenInt goons aren’t the types to fire their guns into the air in a fit of exuberance. We all figured they didn’t want us to actually witness the execution – more deniability if it ever came to that.” He stopped for a moment. “I don’t think I like where this might be heading.” Then he added slowly, “Maybe you’d better slow down and decide if you really need to go there. Give your brain a break and go get some dinner yourself.”
“Yes… yes… maybe I’m going stir crazy. I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow. I have some more thinking to do first. And I have a headache already. Goodnight, Jack.”
She hung up and groaned. It was impossible, yet terrifyingly possible. What if GenInt hadn’t shot that baby? It could explain everything. No impossible age problem, no need for improbable research in the years since the bans.
Perhaps GenInt itself had adopted the child, the first and last geneh born: either to study it or use its powers for their own ends. It wouldn’t be the first time a government agency couldn’t resist using something it deemed too dangerous to allow anyone else to have. If so, was she still working for them on some clandestine mission, or had she escaped to work on her own agenda?
Or had the baby been meant to die, but instead been freed by its executioner in an unexpected fit of mercy: the man’s humanity asserting itself when faced with actually pulling the trigger on an infant? Had she then become what Tagarin had suggested: a feral creature, surviving on her speed and wits in the cracks and shadows of a world bent on her destruction?
Her mind paused again. If that was it, Tagarin must have known what Katlyn was the moment he had seen the photo, or at least suspected it. But there was no way he would ever admit it to her.
Miriam shook her head. Too many possibilities, each plausible in its own way, each implausible in others. Whoever was behind this had woven a tapestry of deception so tangled it was impossible to be sure what was true and what was illusion, what were clues and what were misdirection. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, for the first time Miriam began to think that her unknown opponents were out of her class; that perhaps this case was beyond her ability to solve.
Chapter 38 – Games
Miriam had gone home, determined to sleep on the problem and hope that a rest and some subconscious chewing would give her a new perspective.
She had a quiet dinner with Amaro watching an old movie, but she couldn’t really get into the plot. They had gone to bed, but despite her desire she couldn’t get into the plot planned by Amaro either. She had sighed, rolled over and immediately fallen into a fitful sleep haunted by dreams of chasing a person she could never quite see through a mirror maze, both seeking an exit neither could find. When she woke she was little rested and no closer to a solution. Amaro looked at her but made no comment and asked no questions. He knew there would be no answers.
Now she sat in Ramos’ office with Stone leaning against the desk, waiting to hear what Ramos would say.
“So, you’re telling me that our thief has been taking over people’s AIs and using them to steal money and God knows what else? And that because of this, you’re no longer sure we’re dealing with a geneh, the whole link to Tagarin might be spurious, and even if it is a geneh it could be GenInt itself behind it? Is that about it?”
Miriam nodded dumbly. Ramos looked like he’d bitten an apple with a grub in it. “Are you sure there aren’t some other possibilities you’ve left off the list?”
“I’m not sure of anything at the moment.”
He glared at her a minute then asked, “What do you think, Jack?”
Stone looked from one to the other. “Unlikely as you’d think it is, it does look like the AIs have been compromised. But that doesn’t lead us a
nywhere except to doubt every clue we have. I think we’re going back to our desk jobs.”
Ramos nodded. “That’s about how I see it too. We’ll escalate the AI aspect to Computer Crimes. They can consult with your Dr Neubold and see if they can find out how our criminals got their hands on his technology without anybody knowing, and how they can stop more mischief being done with it. That’s really their job, not ours. Not our case now.”
Miriam nodded and stood to go. “Yes, OK. I’m out of ideas myself.”
“Don’t look so dejected. None of this is your fault. And I don’t want you to give up quite yet. No more active investigation is warranted. Or wise. But have your AI keep whatever it uses as a nose to the ground. Make sure it reports anything that might tie in. Computer Crimes will be doing their thing, but it won’t hurt to keep our other options open as well.”
As they went to open the door to leave he added, “Wait. This possible GenInt link worries me. We did hope they wouldn’t notice or care about our vague report on a strange thief, but still – it’s a bit odd that they never even asked one question. But if they were complicit – maybe we’re both playing the same game, each acting as if it isn’t worthy of attention, each hoping the other one won’t place any importance on it.”
They both waited, Stone nodding slowly as he thought about it.
“So I don’t want you to write up this theory about the geneh baby and GenInt, or even mention it outside this office. The one thing I’m sure of is that we’re not going to be able to question GenInt: and we don’t want to anyway. If they’re behind it, it might be dangerous to poke a stick in their nest whether we’re dealing with an official agent or a rogue one. And we have no need to tell them anything at this stage. We sent them that memo about it but didn’t say it was a geneh, and now we have even less reason to believe that it is.”
Miriam looked at him glumly, trying to generate some optimism about the way forward but not succeeding. Stone glanced at her and shrugged, as if reading her mind and agreeing with her assessment.
“Besides,” Ramos added, “I don’t want to give anyone a ready-made reason to raise doubts about Tagarin’s involvement. We want a clear run at him if we do find more evidence that our thief is a geneh, if only so we can remove him from our list of suspects if he’s innocent. It would be nice to remove anyone from our list.”
Chapter 39 – Tang
Miriam put her coffee down then noticed the half eaten cinnamon donut. She picked it up, bit off half and chewed thoughtfully as she watched the polychrome dance of diagnostics on her screen. She washed the crumbs down with some more coffee then noticed the quarter donut on her desk. Zeno’s Paradox of Donuts, she thought idly to herself: if I keep biting off half of what’s left, will I ever finish it?
She smiled at her thoughts and the repetitive tasks that had spawned them. My life is so exciting at the moment, she thought. The AI was behaving itself for once, but while it was finding correlations that were worth passing on none of them were very thrilling. Her thief had gone quiet. At least, nothing relating to the case had caught the attention of her AI in the weeks since the meeting in Ramos’ office. Hopefully that meant Katlyn had gone to ground, not merely become even better at her job. On the other hand, Miriam hadn’t been beaten up or nearly died recently. There was something to be said for dullness.
She had heard nothing about the Computer Crimes investigation either. That was not surprising when a secret government software project was involved. No doubt Computer Crimes would dearly love to get their paws on one of the affected AIs, but she couldn’t imagine any of the owners being willing to let them. She wondered how many judges would think “Kilroy was here” was grounds for a warrant with that big a privacy issue. Good luck with that, she thought to the unknown investigators; I can’t get a warrant for something much more solid.
Her phone rang.
“Hello? Detective Hunter speaking.”
“Good morning Detective. This is Kevan Tang. You rang me some time ago about a minor burglary in my apartment, and I fear I was quite rude to you about it. I have had a change of heart. Would you be so kind as to visit me to discuss the matter further? Not at my apartment in the city though: I would prefer you meet me at my home in the hills.”
“Why, certainly Mr Tang. Thank you so much for calling me back. Let me check our schedules... How about 2 pm tomorrow?”
“That would be fine. I will see you then. Good day.”
Miriam checked the records. Yes, Kevan Tang. One of the victims who had reported a minor jewelry theft, nothing more. One of those who had acted like a suspect rather than a victim when she had approached him. He surely would not bother having a change of heart over a few gems.
This should be interesting.
~~~
Miriam and Jack drove up a road weaving its way into the high-priced hills beyond the city. “Welcome to millionaires’ row,” commented Stone, as they drove past yet another secured entrance to yet another secluded home. “I’m thinking of retiring here, what about you?”
“Sure. When we solve this case our bonus ought to cover it. Ah. Here we are.”
They drove up to the entrance; the guard was expecting them and let them through. They got out and looked up marble steps to an entrance guarded by imposing Corinthian columns. “Well, Mr Tang has a taste for the grand, doesn’t he?” commented Stone. “Let’s see if he has some grand leads to go with it.”
They were ushered into Mr Tang’s presence. He looked like a large-framed man whose muscles were deserting his bones; he sat behind a desk and seemed sharp and alert, but with an undercurrent as of fatigue held temporarily in check by a grim force of will. He waved them to seats.
“Thank you for coming, officers. I am afraid that for all my wealth and for all our fine medical technology, the Grim Reaper has me marked on his calendar. I suppose one cannot resist the will of the Lord when he calls you to him. That is why I have decided to talk to you. I have done many bad things in my life. In particular, I have done one very cowardly thing. I am not sure that I can make amends but I will try. Perhaps it will work in my favor on the day of Judgment.” He looked at them sadly, as if at the merciless surrogates of that final Judge.
“Please go on,” prompted Miriam.
“I would ask one favor. In the course of our interview I may divulge things that are perhaps not, shall we say, strictly legal. I would like to speak under immunity from prosecution so that I may speak freely. I think it would be worth your while.”
“We can’t guarantee anything until we hear what you say,” answered Jack. “We can promise to recommend leniency for your volunteering the information, but that’s all we have the authority to do.” He looked at Miriam. “But anything not directly useful to our case won’t make it into a report.”
Tang sighed. “Oh well, that will have to do. Honestly, if you did decide to prosecute I doubt it would come to trial in the time left to me on this Earth. I would just like my final days to be peaceful, not caught up in unpleasant legal entanglements. I suppose I shall have to leave that too in the Lord’s hands.”
He hesitated as if drawing on his resolve to continue; to Miriam he looked like a fading pit bull terrier steeling himself to admit, Yes, I did eat your cat.
“Well. As you know, a while back a few baubles were stolen from my apartment. What you do not know is that a few weeks after that some criminal gang sent me an untraceable message through my AI. Somehow they had discovered the contents of a safety deposit box I held, and they were demanding that I release those contents to them. They were extremely well informed. If I did not give them what they wanted, they would not only empty my bank accounts, they would reveal certain other information on my activities to people who would not be pleased to discover it. I am not a man who takes kindly to threats, and I admit I was less than submissive in my response. Such is the sin of hubris, I fear: for they chose to demonstrate their power by emptying a fifth of my funds, equally from each of my bank accounts – I su
ppose to show they could have taken it all. This was accompanied by another message to await further instructions.”
Miriam asked, “You said ‘untraceable’? You did not report this to the police. What steps did you take to trace these messages and to find out where your money had gone?”
“Oh, I have extensive resources, believe me, and I am not an amateur in these areas. But it is mystifying to me. My AI was good to start with and has been modified with all kinds of, shall we say, relevant software tools. But there was no trail, not even to a dead end. No trail at all. That should have been impossible. Whoever these people are, they are out of my class. I saw no alternative. I gave in. Of course I attempted to put a trace on the goods, but that too failed.”
He spread his hands. “It failed because they knew. They were not happy with me. To punish me for my obstinacy and temerity, in their words, they took another quarter of my funds and released one piece of their blackmail. That is why I am now divorced from my wife of many years.” He spread his hands. “Perhaps they were merely the Lord’s tools in my humbling, as the Assyrians were to the Israelites. But I am talking to you in the hope that the Lord will punish them, just as he punished the Assyrians in their time.”
“So what was in the safety deposit box? What was so important?” asked Miriam.
He sighed resignedly. “I suppose it can’t cause any more harm if you know in general outline what these people now know in detail. Though they don’t appear to have used their knowledge yet, so their true purpose remains a mystery to me. I have betrayed a great person, as well as my own principles, in order to cling to comforts which time has showed to be more ephemeral than I could imagine. I am ashamed, officers, ashamed.”
