The Fox, the Dog, and the King

by Matt Doyle

  “As I said, Miss Tam, Mr. Fuerza and New Hopeland’s finest do not see eye to eye. Given the opportunity, they may simply wish to use insubstantial evidence as a means to capture Mr. Fuerza rather than the actual culprit. You, on the other hand, understand how this works. The police, in particular, must be seen to be standing in the light, even if they are in truth as veiled in shadows as the rest of us. You are in the unique position whereby you stand equally in both light and dark and do not attempt to hide this. You may not know what the big picture is in this case, Miss Tam, but you know there is one.”

  Ouch. Well, that kinda hurts. I’m no angel, but I’m not half demon either. Fine, let’s fire back but keep things moving anyway . “I don’t know. No offence, but Fuerza isn’t exactly the biggest fish in the pond.”

  “No, but he is a bigger fish than Mr. Castleford.” He pauses for a moment, then asks, “Were you able to retrieve your client’s dog unharmed?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I was.”

  “I see. In that case, your involvement with Mr. Castleford is technically at an end. Perhaps then, a different tack is required. If you are willing to ensure that Mr. Castleford is brought to justice, then I can personally guarantee three things. One, you will be allowed to proceed with the case as you see fit. Two, you will have our resources at your disposal as already detailed. And three, providing you do not intentionally falter in the overall goal, Mr. Fuerza will match your previous client’s fee or provide a higher figure if more suitable, irrespective of whether we end up having to take more drastic actions.”

  If I’m being honest, I would have gone ahead with hunting down Castleford anyway. I won’t tolerate cruelty to animals. As much as I hate to admit it, the extra money would be good too, even if it means officially throwing in with Fuerza for a while. “Fine.” I groan. “Give me some time to find out what the police are up to, and I’ll call you back when I know what I need. The number you’re calling from isn’t withheld, is it?”

  “It is; however, I can message you the details. The phone is a burner and will be out of commission at the conclusion of your employment.”

  “True. In the meantime, keep an eye out for Castleford, but don’t act until I’m ready to do something about it.”

  “Very well, Miss Tam. We will be in touch.”

  Sunglasses hangs up and within seconds I receive a message confirming the number for the cell he’s using. I don’t have a clue what could be so important that Allen Fuerza of all people would want me on board for this. All I know for sure is that he is an idiot, and Castleford is an unknown quantity. “Better the Devil you know.” I sigh and start hunting for a tie.

  In the end, I decide on one of my older ones. Much like most of my collection, it’s a shiny black with a solid black design embossed on it, barely visible unless you get up close. This one has two bats crossing in the air. It’s an odd-looking design, but there’s a reason for picking it. The Chinese word for bat is pronounced the same as the word for good fortune. In folklore, one bat means good luck, and two means doubly good luck. I’m not as superstitious as some of my family, but I get the feeling I’m gonna need a lot of luck to pull this off. Especially as I’m about to test the big fish, bigger fish theory.

  I hit the speed dial for the station and the phone rings twice before someone answers, “New Hopeland PD.”

  “Hey. Can I speak to Lieutenant Hanson?”

  “Uh…she’s just heading towards the door. Who’s calling?”

  “Cassie Tam. It’s about the dogfight.”

  “Ah, the raid yesterday. Hold on.”

  I hear the familiar scrape of a hand covering the receiver, and the nameless desk jockey starts shouting something in the background. It’s muffled, but I can just about make out my name being yelled twice. Eventually, Hanson comes on the line and asks, “Cassie? Is this important? I’m just about to head out on…something.”

  “Fuerza just hired me to make sure Castleford is arrested.”

  “Shit.” Hanson sighs. “Hang on.”

  Hanson says something to the first guy and, after a moment, the phone beeps and Hanson comes back on. “Okay, I’m at my desk. What’s going on?”

  “Fair trade. I’ll tell you the latest, then I need to know why you’re heading to Fuerza’s.”

  “That obvious, huh? Fine, fine. What’ve you got?”

  “Fuerza’s certain that whatever you find on Castleford’s gear will be easily disproven. He’s worried that, once that comes to light, Castleford is going to get desperate and spill the reason he’s trying to frame him. No, before you ask, I still don’t know what it is Castleford dug up, but Fuerza clearly doesn’t want it getting out. The guy I’ve been speaking to thinks it would be better for everyone if they didn’t know.”

  “Which makes it clear that Fuerza’s hiding something.”

  “And so is every other crook in the city. Fuerza is running scared, though. He doesn’t want Castleford to have the chance to spread whatever he has to the rest of the Underground, and he doesn’t want the PD to decide he’s worth more behind bars than the accountant and just act on Castleford’s files without acknowledging that they can be disproven.”

  “He is, Cassie.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Fuerza. He is worth more behind bars than Castleford. When did you last hear of Fuerza doing time?”

  I think about that for a moment and say, “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Because he hasn’t ever been convicted. He’s on the lowest rung of the criminal food chain, yet he’s never been sent down. Usually, you have to be a lot better connected to manage that, but he seems to have gotten by simply by not getting caught in anything big enough to warrant us swarming him. Even his hitmen-for-hire racket is such a joke that no one’s gonna take it seriously. That’s the problem. What you’ve just said makes it sound like we might finally be able to dig something up to justify getting him off the streets.”

  “But that wasn’t why you were going there, was it? What did you turn up on Castleford’s files?”

  Hanson laughs and says, “A deal’s a deal. Do you know what onion routing is?”

  “Yeah, we covered it at the academy. One message gets sent, and each time it reaches its destination, a layer is stripped away, leaving the instructions as to where to send it next. It was an old system designed to mask recipients, but it’s not untraceable.”

  “Right. Don’t knock it being an old system, though, it’s still widely used. Anyway, the messages Castleford received were put through the onion routing system, and traffic reports point to them originating from a computer in Fuerza’s building. But like you said yourself, having the message printed out and waiting for us was too tidy. We had one of the Monitoring Office guys take a look at the message.”

  “The GMO, huh? And what did they say?”

  “There are indicators that the message was auto-generated. To prove it, we need access to the machine that sent the message. To be honest with you, Cassie, the plan was to grab what we need and go hunting for Castleford. While I’d love to have an excuse to take Fuerza in, if for no other reason than that his turn is long overdue, the GMO involvement means that we can’t just ignore the evidence.”

  “If you’re that set on Fuerza, you could have just accepted the print out as a slip-up.”

  “Nah, you know me. I get the idea of the right result not always being the accurate one, but unless it’s something major, I’ll stick with the truth. The thing is, from what you’ve said, there’s a lot more going here. But I doubt we’ll dig that up on his systems. The problem now is how we approach it going forward. If this really is as big as Fuerza’s making out, at least for him , Castleford going public could cause some major chaos. I doubt anyone would care about our favourite wannabe crime lord getting shut down, but…” She sighs. “We did some digging and you were right about him being busy. If he sells out Fuerza, there are a lot of people in a lot of different places who are going to start panicking that he’s gonna do the same to t
hem.”

  Time to take the lead, Cassie . “Is there any way you could check the auto-generated thing without physically taking Fuerza’s computer away?”

  Hanson clicks her tongue. “Well, we know what we’re looking for now. I guess I could bring a tech guy with me, but that wouldn’t be the normal procedure. Why?”

  “Think of it as a gesture of goodwill. I can get Fuerza to let you take a look at his stuff willingly, which will save you a lot of time and effort, but I doubt he’ll want it all taken away somewhere it can be tampered with. Letting him have someone present to make sure you’re only looking at what you need to will make him more likely to cooperate. Then, when you have your proof that Castleford set it all up…”

  “I put an APB out on him,” Hanson cuts in.

  “Not immediately.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “Fuerza thinks he’ll panic, remember? Look, Fuerza’s already got some guys looking for Castleford for me. I’ll get Castleford to the station, I promise, but if he hears that every cop in the state is after him, it increases the chances that he’ll either go public or disappear entirely.”

  “Cassie, if we get the evidence, then I can’t avoid putting the APB out unless we already have him in custody.”

  “Then don’t avoid it, delay it. Give me some time.”

  “Hold on,” Hanson replies, and her voice goes quiet as she speaks to someone else in the station. I barely make out something about how long the scans will take but can’t quite hear the response. Then, she brings the phone back to her mouth. “The techs say that, depending on how straightforward Fuerza’s systems are, it’ll take between one and three hours to get what we need. Speak to Fuerza, make sure he cooperates, and I’ll delay putting the APB out until I get back here. With travel and rearranging the team going with me, that gives you six hours, max. After that, we’ll be hitting every address you gave us.”

  “Deal. Thanks, Hanson.”

  “Don’t mention it. Just don’t be slow,” she says and hangs up.

  Chapter Eight

  “FINE,” FUERZA GRUNTS , his voice distorting slightly on the phone line. “I wouldn’t have had a problem with the police taking the machine, though. What would be the point? Or do you think I’d be stupid enough to leave important files on something so easy to access?”

  Read important as confirmation of illegal activity . “Yes,” I reply. “Yes, I do think you’d be that stupid.”

  I hear a sharp intake of breath over the receiver and smile. What can I say? Right now, Fuerza is using me as a gofer. Not only that, but my earlier conversation with Sunglasses made it quite clear that he likes to manipulate situations more than I gave him credit for. I reserve my right to torment anyone who thinks they can use me, even if they are paying me for the privilege. Time is ticking, though, so I continue, “That’s not why I told them you’d want the testing done on site. I’ve worked with Lieutenant Hanson before, and there was no way she was going to just give me free rein on this. Buying time was always going to be the best I could do and having her staying at the opposite end of the city from the station was the easiest way to maximise that.”

  Fuerza growls in frustration. “I don’t care what your reasons were, it’s going to be a pain in the ass having the cops crawling around here. If you weren’t the best option we had to avoid any other potential betrayals without bloodshed, then I’d…”

  “You’d what, Mr. Fuerza?” I cut in, putting a small snap in my voice.

  Fuerza takes a deep breath in and exhales slowly. The phone rattles and the next voice I hear belongs to Sunglasses. “Mr. Fuerza has left to take care of the necessary arrangements for our impending visit from Lieutenant Hanson and her team.”

  “He doesn’t like it when he’s not in control, does he?”

  “He does not take kindly to direct challenges, perhaps because he is aware of his standing in the New Hopeland hierarchy. Tell me, Miss Tam, if you were not aware of who Allen Fuerza is, would you still be so eager to antagonise him?”

  I frown. “What the hell kinda question is that?”

  “Let us call it a consideration for the future.”

  You, Sunglasses Paloma, are a strange one . “I guess it depends on what I did know. If all I knew was his job description and the hype he gives himself, maybe not. Unless he deserved it. Given that I’m half devil, though, who can tell.”

  “I see, so that is how you inferred my earlier statement. To clarify, Miss Tam, I am under no illusions as to your nature. You are not one of the Underground, not truly. I simply meant you are in a position that allows you to bridge the gap between both sides of the New Hopeland law system. You are not the only PI in the city, nor are you the only person positioned ethically on the side of the justice system who has worked alongside those who oppose it in some way. It is your standing, your accumulated results, and your rigid stance on your own moral beliefs that allows you to straddle both sides of the divide.”

  “Except I don’t recall working for any criminals before today.”

  “Trust me, Miss Tam. You have resolved cases for many that are under Fuerza’s control, though they themselves would never say so.”

  Well, that’s good to know. Maybe I should start background checking more of my clients. Let’s just try to get this over with . “We’re wasting time here. Have your guys had any luck in locating Castleford?”

  “Not as yet, though we haven’t checked the full list of potential hideouts yet.”

  “Are there any near me? I’m at my office right now.”

  He thinks for a moment then confirms, “Block thirteen, Faraday Mall is near to you, I believe. He often stops at the patisserie in that section of the complex. We have not sent anyone to look as yet, as he will be aware he is currently under suspicion. Unless he is given indication that he is no longer in such a predicament, we do not believe him likely to be relaxing with a cake at this time.”

  “Seems reasonable. The way he acted during the raid makes me think he knew it would happen, though. He’s arrogant enough to think his plan is foolproof. If I’m right about the raid, he might be banking on your thinking exactly that and be trying to hide in plain sight. Sitting around isn’t my style, so as you haven’t got anyone else there already, I’ll go check it out. If nothing else, it’ll give you another place to tick off the list.”

  “Very well. Will you require transportation? I understand you do not yourself drive.”

  “Nah, I’ll walk it. If I need to get anywhere further away, then I’ll see what I can arrange. From what you said, I’m as much an enemy as I am an ally to you guys, so I’d rather not risk finding out what you’d do if everything goes to Hell before I can catch Castleford.”

  “Paranoia,” Sunglasses says, labelling my habit with more admiration than I expected. “It’s more useful than those with simpler lives understand.”

  “Let me know if you find anything,” I say, avoiding getting into an unnecessary conversation. “If I need somewhere else to visit, I’ll call you.”

  I hang up and head back to my working clutter drawer. After a bit of rummaging, I pull out the photo of Castleford that Sunglasses supplied yesterday and glance over at the handgun resting next to the files. After his refusal to back down from the dog yesterday, I’m reluctant to take Bert into a large group of people. I understand why he acted the way he did, but insubordination at the wrong time won’t bode well for anyone. Besides, even on the off chance I do find Castleford, I should just be dealing with him this time. If things look like they’re gonna get out of hand, I have an emergency summoning command on my phone anyway.

  I check the gun is loaded, grab two spare cartridges, and head back into the living room area of the apartment. Gun laws are such that you see a lot of people carrying them these days, but it’s policed well enough that we rarely have any trouble. The general rules of thumb are that criminal record equals no gun licence and those carrying keep them holstered and covered but in clear sight. I start strapping my holster
to my belt and turn to my shiny little friend. “Hey, Bert. I’m gonna head to the mall. I need you to stay here for this one. D’ya think you can manage to not wreck the place while I’m out?”

  “Caw. Caw.”

  I roll my eyes and pat his shiny head. “That’s what I thought. If I run into trouble, I’ll call you in.”

  “Caw.”

  I nod and walk out of the office, locking the door behind me. If I call him, Bert’ll exit through the window. The only reason I’ve left all of them shut right now is I don’t want to risk him continuing his disobedience and following me. If I can put yesterday down to a single behavioural blip or a necessary overriding effect in his programming, that’s fine. Too many issues in a short space of time would mean another trip to the factory, though, and I’d rather not have to consider having his personality reset. He’s a cheeky, destructive little ball of spite at times, but I wouldn’t have him any other way.

  MOST PLACES I’VE visited have dedicated shopping streets that serve as haunts for the fashionable elite. They’re filled with overpriced representations of whatever we are, as a species, told we should like for the next five minutes. Malls, as a rule, tend to get the occasional outlet store for a big name brand but otherwise fill the clothing areas with a focus on the affordable. It’s different here, though. Maybe it’s the shiny exterior or the ever-changing digital advertising boards, but when New Hopeland’s Faraday Mall was built, the high-end retailers flocked like the magpies of European superstition, all eager to steal their little bit of sparkly store space. The result of that is that shoppers with more money in loose change than I have in my bank prowl the mall like foxes, as they try to decide which bird to throw themselves at.

  My grandfather once told me that magpies are good luck, so as much as the far-too-rich snobbery of the shoppers is making me wish I was in the founding era of the city when 90 percent of it was industrial, I’m keeping my hopes up. If Malcolm Castleford’s delusions of grandeur are enough to make him want to hang out with the upper classes of the city, then he may well be hiding out among the masses. So, I pull out the photo and show it to a woman who, from her expression, wasn’t aware that something as low class as physical paper still existed. “Excuse me, Madame, but I was wondering if you may have seen this man at all? His name is Malcolm Castleford and his presence is required at the police station.”