by John Bowers
“Well...yes, I guess that’s true.”
“Which makes him directly responsible.”
The couple exchanged glances again, as if the discussion was spiraling out of their control. They both nodded, rather reluctantly.
“I guess so.”
“Okay. I have one more question, maybe two. Can I count on the two of you to testify in court?”
They looked shocked.
“Miss Cross, we agreed to talk to you,” Hawkins said, “but I don’t know that we can sit in a courtroom and tell the whole planet about this.”
Victoria leaned forward.
“Mr. Hawkins, from what you’ve told me, a beautiful young girl lost her life because of lies and slander, and Antiochus Groening, who as head of the church should have been looking for truth and justice, accepted the lies instead and ordered her killed. That is murder! Even worse, it’s a violation of the Sixth Commandment. Are you okay with that?”
“No! No, of course not, but—”
“If I call you to the witness stand, I expect you to tell the truth.”
She glanced at Godney.
“Actually, Mr. Godney will be trying the case, but he will expect the same thing.”
“Look, we’re already in trouble with the church because of what happened to our nephew. If we do this, we’ll be shunned for life.”
Consider yourself lucky, Victoria almost said.
“You did the right thing for your nephew,” she said instead. “You tried to save his life, and that was the right thing to do. Now you need to do the right thing again. It isn’t always easy to stand up for truth and justice, but I believe it’s the Christian thing to do. Don’t you?”
Once again, they exchanged uneasy glances. Finally they both nodded.
Victoria smiled.
“Thank you. One more question, if you don’t mind. What was the name of the woman who accused Leah of seducing her husband?”
Thomas Hawkins hesitated, then told her.
“Her name was Ruth Billings. She was married to Elder Billings.”
Chapter 12
Friday, February 5, 0444 (CC)
75th Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
Victoria kept in the loop on the Groening case, but with the Frie case breathing down her neck, she left it in Godney’s hands. He would spend Friday with his witnesses, prepping them for the stand, giving them tips how to deal with cross-examination. He had the three Downing women, Elder Keyser, and the Hawkins couple. He had already met with Nicodemus Downing, and would meet Marshal Nick Walker on Saturday. He also called in Carrie King, a Trimmer Springs cop who had been present at the quarry with Walker. Her testimony might add nothing to the facts, but would add weight to Walker’s testimony.
Meanwhile, Victoria buried herself in the Wallace Frie case.
The deeper she dug, the more concerned she became. The Federation had won a conviction over Frie in the smuggling trial, but Victoria was appalled at how many bases had been left uncovered. Witnesses who hadn’t been called, some not even interviewed; allegations that hadn’t been checked out; backgrounds that hadn’t been investigated—it seemed the prosecuting attorney had simply taken the arrest at face value and run with it without analysis of any kind. Victoria found this not only unprofessional, but very near scandalous. The trouble was…
The prosecuting attorney at the time had been the official U.F. Attorney and her previous boss, Anderson Gabel himself.
She drew up a list of questions for Gabel, but held them back. If Dillon brought her what she needed, she expected the list for Gabel to grow; Gabel wasn’t going to like her questions and it wasn’t a meeting she looked forward to. He had already questioned her decision to review the original case, the first time she could remember that they’d ever been in conflict. And Dillon, her trusty go-to guy, had done the same thing yesterday when she asked him to investigate.
Her gut was giving off signals she didn’t like.
She stopped working and sat at her desk for ten minutes, staring at her computer display. Her pulse gradually increased as thoughts she didn’t like swirled through her head. Abruptly, she got up and headed down the hall to Gary Fraites’ office.
Good. He was alone.
She tapped on his door and waited for him to wave her inside.
She liked Fraites, trusted him. He’d arrived a few months earlier to replace Gabel, whose health had dictated that he take a step back. Victoria had bonded with him almost at once.
Fraites glanced at her with surprise in his eyes.
“I haven’t seen that look before. What’s up?”
Victoria closed the door before she settled into a chair. She stared at him a moment without a word.
“I need to speak to you in confidence,” she said.
“Okay. Speak away.”
“I need to hire a private investigator.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“What’s wrong with Dillon?”
“Nothing. Maybe.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m looking into Wallace Frie’s original trial. Yesterday I gave Dillon a list of bullet points that I want checked out, and he gave me some flak.”
“Is that unusual?”
“Yes. I’ve worked with him for nearly three years and he’s never done that before.”
“What do you think it means?”
“Maybe nothing, but I need certain things investigated and I’m no longer confident that he’ll do a thorough job.”
Fraites narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.
“What are you saying, Vic?”
“I’m not saying anything yet. But this case has my flags snapping, and I don’t like it.”
“What are you talking about? What are your flags telling you?”
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t. But the last time this happened to me, I was pushing a case at the Polygon where a company commander in the Fed Infantry was standing a starcourt for dereliction of duty. Almost his entire command had been killed—”
“Here? In the revolution?”
“Yes, on Alpha 2. He had given orders to hold at all costs when facing a superior force and they were nearly wiped out. Only he and six others survived.”
“What happened? At the starcourt, I mean.”
“The evidence didn’t line up. I got the same feeling I have now, and I dug deeper. I found witnesses no one else had called or even identified. It turned out that the captain was taking the fall for his own commanding officer, who had ordered him to hold the position in the face of impossible odds.”
“How did it turn out?”
“I lost the case. The captain was acquitted.”
“Sounds like a win to me.”
“It was. Truth and justice won out, and I was on the wrong side.”
“I don’t like what you’re telling me, Vic.”
“Neither do I. But I won’t know what’s really going on without another investigator. I want someone who has no ties to the Federation legal community, who isn’t attached to somebody else’s string.”
“What will you tell Dillon?”
She shrugged.
“I can still feed him the small stuff, there’s always plenty of that.”
Fraites leaned back in his chair with a deep breath and swiveled to stare out the window for two or three minutes. Finally he looked back at her.
“How high are your flags?”
“Top of the mast, and they’re snapping. Briskly.”
“So you’re certain of this.”
“I’m not certain of anything. And I won’t be until the investigation is complete. I’m not accusing anybody and I’m not casting aspersions on anyone. I’m just asking for leeway to pursue the case far enough that I can figure out why it bothers me so much.”
“Do you have someone in mind? An investigator?”
“No one in particular. But it has to be a PI who has access to legal databases, financial transactions, things like that. Some
body who has been vetted but has no loyalties to anyone.”
Fraites stared at her another few seconds, then nodded.
“Vic, since I’ve known you, I’ve come to respect your ability and your instincts. Keep this between us, okay?”
She smiled. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Good. Then find yourself a private dick, but do it outside the office. Dillon doesn’t need to see you talking to another detective.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
“Okay. It’ll be our secret. Run with it.”
*
Back in her office, Victoria called in Nancy Swift. The gorgeous brunette appeared thirty seconds later.
“Close the door and take a seat.”
Nancy did as requested, sitting on the edge of the chair as if afraid she might be in trouble. Victoria gazed at her a moment, then managed a smile.
“How long have you worked here, Nancy?”
“Almost four years. I started as an office assistant, but I went to night school to become a paralegal.”
“So you’re pretty familiar with the players in the legal community?”
“I think so. Most of them, anyway.”
“Good. I need you to do something for me, but it has to remain absolutely confidential.”
“Okay…”
“No one knows about it except you, me, and Mr. Fraites, and it has to stay that way.”
“I understand.”
“I need a private investigator, someone with experience who can do some serious digging for me. It has to be someone who’s independent and not in anybody’s pocket.”
Victoria saw the question in Nancy’s eyes—“What’s wrong with James Dillon?”—but the girl didn’t ask.
“Do you know anyone like that?”
“Actually, I do.”
Nancy scribbled something on her notepad and ripped off the sheet. She handed it to Victoria.
“I ran into him a couple of years ago at UAC Lucaston when I was taking night classes. He was taking some criminology classes.”
“Can you vouch for him?”
“I think so. We dated a couple of times, and I came away with the impression that he’s one of the good guys. At the time, he had just got his PI license and was trying to build his clientele.”
“Have you spoken to him lately? Would he be available?”
“We get together for coffee every couple of months. It takes time to build a business like that, and I think he can use the work.”
Victoria stared at the name Nancy had given her. She nodded.
“Thanks, Nancy. Remember, mum’s the word, okay?”
The young brunette smiled.
“No problem, Miss Cross. I hope this works out for both of you.”
As soon as Nancy left, closing the door behind her, Victoria reached for her desk comm…
Then changed her mind. She was probably being paranoid, because this was most likely just a figment of her imagination, but…she used her pocket phone to make the call. The pocket phone wouldn’t be logged into any Federation database.
The call was voice only, and was answered after the first pulse.
“Hitlin Detective Agency, Douglas Hitlin speaking.”
“Mr. Hitlin, do you do background checks?”
“Absolutely.”
“How about skip traces?”
“You bet. I can do just about anything the cops can except arrest people. How can I help you?”
Victoria hesitated for only a second, then plunged.
“I would like a face-to-face. Are you free this morning?”
“I can probably shuffle a few things around. Where would you like to meet?”
“Are you familiar with a bar called the Semper Fi?”
“Across from the Federation Building? Sure.”
“Thirty minutes?”
“Uh…sure, okay. Actually, I’m across town, so it might take me forty-five.”
“That’ll work.”
“How will I know you?”
“I’ll be the hot blonde in a red dress.”
Hitlin laughed.
“In that case, I won’t charge for the estimate. I’m on my way.”
Victoria closed her phone with a smile. She glanced at her watch; it was barely ten o’clock, and she had time to make another couple of calls before heading out, but after a moment’s thought decided against it. Hitlin might get there sooner than expected, and she had no desire to miss him.
She stuffed some forms into her satchel, grabbed her purse, and headed for the lift.
The Semper Fi – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
The Semper Fi was busier than normal for the time of day. At least eight people were seated at various tables around the room, and a couple at the bar. None of them looked familiar.
Alvin Kopshevar grinned as Victoria entered by the side door. He rested an elbow on the bar and scanned her head to toe.
“Goddamn, Vic! You look hot today!”
She grinned.
“Are you kidding? I look hot every day.”
“That you do. What’ll you have? Little early for lunch, isn’t it?”
“It is, but I’m meeting somebody. Give me a ginger Kombucha.”
“Coming right up.”
He dug into a cooler and produced a chilled bottle. He set it before her.
“How’s the crime business?”
“Booming. Job security is good.”
Kopshevar laughed. Victoria slid a few terros across the bar.
“Keep the change.”
“Oh, thank you! Now I can eat tonight.”
“Oh, knock it off. Business isn’t that bad is it?”
“Naw, just fooling with you. Who’s this guy you’re meeting? Hot date?”
“Who said it was a guy?”
“Uh…nobody, I guess. I was just hoping.”
“Don’t try to be a matchmaker, Kopycat. This is strictly business. I don’t even know what the guy looks like.”
“So it is a guy!”
“He sounded like it on the phone.”
“Well, here’s hoping.”
She made a face at him, and they both laughed. They chatted about nothing for the next twenty minutes. Victoria finished her drink and handed the empty bottle back to him.
She glanced at her watch.
The front door swung open and a man stepped inside. Coming in from the sunlight, he blinked until his eyes acclimated, then fixed his gaze on Victoria, who was the only woman in the bar. She slipped off the barstool and turned to meet him.
“Are you the hot blonde?”
“In a red dress. Yes.”
They shook hands.
“Douglas Hitlin.”
“I figured. Come on, let’s get a booth. Do you want a drink?”
“Not during working hours, but thanks.”
Ignoring Kopshevar’s huge grin, she led the way to a small table in the back. Hitlin followed. They took seats facing each other and she gave him a once-over. Hitlin looked young, not much over twenty-five, but he was impressive. In place of a business suit, he wore slacks, a sport shirt, and tie. He stood just about six feet and obviously worked out, as evidenced by the biceps that strained against his shirt sleeves. His blond hair was medium length and, though he wasn’t handsome, he was far from ugly.
He sat watching as she evaluated him, a curious smile on his face.
“Before we begin,” Victoria said, “I have to know that everything we discuss, and any work you do, is confidential.”
Hitlin nodded.
“Of course. The only exception would be if someone such as a prosecuting attorney should subpoena my files for discovery.”
Victoria smiled.
“That shouldn’t be a problem. My name is Victoria Cross and I’m a U.F. Attorney.”
Hitlin leaned back in surprise. She saw questions in his eyes, but intercepted them before he could ask.
“I can’t tell you why, but I need some work done under the radar, an
d I need it fast. Everything falls under attorney work-product, which protects us both.”
“That works for me.”
She pulled a form out of her satchel and placed it before him.
“This is a standard contract from the U.F. Attorney’s office. We can negotiate the terms, but this spells out the rules of our relationship and protects your files from unauthorized looting.”
“Looting?”
“Subpoenas. Anyone who tries to raid your files has to go through my office.”
“Ah. Okay, good.”
He scanned the form for a moment, then nodded.
“Everything looks legit.”
“I should hope so.”
Victoria handed him a pen.
“Fill in your name and sign. I’ll shoot you a copy by the end of the day.”
Hitlin signed and returned the pen. Victoria put the form back into her satchel. Before she could continue, Hitlin produced his own form for her to sign.
“This is my contract, complete with fine print and legalese.”
Victoria scanned the contract quickly. It was boilerplate, standard for the industry. She looked at the fee.
“Two hundred an hour?”
“Plus expenses. Normally I ask for a retainer, but seeing who you are, I’ll waive it this time.”
She felt a twinge as she realized this was going to add up. Rather than paying ACBI for James Dillon’s time, she was going to pay a hell of a lot more at Hitlin’s rate. But she forced herself to relax—Fraites had given her the green light, and it would be his job to justify the expense.
She signed the contract and handed it back. Hitlin checked it and put it back into his shirt pocket. He clasped his hands on the table.
“Now that we have that out of the way, what can I do for you?”
With an eye to privacy, she checked to make sure no one was sitting nearby, then spoke in a low voice.
“Just to reiterate, this meeting is confidential. Nobody can know you’re working for me, and that includes not only private citizens, but also police, fire, and government agents of every variety. Are we clear on that?”
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘fire’?”
“That was a joke. A bad one, maybe.”
He grinned. “Okay. I tell no one.”
“Good. Have you heard of Wallace Frie?”
“Yes. His name popped up last week for killing an ACBI agent.”
