by Richard Dee
“Don’t worry, it’s just rats,” a male voice said, who was Gaynor taking to?
There was a whispered argument going on, something about a girl, and a payment. I was tense, ready to leap out if he attacked Gaynor. They both seemed to be angry, arms were waved.
“Here you are,” he said. A piece of paper was passed between them. Gaynor handed over some money, at least that was what it must have been; I saw the man counting something. Satisfied, he nodded, mumbled a few words, departed into the shadows further down the alley.
Gaynor walked past me, towards the road. “You can come out now, Miles,” she said.
“How did you know?”
“Come on, I’m a journalist, if it had been you, I’d have done the same. Anyway, I walked slowly, to give you time to catch up.” She put her arm around me. “It’s cute, nice to know someone cares.”
I had to ask. “Was it about Layla?”
She shook her head. “I told you it wasn’t. This was something else. I’ve been looking at that stuff about the crime ring on the islands, I asked around my contacts. You remember the Delegate from Dalyster?”
I did, everyone did. He was the whiter than white representative from one of the federated planets. It was a bit of a hole, with a reputation for corrupt police and a place where anything was available, at a price. The Delegate, Mattias something, had set himself up as a crusading champion of just about anyone on the planet, the man who was going to clean the place up. Given its reputation, it was amazing that he had been allowed to operate, yet the rulers had allowed him to be elected and that showed his bravery. He was a typical politician, you wouldn’t trust him, but you couldn’t help admiring his stance.
“Of course, what’s it about?” Surely he wasn’t connected with an organised crime ring here on Centra?
“He might not be the man we thought. I’ll tell you more when we get home.”
We walked for a few moments in silence. “Was the man you were meeting one of the names I gave you in the report?” I asked.
She looked at me. “A good journalist never reveals their sources, you know that.”
“Even when it might have been one of mine?”
She thought for a moment. “I reached out, he wasn’t one of mine, or yours. That was a man who used to work in one of the clubs on Dalyster, in a place called Vicksville. Apparently, it’s the tourist district. He was sent here to oversee some operations on the islands, he wouldn’t say what. He reckons that the local boss on Centra was never named but that he had connections in the police and government that kept the heat off them. And he was connected to a bigger crime ring, controlled from Dalyster. That’s where the Delegate came into the conversation. Actually, what was most interesting was what he told me about the club.”
“What did they do in this club that was so special?”
Her face wrinkled in disgust. “It’s a lookalike bar, people with fantasies about celebrities come to get hooked up with lookalikes for, well whatever. Dates, to be seen, private assignations.” She shuddered. “It seems sick; there must be a market for it though.”
It all sounded pretty extreme to me too. As far as I was concerned, Dalyster was the best place for it. It was far too edgy a subject for Getaway. Hendrix would never do a story on it, give it any publicity. “And this man, the shadowy boss with connections, does he say that it’s Mattias? Does he link everything together?”
“That’s the suggestion. He had nothing himself, the paper he gave me has a number, belonging to a girl who escaped from the club. She’s the one with all the dirt, apparently, she has enough to take the whole thing down.”
Chapter Nine
Next day, I was in the office trying to decide what to do. After my meeting with Igor, I didn’t want to do anything that would draw any more attention. I kept my head down, avoided the feed and left the rumour mill to get on with things.
Expressway Dave called me before lunch and asked for a meeting. Gaynor was out, she had left before me as usual. I called her and she said that she was following a lead. She must have been trying to find the girl who could expose the Delegate as a master criminal. She had told me the paper had a number on it, she must have omitted to mention that it also had a location. It was too late to follow her. I just had to hope that she would be careful.
I met Dave by his hut. “Right,” he said, “I’ve found her, the girl with the tattoo. But there’s a catch,” he added. “She’s not letting on much, even to me, until she gets some guarantees. She’s scared and worried, she’s willing to meet you and tell you all about it, as long as you promise to keep her safe. Some bad men are after her and she’s sure she’s gonna die!”
“If what she has is good information, the magazine will look after her,” I told him. I knew they would, they had before. All it would take was one call to Hendrix, my reputation would be restored and she would be in a safe house before you could say ‘scoop’.
“But I don’t understand, Dave. Why hasn’t she gone to the police, if she’s being threatened?”
“Usual story,” he said. “Like most of the ones I get here. She’s in trouble herself.”
“But surely it’s better to be protected by the police, even if you’ve done wrong. You’ll be kept alive, for one thing. And you’ll get a fair trial, you might even get a reduced sentence for co-operating.”
“It’s the federal police after her, not local,” he said, “at least a corrupt one is. That’s her problem.”
“Do you know any of her story? I need to tell my editor, so we can arrange things.”
“That’s fair enough. I can tell you a bit I guess. She’s run away from a bad situation, but before that, she was well off. She’s been helping a friend out by being Layla. That arrangement has come to an end, now she thinks that her past has caught up with her and she doesn’t know where to turn.”
Which sort of tied in with what I knew from Linda, but was it enough to convince Hendrix, and could I keep her away from Igor’s questioning?
“I saw the flash message about the kidnapping,” Dave continued. ‘Oh, great; another one,’ I thought.
I tried to make it seem like nothing. “That was just some drunk, the message should never have been sent.”
Dave smiled. “I gathered that from the speed at which it disappeared. Trouble is…” he stopped; as if he had gone too far.
“Trouble is what?” I asked. Surely he wasn’t going to tell me that Layla had been kidnapped? The idea was so left-field as to be ridiculous. I had it on good authority that Layla was in control of her situation. She had wanted to hide and had done so.
“I don’t know,” he said, “it’s just something I heard. A reaction to that message from someone, as if it wasn’t news. Look, speak to the girl, I’ve given her your number, she’ll message you.”
I took a chance, remembered Gaynor’s contact. “While I’m here, do you know anything about Mattias, on Dalyster?”
I hadn’t expected the strength of his reaction. He grabbed my collar, brought his face up close to mine.
“He’s poison,” he said as I pushed him away, hatred blazed in his eyes and I thought I was in trouble. Then he relaxed.
“I’m sorry, I got carried away for a moment.” He stood back, his face anguished. “I see it here, the homeless, well they’re not all from Centra. My reputation for helping seems to have spread. Somehow, they get here from all over. And the few that arrive from Dalyster, well they tell a different story where Mattias is concerned. I know all about his public face, but I hear that it’s a sham. There’s never anything that can be proved but he’s got a lot to answer for. I see the results of his private life, here, in the camp. I hear the stories. He’s clever, there’s never any direct link but I’m sure that he’s behind a lot,” he paused for a moment, I got the impression that he was deciding what to say next. “There’d be a market for Layla you know,” he said. “On Dalyster, they’re always looking for people like her.”
That tied in with what Gaynor had
said. I repeated the public view, “Mattias is fighting his government against child exploitation on Dalyster. That takes bravery, they’re a corrupt bunch. He has a wife, children, squeaky clean private life. Are you telling me, based on the word of a few, let’s be honest, less than full members of society, that there might be a connection between the Delegate and Layla Balcom’s disappearance?”
Dave looked at me, he was protective of his charges, in his way he was as brave as I had suggested the Delegate was. “OK then,” he said, “here’s a thought for you. Suppose Igor and the Delegate had issues. Suppose in fact that they hated each other.”
That wasn’t a stretch. Igor Balcom had upset a lot of people with his business operations. I would have to look and see if he had been involved with Dalyster. And it was the same as Linda had told me. I had a feeling that it was all falling into place.
“Go on.”
“Well then suppose that one saw a way to get an advantage over the other, a bit like your circulation wars? Or maybe someone found out about Mattias and decided to try and solve a problem.” He turned to walk away. “Think about it,” he suggested as he went into his hut and slammed the door.
Chapter Ten
“I saw Dave this afternoon,” I told Gaynor when she arrived in the office. She had beaten me back. At least she was sober this time, we had important things to discuss.
“What did you find?” she asked.
“Dave has a lead on the girl, the one with the tattoo, he’s setting up a meeting. And he’s given me a lot to think about.”
She could see that I was concerned. “What else did he say?”
I got up and shut her office door, moved my chair around closer to hers. “He suggested that kidnap wasn’t necessarily a hoax. It blew my mind for a moment; it was so unexpected. I didn’t know what to say.” Her mouth opened in shocked surprise.
“But that was just a throwaway comment at the party, designed to attract headlines. What did you say?”
“I didn’t know how to respond. Dave had seen the deleted message, hinted that he knew more but wouldn’t say. I threw Dalyster into the conversation, I was thinking about your contact. I wondered how he would react.” She looked annoyed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mention your source. He started on about how Mattias was bad, told me some things about Dalyster, then he told me that Igor and Mattias hated each other.”
“And, based on that, you think that Mattias has kidnapped Layla? You’re crazy. You told me Layla had set up her disappearance, now you reckon she has been kidnapped?”
“Let me tell you where my thoughts are heading. You told me about the place on Dalyster, a club where people go to hook up with lookalikes.”
I had got her attention she was definitely interested in this idea, she leaned forward, “where’s this heading?”
“How about this for an idea? Layla has got wind of the club, about Mattias’s involvement. Dolphin girl might have escaped from there, managed to find the real Layla and told her about it. Perhaps she left someone behind who’s involved against their will. Maybe Layla’s gone off to help her? It would also help her father at the same time.”
“What? Layla’s working for her father, to bring down the Delegate? I suppose next you’ll be telling me that she’s got caught and is a slave.”
“The suggestion was that Dalyster isn’t a nice place,” I said. “Not only that, Layla left suddenly, as if she had heard some news and needed to act quickly. Igor might not even know. Maybe he mentioned something and she’s decided that she can help, to impress him or do what she thinks he wants.”
“Oh please. Look, Miles, you’re jumping to so many conclusions it’s getting ridiculous. Two days ago, you were quite happy you knew what was going on. There’s been a few things, granted they seem to be connected, but are they really?”
“I don’t know anymore. You’re right; nothing definite was said, but it’s got me wondering. When are you meeting this girl?”
“Tonight, on top of the Rock at eleven. The old East lookout. I’m supposed to go alone.”
“No chance,” I said. “I’m coming too. I’ll keep out of the way but I’m going to be there.”
“What about if Dolphin girl calls?”
“Then she’ll have to wait. I’m not having you up there alone, not now that it’s getting serious. I’m leaving at eight. I’ll be well hidden by the time you get there.”
Chapter Eleven
And that was how I found myself on top of the Rock at nine-fifteen. I was concealed in heavy scrub with a clear view of the lookout. As far as I could tell, I was alone. As I drove up the switchback road, fifteen thousand feet below me, the city was spread out; the rhythm of the flashing lights making it look almost like a living thing. Then I crossed the top of the Rock and could only see the ocean. A few ships’ lights competed with the stars, confusing your mind on the position of the horizon. It felt like you were on the edge of infinity.
The Rock was a huge arch of weather-worn granite. It joined the city to Archios, the largest of the Jigsaw Islands. The hole in the arch was over ten thousand feet high. It was a major tourist attraction on Centra, hung with steel walkways, drilled full of tunnels and glass-enclosed observation points. The hot-air balloons that I watched from my apartment cruised through it for tourists to get a better view, some had restaurants, others just had seating. They were always busy.
There was only one road up for vehicles, a wide carriageway had been cut into the side of the rock. There was also a cable car for tourists. It had taken me an hour to drive to the top and my town car, even with a full charge, was barely able to get to the summit. I left it in one of the parking bays, plugged in and recharging. It was in the corner of the lot, out of sight. I hiked the last few hundred metres, keeping to the shadows and out of sight. There was nobody about. This was the quieter side, towards the city there were restaurants and clubs, over here was just a view of the islands and the sea. It was spectacular on a clear night, just not as popular. The old East lookout was generally deserted, the road in was blocked by huge boulders. There were multiple signs warning of unstable ground. People had used it for a time for drug deals and horseplay, but a spate of deaths had put them off.
The air up here was seriously thin, I struggled to breathe as I kept to the path, walking to the observation point. It was close to the edge but safely behind a stout fence. There was no artificial lighting, just the moons and stars, leaving deep shadows. The vegetation had grown back since the place had been abandoned; shrubs and tall grass hid crevasses and drops, as well as the edge itself.
I stayed well back from the platform, hidden by the side of the path in the thick grass and waited. After twenty minutes nothing had moved. It looked like I was alone. Carefully, trying not to make a sound, I approached the platform, hiding my recorder under a bench near the edge. The microphone should be powerful enough to pick up any conversation. If Gaynor was searched, she would be clean. I carefully retreated into a clump of bushes and made myself comfortable, I would be able to see and hear what happened. Hopefully, I would be close enough to help if there was any trouble.
I had been waiting for about ten minutes when I heard a noise off to my right, back towards the road. I looked at my watch, it was only just past ten. Gaynor had said she would arrive after half-past. I burrowed deeper into the undergrowth and watched as someone settled into position on the other side of the path, about thirty metres away from me. I couldn’t see them clearly, just the light from a screen. They must have been recording the meeting; they had as good a line of sight as I did.
Gaynor arrived at twenty minutes before eleven and sat on the benches facing the sea. She did nothing to indicate that she knew I was there. I looked across, the light from the screen flickered, as fingers typed at the keys. Whoever it was, they were sending a message, probably to say that the coast was clear and that Gaynor had arrived.
Five minutes before eleven, a small figure walked up the road towards us all, wearing a clown mask over shape
less clothes, their movements feminine and cautious. They went into the lookout and sat next to Gaynor.
“Hello,” they said. “Are we alone?”
“Yes,” Gaynor replied, “just like I promised. What’s your name?”
“Good,” she replied, the voice female but distorted; maybe she had something in her mouth. She was clever, there was no way to voice-print what she was saying. “You can call me… Rina. Stefan says that you want information about Mattias?” She was tense, never still, scanning the surroundings.
“That’s right, Rina. If you’re worried, I can protect you.” She must have seen Hendrix and asked for the same deal that I wanted for Dolphin girl. “We can get you somewhere safe, tonight, just as soon as you prove that you have useful information.”
“OK,” she said and I saw her relax, her shoulders dropped and she sat still. “You won’t find it anywhere else, but Mattias owns and controls the Doppel Club on Dalyster, in Vicksville. It’s just part of his empire. If he knew that I was talking to you, I’m dead, hence the mask.”
“His empire? Can you prove this?” Gaynor asked.
“I’ve got proof, nothing with me tonight though. You’ll have to keep me alive to get it.”
“Fair enough,” Gaynor said. “You can give me all the details later, just tell me a little about what goes on in this club.”
“It’s a club for fantasists, say you fantasised about… I don’t know; Cyn Deltrex.” She named a singer from Yonro. She was the latest media sensation, a heavily made-up, curvy poster babe for adolescents.
“Go on,” prompted Gaynor.
