"What do you have in mind?"
"A couple of spin-off ads. Dealing with music, talking about how we have to preserve our heritage, and that sometimes means going against what's currently popular. Also… with the Dewey and Hansen campaigns, maybe you could twist it a little. Say that the best music shouldn't be restricted to the filch, but it's a heritage for everyone, and we want to make sure that it remains a heritage for everyone.”
"Hmmm… might work.”
"We've already got it in the bill, and it's on its way to the Executive. She should be signing it within a week.”
"What if someone on the other side complains that it's a private project?"
I couldn't help smiling. "No one did, and they won't now. The pilot project's not in my district. That way, I could fight for art, education, and all the servies who've been deprived.”
Bill shook his head, but the expression was one of reluctant admiration.
"I'd also like to see if you could use a singer. Luara Cornett, she's a university professor at UDenv, I think. She does classical vocals and art song. Do a clip, and have her talk about it. See if you can do a rez undertone to one of her art songs, whichever fits the Talemen needs…”
Canthrop's mouth dropped open, and then he began to laugh.
"It's not that funny, I trust.”
He shook his head. "It's not that, Senator. You have excellent taste. Do you know who sings about half your commercials already? It's Professor Cornett. That's how she makes a living. She couldn't do it as a professor.”
It was my turn to laugh. For a woman, the professor definitely had spunk—or guts and brains. She had mentioned doing rezads, but I hadn't thought she'd be doing mine. "Maybe you could work that in… one of the foremost classical singers in Denv, and she has to make a living as a backrez singer?"
"I'll see what we can do once we get the package.” He paused. "Gilligan isn't going to complain about the budget, is he?"
"I'll make sure he doesn't.” I could do that. That was easy enough.
After Canthrop, I put in a call to Les Kerras. He was on-screen or something.
So I took the sheets that the NASR junior bureaucrat had provided, made copies, and then began to study them in the half hour before I was supposed to meet with Jo Jaffrey for lunch. She represented the Nengland District and wanted something—probably more support for coastal reclamation.
The Kemal business was looking more involved than I liked, and yet there wasn't even enough information to call a hearing.
Les Kerras for you, Senator.
Thank you. I set up the holo projection.
"You called, Senator?"
"I did, Les. I have some interesting information that I'll be having delivered to you. There are two packages. One is on an amendment we got attached to the education appropriations and passed as part of the bill going to the Executive. It's about effectively preserving an aspect of our cultural heritage. The other you'll also find interesting.”
"I'm sure I will, Senator, and I might have some interesting information for you in a day or two. I hope so, anyway.” He paused. "Have you heard anything more about these non-drug overdoses?"
"I can't say I have, Les. I might if I were on the health committee, but staying current with all the economic and commerce issues takes most of my time.”
"That, and getting reelected.” He smiled.
"You do what's best for your constituents, and that should take care of itself.” But it only took care of itself if you let them know what you were doing, and if you had the money to get the word to them.
"Best of luck, Senator.”
"Same to you, Les.”
I collapsed the projection, wondering if Les really had something. Like most T-heads, he was hard to read, especially on a holo image.
I still had to hurry to make lunch with Jaffrey.
Chapter 34
Chiang
Met with the captain on Monday. Nothing new. No news breaks either. Parsfal called once. Told him I had nothing new, but he'd be the first to know. He nodded. I hoped he'd stay patient. Tuesday, I came in earlier. Was there at zero six-forty, before Sarao.
Looked out my window across the Park. Didn't see much except trees and grass. Another week had gone by. Wasn't any further along in finding answers to anything.
Read through Resheed's report. Weekend ODs had gone up—the mystery ODs. No surprise to me. The younger set attended more rezrap over the weekend. But guesses weren't evidence. Ebol4 deaths were going down. Only a hundred more over the week in Denv, mostly northside pennies.
Another servie suicide. Young. Jumped off the Elletch Bridge after he'd left the Red Moon. Alkie levels moderate. No other drugs. Checked suicides against the trend. Up—but not to stat significance. Gang riot in northside. Wasn't reported that way, just a disturbance in the park by the community center. Cannizaro didn't like the word "gang.” We didn't use it. Smash and grabs had gone down. Made sense. People worried about ebol4. Fewer out and about, less opportunity.
A handful of TIDs, some using the counterfeit GIL technique, some pickup kidnap-style, force the victim to transfer funds to an invisible account. This year, most invisible accounts were in Afrique.
I hadn't heard anything from CDC on the rezrap angle. Still thought rezrap interacted with soop. Wouldn't be something that CDC could prove quickly. If ever.
Lieutenant… I'm here. Sarao sounded cheerful on the link.
Good.
I have a message here from Amanda Cewrigh. Get back to you.
Record it and let me know. Try to get her to open up.
Will do.
Sarao was probably better at getting women to talk. I set aside Resheed's report and leaned back in the ergochair. Didn't help much. Had less than two weeks to finish off the McCall review, and I still had nothing that amounted to evidence. Kugeler had been patient. He wouldn't stay that way. Couldn't help feeling that a lot more was going on.
Something that Morss had said weeks ago popped into my head, something about Kemal getting a wad of legit credits. Why would anyone invest in Kemal's enterprises? Kemal as a front? Any super-filch had to know what Kemal was. If they did, it meant they were even more powerful, and that Kemal knew they were. It didn't seem logical. Kemal wouldn't subordinate himself. Few with that kind of wealth would trust him. Shook my head. I was missing something.
Stood and walked to the window, waiting for Sarao to finish with the Cewrigh woman. Clouds were rolling in off the mountains. Late-afternoon rain, probably.
A good twenty minutes passed.
Lieutenant… you were right. There was a connection. The recording's on your system.
Thanks, Sarao. Felt myself smiling. Hadn't had much luck, but maybe this would help.
I sat back down in the ergochair and called up the recording, full-size, so that I could see Amanda Cewrigh's face. Then I watched and listened to the whole thing. Had to get a feel.
Then I watched the holo display again. After that, I cut to the critical part.
Amanda Cewrigh wore a blue silksheen jacket and trousers with a pale off-white loose blouse. Dark-haired, but her eyes matched the jacket. So did the glittered earrings.
"We're still looking into the Iveson-McCall case,” Sarao said. "Someone had mentioned that you might have known Nanette Iveson.”
"I'm glad someone is looking into it. Evan just wasn't the type to commit suicide. He couldn't have killed her, either. Poor man. He might have been a legal shark, but outside of his office, he couldn't harm a fly. Oh… yes, I've known Nanette for years. We went to Holyston together. She was such a comfort when Erneld died.”
"She must have been,” Sarao said.
The Cewrigh woman shifted on the damask-upholstered chair. "She was a physiological psychologist.”
"What did she say?" asked my sergeant.
Amanda Cewrigh frowned. "It's been so long ago. Months now… but she said something like Erneld shouldn't have committed suicide. She wondered how anything could have driv
en him to that. She knew Erneld, you know.”
"Do you have any idea who might have had a reason for the McCalls to die?"
Amanda Cewrigh shook her head. "Everyone loved them. And Evan, he was so professional. So was Nanette. That was why everyone trusted them. They never spoke about anything professional. You could count on that. All I ever knew was that he was a privacy solicitor. He wouldn't even tell us his clients. He'd say something like, 'I wouldn't be much of a privacy solicitor if I told you, now, would I?'“
That was it. Nanette Iveson had said that the Cewrigh boy shouldn't have committed suicide. Went back through my notes, and dug up the Cewrigh suicide. A little more than four months ago. Would have bet that Nanette Iveson had pulled out the rez equipment then. No way to prove that, either… unless…
Sarao?
Yes, Lieutenant?
Sometimes, when filch get rid of stuff, they give it to charities… that sort of thing. Can you make some calls? See if anyone remembers a load of high-end personal rez equipment that was donated by either Evan McCall or Nanette Iveson… probably about three months ago? A long shot, but I didn't have much else.
McCall had been so tight-lipped that no one knew anything. So was his wife. And both of them were dead.
Decided to put in a call to Kugeler. Didn't like the idea, but he deserved it.
He was in, sitting behind a wide blond desk. He wore a gray jacket over a shimmering gray shirt, with a darker gray cravat. Still had the narrow face that demanded spectacles. His desk was empty. Not one thing on it. He nodded to me. "Do you have anything to report? Or do you have a question?"
"Some of each.” I tried a rueful smile. Probably didn't work. "We still have some leads that we're chasing. It's taking longer than I'd hoped. Wanted you to know we're still working.”
"Good. Captain Cannizaro said you were tenacious.” His smile was worse than mine. "What is your question?"
"Do you know, or could you ask the daughters if there happened to be anyone that their father trusted? Trusted enough to talk to about anything? Besides his wife,” I added.
Kugeler frowned. "I don't know anyone, but I didn't really know Evan that well. I can't see that asking that would hurt. Might I ask why?"
"Because I wonder if Evan McCall knew too much.” With that sentence I was committing myself at least to a decision of reporting that his death was murder, even if I couldn't identify the murderer.
"You do think it was murder, then?"
"You know I'm leaning that way, Mr. Kugeler. Right now, I have limited hard evidence. Nothing that points to anyone. Only that his death wasn't an accident. At the moment, if you announce it, we'll lose all chance of finding out whether we can discover more.”
He nodded slowly. "I will ask Ms. Iveson and her sister, and I will insist that they abide by your caution. Is that all?"
"For now.”
I was looking at a blank projection. Collapsed it. I felt better. Still rather go with an unsolved murder than anything else. Also felt I might be safer. Kugeler wasn't the type to let matters rest if something happened to me—or anyone else. Still… decided I'd better be careful when I was out.
Sat back behind the desk again, just trying to let my thoughts settle themselves.
Rain began to beat on the outside windows, but it only lasted ten minutes. Fifteen at the most.
Lieutenant, you're getting good.
About what?
Mountain House—they're the charitable outfit that most of the filch give their discards to. Not quite three months ago, they picked up some rez equipment from the McCalls. The dispatcher remembered it because the staff went wild. Everyone wanted it. No one really wanted to put it out for sale in the thrift outlet. So they set a price on it, and let the staff bid on it, and donated the money to the Mountain House fund.
Does anyone recall exactly what it was?
I've got a description. The dispatcher and the manager documented it. They were afraid not to because it was so high end. Worth more than ten thousand creds new, they estimated.
Lock in the description and send someone out to VR it as a visual deposition for evidence.
Will do.
Just hoped no one would ask me how it fit. I knew. Explaining it would be tough, but I didn't want to let that part slip.
Chapter 35
Cannon
Patience was usually rewarded in politics. Few impatient politicians ever lasted, especially in the NorAm Senate. So I sat tight and waited, and smiled, and went to committee meetings, and the Senate floor, and voted, and sent back targeted link messages to constituents, and talked with Canthrop about the next round of rezads. I also waited for Hansen's next round of attack ads. They hadn't appeared, and that bothered me. When someone changes their game plan, you'd better count on their knowing something you don't. Unless they're running out of credits, and Gill had assured me that wasn't the case, that Heber Smith had rounded up more than enough credits to run attack ads for six months.
I'd also heard nothing from Kerras. Canthrop sent me a dataclip to my office link that showed the story Kerras had run on the music education amendment. Nice story, but short. Canthrop had also sent it to Gill, but Gill had sent back a message saying to hold off on using the story and the related rezads until the bill went to the Executive and was signed into law. That wouldn't be for another few days, at least.
Kerras should have had some comment or reaction on the Kemal data, but maybe he'd been tied up with the stories on the Martian Republic's reaction to the latest fabrications coming out of the Agkhanate.
There were times to be patient, and times not to be. This was a time not to be, and on Tuesday morning, I headed over to Ransom Lottler's office. I didn't like doing it, but if you wanted to meet with the chairman of the NorAm Defense Committee, that's where you went.
Almost as soon as I entered his office, a young blonde woman stepped forward. She was almost as beautiful as Ciella, but Lottler chose all of his junior aides on looks. Ciella had been luck for me. She actually just walked in, looking for a job. I'd had Ciella checked out doubly, because I didn't believe in that kind of fortune. Politicians who don't examine gift horses don't last long in office, and I wasn't about to be that kind.
"He's expecting you, Senator Cannon.”
"Thank you.” I offered the warm and paternal smile. Very paternal.
The door to Ransom's private office opened as I approached, and then closed behind me.
Ransom Lottler looked like an accountant, in his tailored suits and striped shirts, the kind that had been in style on and off for centuries. He had a winning and self-deprecating smile, the kind that announced to everyone that he was just a good fellow who'd been lucky enough to be elected to the NorAm Senate. He stood behind his desk as I entered, but didn't step forward to greet me.
"I hope you've had a good week, Ranse.”
"It's just started. I've had better. I've had worse, too. We all have.” As he reseated himself behind the desk, he activated the privacy cone. No one else would hear anything, but I had no doubts he'd record whatever happened inside the cone.
I took the seat directly across from him.
"What's on your mind, Elden?" Although he had a soft voice, one that you almost had to lean forward to hear when he talked in private, his expression said that I needed to get to the point. "We've got the PDF commander in front of the committee this morning. Closed session about the problems with the Martians.”
"The orbiter nuking or their so-called apology for failing to catch all the debris from that metal asteroid they fragmented two years ago and keep ignoring?"
"Both. We all know that they let some of that debris spiral in toward Earth just to point out what they could do. Now… you were about to say… ?" His thin eyebrows lifted in inquiry.
"There's a problem with MMSystems, and some of the other vital space-related formulating industries located in NorAm. Some of them are in your district.”
"By the way, you handled that amendment to the
education appropriations with class. I always have liked the way you've shown expertise in both commerce and education. Too many younger members try to do everything. They all think they know about defense.”
I just smiled. He was only five years older than I was. "That's why I'm here. You're the expert.”
"I know. Spare me the flattery. What problem?"
"MMSystems is about to change ownership and control. With the delicacy of events with the Martian Republic, I thought you ought to know.” Actually, the figures I had indicated Kemal already had control. He just hadn't exercised it.
Lottler didn't bother to conceal a frown. "How do you know this?"
"For now, let's just call it campaign research, Ranse. Under the privacy laws I can't even call an investigatory hearing.”
"Whereas I could inquire under continental security?"
"That's your choice,” I pointed out. "My hands are tied, practically and legally.”
"Not tied enough so that you could let me know.”
"You've got a big interest in the next level space tug system.” I grinned. "But the designs aren't set in stone. Not yet.”
"Are you going to get to the point? What do you want?"
"I don't. Not unless the laws are being evaded.”
"That means you think they are.”
"It's possible,” I admitted.
"Who's behind it? What does it have to do with the committee?"
"If I said what I suspect, it would be considered a violation of privacy,” I pointed out.
"Figured you'd make that point. Even under a privacy cone, you never even come close to the edge of the law.” Ransom scowled. "If I look into this… I'll understand what's going on?"
I certainly hoped so. "I don't know.”
"You won't say.”
He was right about that.
"That means that whoever's in this has the resources to bring a privacy injunction even against a sitting senator—and probably hammer your campaign as well.” He laughed. "Heard about your new positive campaign. It's beginning to make sense.”
I'd hoped he'd see it that way. Time for the hook. "The new ownership of MMSystems may not be whom it seems. It looks to be a front, one, shall we say, outside the normal political system.” I emphasized the word "outside" just a bit.
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