Criminal Minds (Fox Meridian Book 4)

by Niall Teasdale

‘Uh, yes.’ Vali gulped down the rest of his mead and blinked at her.

  ‘Whatever we do, it would be easier if you undressed.’

  ‘Ha! Yes, I suppose it… Are you making fun of me?’

  Kit giggled. ‘Only a little. Zorra says that if you are not having fun during sex, you should probably not be doing it.’ Settling onto her right side, Kit propped herself up on an elbow and watched as Vali struggled out of his clothes. He was, she noted with some relief, definitely interested in the proceedings.

  ‘Okay,’ Vali said, ‘now what did you have in mind?’

  Kit stretched her right leg straight down, and then calmly and elegantly raised the left one straight upward. ‘You come here and kneel across my leg. My other leg goes on your shoulder. Then you just need to, um, get yourself in position…’

  Showing more eagerness now, Vali straddled Kit’s thigh, looping one hand around her raised leg and edging forward. ‘That’s it,’ Kit said. ‘Now just… Mmm… Yes, that’s it. And now you should just be able toooooo!’

  ‘Is it all right?! I’m not hurting–’

  Kit’s sensory input feeds settled and her eyes uncrossed. ‘It’s okay. I mean, it’s better than okay, it’s… It’s not like when Zorra uses her fingers, it’s more… more. I am going to be hours analysing my reactions to this.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I mean that… You know I run this place and a lot of this kind of thing happens here… Not here, but in Niflhel as a whole, but I’ve never actually… indulged.’

  ‘I’m your first?’

  ‘Yes. No one else has ever… intrigued me as much as you do.’

  ‘Well, you’re my first. Man. I’ve been with Zorra. Though, I think you should try some moving. This is very nice, but I think there should be some– Oh! Oooo! Ooohhhooooo… Yes. Keep doing… mmm… that.’

  New York Metro.

  Fox opened her eyes, sighed, and set down the induction loop cable she had used to connect into Niflhel. Kit was standing beside the sofa looking interested. ‘I’m going to say that your copy is still in there with Vali, right?’ Fox said.

  ‘Yes,’ Kit replied. ‘I must admit to being quite curious regarding the data we will synchronise on her return.’

  ‘I’m also right in thinking that she’s in there doing bedroom gymnastics with Vali, yes?’

  Kit’s cheeks coloured. ‘That was the intention.’

  ‘She left to go see him about fifty minutes ago, so she’s either got him out of his britches or they’re having a really long discussion about your relationship.’

  ‘Oh, I really hope it’s the first option. I’ve never… you know?’

  ‘Been banged silly?’

  ‘I think you’ve managed that. I mean, with a male. I’ve never been with a man and it’s… It arouses my curiosity.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope that’s not all that’s aroused. I’m going to go back to contract documents. If your copy’s not back in an hour, I’ll go in with an assault team.’

  ‘I hope that isn’t necessary.’

  Fox gave Kit a smirk. ‘I kind of hope it is. For your sake.’

  4th November.

  ‘I am going to be hours analysing my reactions to this.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I mean that…’

  Kit paused the replay of her memory once again and looked at the face of the man, or avatar anyway, who had been on the brink of giving her a couple of hours of quite exquisite sensation. As she had predicted, upon returning from Niflhel and synchronising with her other copies, she had been tasked with a thorough analysis of what had happened. So she was running on one of her server’s quantum processors and doing just that. She imagined it would seem a little clinical to a human, but Kit was learning: she was taking experience and turning it into knowledge which could only result in a more exciting experience in the future.

  And she thought her analysis was highly likely to bear fruit in that regard, but she found herself coming back to that same, short exchange over and over again. Indeed, the others, now aware of her memories of a pleasurable afternoon in Vali’s homestead, had both requested that she run a deeper analysis of that moment.

  It was not simply that moment. Kit knew that some element of suspicion had been forming for months, though it had been brought into sharp relief by that one remark, made in a moment of excitement. He had said, ‘Me too.’

  Humans did go over their actions and analyse them, Kit assumed. Fox did. She would replay her memory of events in an effort to detect things she could have done better, or to spot remarks made during an interrogation which might give more insight, or just to relive the experience. Kit had indulged herself with a few minutes of full-sensory replay when she began her analysis: not all of it, but enough to remind her of the feel of the thing before she took it apart.

  But Kit was fairly sure that humans did not think of what they were doing as an analysis process. Learning from their mistakes, reliving the moment, reviewing, re-watching… But analysing? She had provided the phrase and he had responded, so it was not clear-cut, but taken with the other evidence…

  Kit decided on her course of action and compiled her final analysis report. The conclusion of the sub-analysis concerning Vali’s comment was a simple one, if rather inexact: ‘I believe that there is a significant probability that Vali is an infomorph.’

  5th November.

  Fox was lying in her lover’s arms, warm, comfortable, and satisfied, but her attention was not wholly in the room with him. Sam and Marie had gone out to Sheela Na Gig, but Fox had persuaded Jason, with little effort, to stay in for the evening. Yet another day of contract reading had brought on a headache which was not severe, but it was persistent. Jason had been gentle with her, but also persistent, and the headache was a memory, and she was taking the weekend off no matter how much it meant she needed to play catch-up on Monday…

  But NAPA were running another sting op and, now that the lovemaking was over for the immediate future, Fox was monitoring what Palladium’s operations room was managing to pick up. She was not expecting a repeat of the previous week. She was not expecting anyone to even catch sight of anyone who might be the killer. She checked in anyway and watched the ops room’s assessment of NAPA surveillance frames as they ran their patrols until she thought the time was right.

  ‘How about we go grab a drink?’ Fox said, her voice low to match the lowered lighting. ‘I think we should take a break prior to round two, which I expect to be crazed and kinky.’

  Jason chuckled. Fox felt his breath against her neck and almost reconsidered the break. ‘I take it from that that your headache has gone?’

  ‘You’re a miracle cure.’ Fox slipped out of his arms and off the bed, and padded out to the lounge without bothering to dress. She figured the kinky could start on the sofa.

  When Jason followed her, he had put on a pair of briefs. This was not just an aesthetic choice, he had told her, because a naked woman was a thing of beauty, and a naked man was an accident waiting to happen: something was bound to get twisted, crushed, mangled, or attacked by a cat.

  ‘Wine?’ Fox asked. There was a bottle open and waiting on the table, the grapes grown and the drink bottled in the West Canadian Union.

  ‘That would be nice. A Canadian vineyard. Most people do not believe me when I say wine was produced in the country before the climate shifts.’

  Fox grinned at him. ‘Thirty-first wine-producing nation in the world as of the second decade. I looked it up. I’d serve French, but I can’t afford it. Had it once. Jackson broke out a bottle when I moved to New York. Don’t want to think what it cost and I couldn’t tell the difference anyway.’

  Jason took an offered glass and settled onto the sofa. ‘Expense is not a guarantee of quality, but of rarity. Most of the old vineyards are barren wastes now. I’ve never had French wine, so you are one up on me.’

  Fox sat beside him, leaning herself against him. �
�I’m going to say that you aren’t missing much, but I don’t exactly have an educated palate. It was nice enough, but–’

  Belle’s sudden appearance brought Fox to a stop. There was no way the house’s supervisory AI would interrupt them unless she thought it was important. ‘Fox, I am sorry to intrude…’

  ‘I know you wouldn’t without good reason,’ Fox replied. ‘What’s up?’ Nothing had come through from ops, but Belle was wearing her serious face.

  ‘IB-Nineteen is broadcasting a newsflash. They have received an email, apparently from the “Ripper” killer.’

  Jason spoke up before Fox could. ‘I think we should see this. You will not relax again, Fox, unless you do.’

  He was right, of course, a fact which unaccountably pleased her. ‘Run the clip, Belle.’

  An image appeared in the air beside Belle’s avatar. A presenter was facing camera while a scrolling banner rolled past below him. ‘IB-Nineteen received this message from an untraceable source nineteen minutes ago. NAPA were contacted immediately, but have provided no comment at this time. IB-Nineteen stands ready to assist the police as and when required.’ Fox decided she hated the presenter already, though he was only reading a script. ‘The message purports to come from someone calling himself “Ripper,” and contains only the following cryptic text: “Though she uses the name she chose in France, I know her. None shall bar me from my greatest transformation. She will be made perfect.”’

  Fox frowned. ‘The name she chose in France? Mute it, Belle.’ The sound cut off, though the text of the message continued to scroll past below the presenter.

  ‘Who is “she?”’ Jason asked.

  ‘Uh, he has an obsession with the original Jack’s last canonical victim, Mary Jane Kelly. He considered it the greatest of the murders, the most perfect. I think he’s selected someone to take her place, and I think he’s going to kill her on the eighth or ninth of this month, the anniversary of the original crime.’

  Jason raised an eyebrow. ‘Marie,’ he said. ‘The French form of Mary is Marie.’

  Kit appeared on the opposite side of the video display from Belle, looking concerned. ‘Miss Kelly was reported to have spent two weeks in France in eighteen eighty-four,’ Kit said. ‘She was invited there by a client, but was not happy with her life there and returned. However, she adopted the name “Marie Jeanette” at that time.’

  ‘And Marie played Kelly in the vid,’ Fox said, ‘and she’s been splattered all over the channel in adverts for the series. Shit. Kit, contact Sam for me. Mark it private, give him the data. Tell him it’s unlikely to go down tonight, but he should be careful.’

  ‘Should we join them?’ Jason asked.

  Fox shook her head. ‘It’s not going to happen tonight and Sam’s a capable man. He’s almost certainly armed too.’

  ‘Sam is carrying a small, semi-automatic pistol,’ Belle confirmed.

  ‘And he has confirmed receipt of the information,’ Kit added. ‘He says he will tell Marie about it in the morning. She will be with him tonight anyway.’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ Fox said. ‘Okay, you two can clear off. Nothing’s going to happen at all until Sam and Marie leave the club, and I still want my crazed and kinky.’

  ‘If you think it’s safe enough,’ Jason said, ‘I would not deny you.’

  ‘I do.’ Fox pursed her lips. ‘But just in case… Kit, get ops to put the RRU on the roof on alert. I want it ready to support Sam if it even looks like I’m wrong about this.’

  6th November.

  ‘Oh,’ Marie said. ‘Well, that explains why I heard engines overhead all the way home last night.’

  ‘You seem to be taking this very calmly,’ Jason commented. They were all in Sam’s lounge having breakfast: it had seemed the right way to brief Marie.

  ‘Not the first time some nut has wanted to kill me.’

  ‘Yeah, well, last time was probably my fault,’ Fox said. ‘Grant was looking for a target close to me, and you fitted. This time it’s all down to you. This is what fame and fortune gets you.’

  ‘I’m not so sure about the fortune part, but okay. Still, I’ve got the best bodyguard I could hope for, and the best detective trying to catch him. And if you had an RRU following us home last night, I’ve got something that’ll turn him into scrap in about a second watching over me. Am I under house arrest again?’

  Fox looked at Sam, biting at her lip as she considered. She took a drink of coffee and then said, ‘Here’s how I see it. He won’t try during the day. He’d really like to get you alone, in your apartment if he can. Mary Kelly was murdered in her lodgings. But his chances of breaking into this place are up there with aliens landing on the White House lawn. I’m almost certain he’s going to try on the night of the eighth. If we could make him think he has an opportunity then, we could turn the tables on him.’

  ‘You want to use her as bait?’ Sam asked. His voice betrayed little, but Fox figured he was not pleased with the idea.

  ‘I’m saying that she should be safe with her normal routine through to Monday night. And on Monday night we set something up so that Ripper thinks he’s got an opportunity to take her. Yes, she’ll be bait, but I think we can handle this in a way that means she’s not the one at risk.’

  Sam nodded. ‘I may not like it, but she’s in danger anyway. If we can control the situation, that would be better. You had better explain your plan.’

  ‘At the moment, it’s not so much a plan as an idea, but we’ve got the whole weekend to work out how to implement it.’

  8th November.

  Nathan Shark, tall and blonde and smiling like a man who saw his fortune stretching out ahead of him, escorted Marie to the doors of Time Spire. It was late, almost seven thirty, but the lobby was bustling with people heading for the mall.

  ‘You’re okay getting home?’ Shark asked. ‘I can get you a cab here in a couple of minutes.’

  Marie grinned and waved the option away. ‘It’s fifteen minutes’ walk. Twenty tops. And I’m not famous enough yet to get mobbed on the street.’

  ‘Give it a couple of months. Stay safe.’

  Marie nodded. ‘Oh, I will.’ And she set off to the slideway which would take her down to ground level. She would head up Broadway to 42nd Street, probably turn up 8th Avenue, because that would take her past some of the few theatres which still existed. Down West 46th Street and she was basically home. It was all pretty convenient, really. It would be a shame if fame did stop her from walking to work.

  She pulled her coat closer around herself as she walked. The weather had shifted in the last day or so: cold winds from the north bringing cloudy skies. The temperature had dropped and Belle’s forecast called for rain during the night. So Marie hunkered down in her coat and stretched her legs. Being inside would actually be really quite nice just now.

  ~~~

  Following her was easy enough: she had a preference for bright colours, it seemed, and her short, lemon coat was visible at some considerable distance. He was glad of that, because she also had long legs and he wished to appear casual as he followed her through this benighted city. He had to hurry as she crossed at the corner of 42nd and 8th, briefly losing sight of her before picking up that coat again as she walked into the theatre district.

  Somehow, he was going to have to get to her tonight. In her home would be preferable, where he could take his time over her transformation. The security on her lodgings was, however, formidable and he had found no way to breach it. He might have to settle for an outdoor venue and hope that he had the time to perfect her.

  Not here, however. There were far too many people here. It was not dark either: the street lights and signs saw to that. The world he had come from had shadows and darkness, but this place seemed to be alight and alive twenty-four hours a day. There was always something happening somewhere in this city which never seemed to sleep, never seemed to rest, but he knew that there would be fewer people out on the streets around her house. It was quieter there an
d he would have more chances to take her.

  She turned the corner ahead and he lost sight of her. A flash of worry took him by surprise and he rushed to the corner, looking around quickly in case she had gone into one of the buildings. But no, he saw the bright, yellow coat and followed it. She actually seemed to be moving faster now: undoubtedly the thought of being inside and warm was quickening her pace. He stretched his legs and tried to keep up, but she was pulling ahead until she stopped to look in through a shop window. He caught a quick glimpse of dark, red hair as he closed the distance a little, careful not to get too close. And then she was off again.

  He was not going to be able to catch her on the street, not at the pace she was going. If he ran after her, she might well hear him and she was pulling ahead again. He ran through his options and came to a conclusion: he had one chance, but he estimated that it was a good chance and it would put him inside her home. He had to make it happen.

  He watched as she stepped up to the door, closing as fast as he could while appearing casual. There was a second or two of pause, which allowed him to get closer than he had hoped, and then she was opening the door and stepping inside. He began to run, and almost threw himself down the steps as the door began to close. He shoulder-barged it, smashing it back open, and he was in. There, to his right, was Marie Jeannette in her yellow coat. She was turning in surprise. He righted himself, kicked the door shut, and his blades popped out as his arm swung right at her throat.

  But the razor talons scraped over her skin as though it was armoured. She stumbled backward, through the porch door and into the lounge, and he saw her face. The wrong face!

  ~~~

  Fox had been intending to leave the door unlocked and wait for him, and the sudden impact behind her had been a surprise. She had not expected him to try anything that stupid to get in and was not ready for him. The immediate strike for the throat she had expected, and at least the knife-proof collar had worked, but now she was trying to gain distance and get her pistol free of her coat before he could get another swing in.

  Not easy. Claws swung and she dodged backward. The first swing skated past her, but the second bit into her stomach. The stupid coat, a duplicate of Marie’s, took some of the bite out of it, but she still felt hot pain as the blades cut her skin. It was like he smelled the blood, and maybe he did given that his olfactory system was supposed to be enhanced. She saw his eyes widen and his lips curl into a predatory smile, and she got her pistol free and fired three rounds at almost point-blank range.