Criminal Minds (Fox Meridian Book 4)

by Niall Teasdale

Fox felt her heart drop into her guts. Ice filled her veins and a thousand tiny claws pricked her scalp. Her throat dried up and she knew she stiffened because he said, ‘Fox?’ and there was concern in his voice. She pulled away from him, backed up against the far wall of the corridor, and held up her hands to keep him back.

  ‘Just… Just give me a minute. Give me… a minute, just a minute.’

  ‘Fox, what’s wrong? Did I say something–’

  ‘It’s not you,’ she said quickly. ‘Give me a minute.’

  He nodded and backed into the bathroom. Fox kept a robe hanging on the door and he took it, holding it out at arm’s length for her. His face was neutral. She knew he was doing his best to keep it that way: she could see the strain, what it was costing him to give her room, to keep what she suspected might be pity but knew was concern off his face. She pulled on the robe. It was short and she wished it was longer, and at the same time did not. Jason had done nothing wrong, would not do anything wrong, and she was safe with him. She was safe…

  ‘C-could you go downstairs? Sam has whiskey a-and I could use one. I’ll be in the lounge.’

  Jason nodded once and turned for the back of the house where the stairs were. When he returned holding a bottle and two glasses, Fox was curled up on the sofa, holding a cushion in her lap like a life preserver.

  ‘Sit beside me,’ Fox said. Her voice was calm now, but she waited until he had taken a seat, poured her a glass of whiskey, which she downed immediately, and then poured another before she went on. ‘There was a man. Josh Sandoval.’

  ‘The cop you shot in self-defence. There were reports and I read them.’

  Fox nodded. ‘I’d expect you to check up on me. What’s not in the report is that he was NIX and we had sex a couple of times. We were up at a resort on that UA case. Wolfeboro, high-end place. MarTech has a suite there for corporate retreats and such. Terri said we could use it since we were late finishing up there. Sandoval cooked and then… It just happened. I was hot. I went for a swim, naked, and he was watching me when I got out. I wanted him to…’ She shook her head. ‘It just wasn’t like me. It was wild. Insane. We went at it like… like dogs. I figured it was just stress relief. The case was tough, people were dying, there was nothing I could do until the morning…’

  She flicked a glance at him and saw something, some sort of recognition. Jason thought he knew where the story was going, but he was letting her tell it. ‘I figured it was a one-off, but then he came to my apartment one evening. I cooked and then… I threw myself at him. I wanted him so bad it almost hurt. When I woke up, I was hyper, distracted, couldn’t remember exactly what had happened. Kit didn’t think it was right and she took the wine glasses, got them sent to Jackson for analysis.’

  ‘There is a drug which leaked onto the streets a few years back. They call it Cupie.’

  ‘Jackson explained. A dopamine agonist combined with a CB-one agonist. It hypes the libido, and inhibits inhibitions, critical thinking, and long-term memory function. Side effects include increased body temperature. He doped the food the first time. We were both on it. He knew he was going to kill me after the second dose and he wanted me suffering the after effects, so he dosed my wine. Hyperactivity, mood swings, memory loss… Everything you don’t need in a gun fight. Jackson was able to counter them.’

  ‘And you shot him when he came for you.’

  ‘I did.’ She paused. ‘The first time, when he came to me after the swim. I stopped in the doorway and he came up behind me. He said… He said…’

  ‘Here or in the bedroom?’

  ‘A-and I got down on my… my knees…’ Fox could feel herself folding again and pulled in a deep breath to steady herself.

  ‘I am so sorry, Fox.’

  She reached out, cupping his cheek. ‘You have nothing to apologise for. And he paid with his life for r- For what he did. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.’

  Jason gave a slow nod. ‘I can leave or stay. If you’d prefer to be alone, I’d understand.’

  ‘No, I want you to stay. I want to have another drink and I want you to make love to me. Make love. It’s something Sandoval never did.’

  20th August.

  Walking was a little difficult. Nothing too bad, but Marie was still feeling a little uncomfortable when she was summoned to Sister Naomi’s rooms. Naomi presumably knew the class schedule and smiled when Marie walked in.

  ‘The discomfort passes quickly enough and you do get used to it, should you wish to entertain in that manner in the future,’ Naomi said.

  ‘I can’t imagine why anyone would, though I hear some men like it.’

  ‘Men imagine women do. Some actually do, but it’s like any other form of sexual activity: it depends upon your tastes. Sit, the chairs are quite comfortable.’

  Marie took a seat, thankful of the padding.

  ‘So, your time here is almost over,’ Naomi said.

  ‘I guess. I’m staying tonight, right?’

  ‘Your choice. We’ll be happy to have you. I’ve asked your instructors and they were all pleased with you.’

  ‘Well, I was trying to “live the role,” I guess. There was no point in being here if I didn’t get a feel for what it’s like to be a Sister.’

  ‘And do you think you have?’

  Marie nodded. ‘There’s the classes and the sex, of course, which is what most people think is what happens here. But there’s the sense of duty to the profession, and the friendship everyone seems to have. It’s serious and fun at the same time. I talked to a few of the licensed Sisters, about the job. Sister Demeter arranged for me to sit in the control room and watch some of the brothel feeds. It’s not always glamorous and it’s not always wonderful sex. I knew that from Sam before I came here, but I know more now. I know some of them only get through the day-to-day because they have their friends to help them through it. I can’t imagine what it was like before legalisation.’

  ‘I can,’ Naomi said. ‘My mother was a prostitute before it was legalised.’

  ‘I know. It came up.’

  ‘It was hard for her, but it never turned her hard which it did to some. Now, as then, it depends entirely on the woman, or man, turning tricks. Look at Sam. He’s been doing this for over a decade and he’s never lost what was essentially him.’ She frowned. ‘No, I lie. For a time, he was a little lost. He’s always been compassionate, caring, generous with his forgiveness, and as smooth as anyone I’ve ever met, of course. But he lost the capacity to enjoy the relationship between two people who care for one another.’ Naomi pointed at Marie. ‘You gave that back to him.’

  Marie shook her head. ‘No. Okay, maybe a little, but it was Fox. Fox gave me up when Sam decided he might want something more from me. It hurt her to do it, but she did anyway, because he’s her friend.’

  ‘I am going to have to make it a point to get to know your Fox better. She sounds like a very interesting woman.’

  Marie grinned. ‘I think she might like that, because you’re a very interesting woman too.’

  25th August.

  Fox watched the preview screens in the control room with a slightly amused smile on her face. The subject matter was serious, but the dialogue was a little on the stilted side and about as accurate as vids got when it came to portrayals of cops at work.

  ‘Where’s your buddy, Daker?’ she asked over her shoulder.

  Nathan Shark, producer, smiled his gleaming, white smile. ‘At home, up to his eyeballs in rewrites.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Uh-huh. Our Sister of Corruption came in and made a bunch of suggestions to improve the script. Adrian spent half an hour listening to her talking about her stay with them, moaned, and ran off to change things. We’re filming the stuff he doesn’t think needs to be rewritten from scratch first. Joys of editing, we can shoot in any order we like.’

  ‘I’m glad you were willing to accommodate Marie’s suggestions.’

  ‘Yeah, well…’ He lowered his voice. ‘She’s miles b
etter than the other actors, she’s done the research, and we want this to work. This is our big chance, just like it’s hers. She’s committed to the project and I’m not stupid enough to ignore things which make our heroine more sympathetic to the audience. There are one or two people who think the idea of having a Sister as the protagonist is never going to work.’

  Fox shrugged. ‘Everyone has their prejudices. Asking Sam to consult was a nice move too. Shame you didn’t ask me to do the same on the cops.’

  Shark winced. ‘If I’d known you would have, I’d have asked.’

  ‘Honestly, I’m up to my eyeballs in legislation. I took the morning out to come down because I needed a break. Is Marie shooting today?’

  ‘Next scene. If we ever get this one wrapped. We always knew M. J. was going to be the make-or-break character for the production and we were worried about casting Marie. I’ll admit it. Untried actress, we had worries. She’s nailing the scenes, making M. J. work how we’d hoped, and she looks great in the costume.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve seen her in the novices’ uniform. It’s the legs. Girl has legs to die for. When’s this due to stream?’

  ‘First of October, eleven p.m. slot. We’re screening it for some clients, ad sales, before then. That’s when we’ll really know if it’s going to work. If we can sell it to them, we can get repeat showings and on-demand slots, and prove that harder-hitting, more adult shows can work on the channel.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Fox said, watching the screen. She winced. ‘But get a consultant for the detective work next time, would you?’

  ~~~

  The storage room was dark and silent, and largely left that way. Hospitals always had things which were no longer needed, but maybe someone could use, sometime, probably just after Hell froze over. This was the place they ended up, deep in the basement.

  The sound, when it came, was sudden. Plastic ripped, rent apart by something sharp. Then there was rustling, a sharp snap, and footsteps in the darkness. The door opened and a tall figure stepped into the light beyond. He paused, checking the corridor, and then closed the door. And only then did he lift his right hand and watch the slim blades slip back into hiding in his fingertips.

  His head turned once more, examining the corridor. An illuminated sign, no v-tags buried away down here, indicated the way out and he set off toward it with a purpose. In the world above, there was work to be done, his work, the one and only purpose he had. In the world above, people were going to die.

  Part Two: Jack

  New York Metro, 30th September 2060.

  Sister Georgina Parton was in a good mood. Her last client, a financial consultant in one of the arcologies near JFK, had given her a good tip. Even if she had earned it, the guy had some interesting kinks to say the least, she was always pleased to make that much over the going rate. She would put a little extra into the chapter house funds this month. Her next client was a fit, very flexible, widow who would ask her to stay the night and lived in an apartment block a short walk from the vast spire she had come from. In ten minutes, Georgina would be drinking wine and getting ready for a night of enthusiastic sex.

  Smiling, she allowed the slideway to carry her to street level and started north at a brisk pace. The area here was fairly safe, though there were Sprawl regions to the west. It was best to keep your eyes open, and Georgina put her hand in her purse where she kept a can of antimugging spray. When she saw the man walking toward her on the street, she considered taking out the spray, just in case, but then she got a better look at him. Tall, holding himself erect, and dressed in a long black coat which looked expensive. In the light from a street lamp, she made out sharply creased trousers and the kind of high collar that was in fashion for the wealthier man this year. Not a sprawler: Georgina relaxed.

  She smiled, lifting her face, as the distance closed between them. The man smiled back. He was quite easy on the eye: sculpted features and short, blue-black hair. And Georgina felt an element of uncertainty as she saw his face with its perfectly formed structure, but by then it was too late. His arm swung and light glinted from metal blades, and Georgina Parton’s throat was opened up from one side to the other.

  As she fell, clutching frantically at her neck in an attempt to stem the flow of blood, the man grabbed her and dragged her into a nearby alley. Even as Georgina’s vision faded into darkness, she felt him slicing at her clothes and knew she was about to die.

  ~~~

  Fox walked into the chapter house wondering what she was doing there. The summons had come just after ten a.m. and was marked as urgent. It had come directly from Sister Naomi. Fox went straight to the Sister on duty at the front desk, opened her mouth…

  ‘Miss Meridian,’ the receptionist said, ‘Sister Naomi is expecting you. Go straight up.’

  ‘Right.’ Fox looked at the girl, noting the sombre expression. ‘I don’t suppose you have some idea what this is about?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. It’s about murder. Sister Naomi will tell you everything.’

  Naomi was not smiling, nor was her expression that of the haughty dominatrix. She looked worried. After pouring coffee, she settled herself on the couch in her room, but she leaned forward, elbows on her knees and hands clasped into fists.

  ‘The receptionist said murder,’ Fox said when Naomi did not speak.

  ‘Sister Georgina Parton was found dead this morning. NAPA are being circumspect about the details, even with us, but they’ve assigned Detective Rutherford of precinct seventeen to the case despite the fact that the body was found within precinct nineteen. Rutherford caught a case earlier in the month, a prostitute found murdered and mutilated, and another one on the seventeenth, this time an unregistered sprawler. We assume that Sister Georgina is part of the same sequence.’

  ‘NAPA normally assign an inspector to serial cases.’

  ‘Not this time. We’ve pressed for a resolution on this. When the first one came up, we made contact with NAPA and… expressed our opinion that the murder and mutilation of a prostitute suggested a serial killer might be operating.’

  ‘And they told you to mind your own business. Now they’ve got one, officially.’

  ‘The continued assignment of Detective Rutherford is not inspiring confidence in their investigation.’

  Fox looked at her. ‘And you’d like me to stick my nose in. NAPA are not going–’

  ‘NAPA are not doing their job, Fox. I couldn’t take a direct hand in this before, but now he’s killed one of mine.’

  Fox bit at her lip, thinking. ‘The new legislation goes live on the eighth of October. Then I can get access to the case files. Without them, I’m working entirely in the dark unless this detective wants to give me them.’

  ‘I can get you the data.’

  ‘Do I want to know how?’

  Naomi shrugged. ‘People owe me favours. You’d make it official on the eighth, but I can get the data before then.’

  ‘Okay. Get me what you can and I’ll see what I can do. I’ll go talk to Detective Rutherford and see if she’s willing to share any information. Her captain will be bugging her about clean-up rates, so she may be willing to take the help.’

  Naomi grimaced. ‘From what I hear, I doubt it.’

  ~~~

  Detective Madelaine Rutherford was a slight sort of woman, an attractive blonde with blue eyes and a distracted, almost annoyed, look to her face. She took Fox to a small conference room off the bullpen where the detectives in her unit were housed, sat down, and glared.

  Since she did not seem inclined to start, Fox did. ‘Palladium has been asked to look into the death of Sister Georgina Parton. I understand that’s your case.’

  ‘Yeah, one of eight outstanding cases I’m working on. One of which is someone supplying Titan to kids in North Queens.’

  Fox took a second to consider and then said, ‘So the death of a hooker doesn’t rate highly on your radar.’

  Rutherford stared at her. ‘The death of any citizen of this metro is of concern to NA
PA.’

  Fox smiled. ‘Of course. Since my company has been contracted to look into this, I am able to offer our resources in the investigation. We have considerable resources.’

  ‘Not required.’

  ‘As you wish. I’d appreciate access to the case–’

  ‘Out of the question. NAPA does not provide active case files to–’

  ‘I’m going to get them in eight days, Detective. In eight days, I can have access to any case, active or inactive, providing that I can show reason, and I can. Why not help out a little early? I can’t arrest the guy, it’ll be yours if I find him, and I don’t have three murders to solve with more on the way.’ Fox saw the woman’s lips twitch slightly: there was something Fox did not know and Rutherford was amused. ‘I’m sure your captain is keen to get these homicides off his books.’

  ‘I’ll take it up with him,’ Rutherford said, not meaning a word of it. ‘He’ll say no.’

  ‘What can you tell me about Georgina Parton’s death?’

  ‘Details of active cases are not up for discussion.’

  ‘My understanding of the previous deaths is that they had their throats slit and then their bodies were mutilated. Someone discussed some of the details, because the first one was reported in the media. Gruesome corpses are always newsworthy. Disembowelled was what was reported.’

  ‘No comment.’

  Fox got to her feet. ‘Thank you for your time, Detective. In return, some advice. Make sure your case files look good, because if I read them and think you’ve fucked up the investigation, I’ll put a complaint through that’ll have you busted down to rookie. Good day.’

  ‘She did not look happy when we left,’ Kit said inside Fox’s head as they went down in the elevator.

  ‘NAPA may be concerned about the death of any citizen, but she isn’t. The trouble is that there’s fuck all we can do until we have data to work with. Did Naomi send over Parton’s personal file?’

  ‘Yes. Primary me is busy setting up a murder room using it.’

  ‘Okay, find out what she was doing before she was killed. If she was with a client, see if we can get an interview.’