Very quietly Jake left the bed. He walked to the partially open doorway. One of the voices was Marj’s, the other was that of a young man. Jake couldn’t make out any actual words.
They sounded as though they were in the kitchen.
Slowly and silently, Jake dressed. When he picked up his shoulder holster to strap it on, he discovered that his stungun was missing.
He took time to search the bedroom for it, even though he didn’t expect to find the weapon there.
Easing out into the early morning hallway, Jake stood listening.
The murmured conversation was still going on. The young man sounded angry.
Jake walked to the kitchen and pushed the door open.
The yellow room was empty.
But he could still hear the voices.
He crossed to the open pantry door and looked in. At the back of it a wide panel stood open.
“... and the best news is, after all, that you’ll be able to kill Bennett Sands,” Marj was saying.
“That’s great, but did you have to sleep with that damned cop to find out?”
“Listen, nothing happened ... really. But I did have to get close to him,” she answered. “I knew he’d probably find out where Sands was hiding—and he did.”
“Hell, you could’ve located Bennett without the help of some over-the-hill gumshoe,” said the young man. “You found all the others for me.”
Moving to the opening, Jake looked in.
A short ramp led down to a brightly lit electronics laboratory. Marj, wearing a lab coat, was perched on one of the workbenches. Leaning against the opposite bench was a young man with a bushy moustache. His hair was short-cropped and he wore an earring made of a Brazilian coin.
“The important thing is that we’ve located Sands,” Marj persisted. “Now you have to get up to the Caribbean Colony and—”
“Good morning.” Jake entered the lab.
“Hello, Jake, I figured you’d find your way down here sooner or later,” said Marj, smiling. “I’d like you to meet my brother.”
Singing enthusiastically and banging on a drum, Gomez entered the Central Paris Subtrain Depot. He was clad in a long dark overcoat, a pulled-down cap, and a muffler that covered a good portion of his face. Two caroling androids, similarly attired, were marching in front of him and three followed behind.
The group halted on the platform for the Paris-London tunnel train. The first android, after adjusting his cap, set up a large glosign that proclaimed they were collecting funds for the International Salvation Army.
Gomez, as he whapped the drum, scanned the figures that were scattered along the platform. Passengers were boarding the compartment cars, friends, some of them yawning drowsily, were seeing them off.
Standing over near a lopsided soycaf kiosk was Timecheck. He was nibbling a croissant while consulting several of his built-in watches.
Gomez, moving away from his fellow carolers, sidled over to the young Chinese. “Spare a few francs for a worthy cause?” he inquired, holding out his palm.
“Do a swift scramola, buddy,” advised the informant.
“I’m glad my disguise is foolproof.” Gomez set down the drum. “Pretend to be forking over a charitable contribution.”
“Shit, Gomez, you’re seven minutes and thirteen seconds late.”
“Is Dr. Danenberg on board the train?”
“Yeah, the quiff got here, alone, twelve minutes ago.” Rolling down his sleeve, Timecheck began pretending to search his pockets. “Always glad to help a wonderful organization like yours, chum,” he said in a louder voice.
“That didn’t ring especially sincere. No matter.” Gomez looked around. “Have you spotted any goons or louts hereabouts?”
Timecheck shook his head. “Just the usual grifters, pimps, pickpockets, teleks, and con artists. Why?”
“Somebody tried to do me serious harm as I was departing my hotel.”
“You figure Dr. Danenberg arranged that?”
“She or her associates, sí.”
“Well, I haven’t seen any unusual thugs since I arrive here thirteen minutes and eight—make that nine seconds ago.”
Gomez nodded toward the waiting train. “What compartment is Dr. D. in?”
“Twenty-six C—two cars up.”
“I’m wondering if my already booked compartment is going to prove safe.”
“As I say, I haven’t noticed any pro killers hanging around. But, you know, to be on the safe side, maybe you should bunk with the other skirt.”
Gomez frowned. “What lady are you alluding to?”
“That reporter bimbo.”
“Natalie? Is Natalie Dent aboard this selfsame train?”
“She climbed aboard nine minutes and seventeen seconds ago.”
“She alone?”
“Far as I could tell.”
“I was hoping I’d ditched her.”
“She’s a smart cookie. That time I met her in Kyoto, she struck me as—”
“I’d best hop on the train,” said Gomez. “What room is Nat occupying?”
“Forty-two B—four cars up.”
“Return, por favor, the drum to my musical colleagues.”
“It’s heavy.”
“Bill me for the chore.”
“Okay. You only got one minute and twenty-three seconds before the train pulls out. You better hurry.”
Hurrying, Gomez entered the Paris-London Subtrain.
He stood in the corridor, trying to decide which compartment to go to.
30
“YOUR BROTHER, HUH?” JAKE took a few more steps across the laboratory floor. “I thought he was dead.”
“Do I look dead, asshole?” asked Richard Lofton.
“Richard, please,” said Marj in a gentle voice. “You go sit in your favorite chair while Jake and I talk.”
“Sis, I’m not a goddamn kid. You don’t have to treat me like—”
“Darling, please.”
“Okay, but there’s no need to nag my butt off.” Shoulders hunched, he shuffled to a high-back wicker chair and dropped into it.
Jake said to the young woman, “So you didn’t give up robotics?”
“I started working on him nearly two years ago,” she said, one leg swinging back and forth as she sat on the edge of the lab table. “In my spare time, originally just to take my mind off all the dreadful stuff I was running into working for the Welfare Squad.”
“How close a sim is he?”
“Oh, he’s Richard,” she answered. “Richard, that is, as he was just before he died. Well, no. Actually, he’s spruced up a bit, since he was in pretty bad shape by then.”
“Hey, I’m sitting right here in the same goddamn room,” reminded the android. “I’m hearing all this, you know.”
“Yes, but you needn’t be upset,” she told the replica of her dead brother. “Richard was in his early twenties when he was killed. He’ll always be in his early twenties.”
Jake leaned against the lab table that faced hers. “Killed in a Brazil War?”
“Richard fought in the last one, but he survived.”
“Survived? Survived, my ass,” said her brother. “I was screwed up beyond recognition by that damn war. Shit, I turned into a Tekhead. It wasn’t my fault, lots of guys tried Tek down there. You could just hook up to your Brainbox and pretend the fucking war had never happened.”
“No one is criticizing you, dear,” she assured him. “After a while, needing money badly and not wanting to borrow from me, he—”
“I did try to borrow from you, sis, and you cut me off. You told me, ‘No more dough for Tek dreams.’ ”
“I think you misunderstood what I was trying to—”
“Sure, I misunderstood. That’s why I took a job with Bennett and worked at one of his rural Tek factories in Brasilia.”
Marj said, “Bennett Sands ... She paused, shaking her head. “He somehow got the idea that my brother intended to double-cross him by selling information to a ri
val cartel.”
“That guy’s a real bastard,” added Richard. “He didn’t even, you know, give me a chance to explain. Had five of his thugs—and it took five to handle me—had them drag my poor ass out into the jungle and kill me. You know how they did it?”
“Dear, you needn’t upset yourself by discussing—”
“It doesn’t bother me now. Those greaseballs cut me into pieces with lazguns,” explained her brother. “Sliced me into quarters. My guts spilled out all over the ground and you should’ve seen the fucking insects and animals that came out to feed on me.”
“That’s enough, Richard.”
He folded his arms, shut his eyes, and leaned back in the creaking chair.
Marj said, “I got the notion—oh, several months ago, this was—that it would be fun to use this replica of Richard to kill Bennett Sands.”
“Sounds like fun, yeah.”
“But, Jake,” she said, smiling at him, “mostly because of you, Sands was arrested and stuck away in a maximum security prison in NorCal. I couldn’t think of any way to get at him.”
“Is that when you decided to kill the others?”
“Actually, Jake, I’d made up a tentative list even before I started working on Richard,” she told him. “Sands’ name obviously led all the rest. When I realized, however, that he might well be permanently unavailable, we decided to go after the rest of them.”
“How,” inquired Jake, “did they earn a position on your list?”
“Richard and I decided to kill everyone responsible for his death.”
“That was just Bennett Sands,” said Jake, “and his hired hands, wasn’t it?”
“If I hadn’t been talked into joining the damn army,” explained Richard, “if those political bastards hadn’t lied about what was really going on down there—”
“Don’t make yourself uneasy, Richard. I can tell him.”
“And the fucking Teklords. Got me hooked, then some of them set me up and made it look as though I’d screwed Bennett.”
Jake asked her, “How many names are on your list?”
“We have a few more to cross off yet.” She smiled faintly.
“But Bouchon wasn’t one of your targets?”
“Those assholes, whoever they are,” complained Richard, “are trying to set me up again.”
“Three of the killings, including the murder of your client’s husband, were poor imitations of the Unknown Soldier’s methods and style,” Marj said. “I’m really surprised that the international police authorities have been taken in.”
Jake boosted himself up, sitting on the edge of his lab table. “You got to know me because I might lead you to Sands.”
“Ever since I heard he’d been transferred to England, I’d been keeping close track of him,” she replied. “Then, when Beth phoned and suggested that I help you out—well, that seemed an enormous piece of luck for us. I realized you’d probably be crossing paths with him, since you were tracking down his missing daughter. Yes, I’m afraid that’s why I volunteered to be your guide.”
“And why we slept together.”
“That’s a bit more complicated,” she said. “But basically I wanted to decoy you here.”
“That whole business was stupid,” put in her brother. “You didn’t need him to find Bennett for us. Christ, we always find them, just the two of us. We never needed help from outside the family or—”
“We don’t agree on this, Richard, but there’s no reason to argue. Especially in front of company.”
Jake said, “Marj, I’m going to make a pretty obvious comment now. Something, I’m certain, you must’ve thought about while—”
“I’m not insane,” she assured him. “And, yes, I have considered the possibility. Very thoroughly.”
“Building a machine to kill people, sending it out to check victims off a list,” he said, “isn’t exactly something a—”
“Jake, it’s done all the time,” she pointed out. “Your Teklord friends, for instance, use kamikaze androids. Many governments, including our own here in England, have several projects in the works that—”
“Be that as it may, you have to stop.”
“I’m afraid I can’t. Not until Richard and I have finished what we agreed to do.”
“Richard didn’t agree to anything,” Jake said evenly. “He’s been dead for years.”
“I told you, sis, this guy isn’t worth talking to.”
“Suppose you phone Beth,” suggested Jake. “Talk to her about this. She’s a friend of yours and—”
“Jake, I don’t need any advice, nor even a shoulder to cry on.” Marj slipped her right hand into a pocket of her smock. “We intend to take care of Bennett Sands.”
Jake said, “I’ll take care of him.”
“You’ll just turn him over to the law,” said Richard, leaving his chair. “They’ll put him back into another fancy lockup.”
“It’s very important that Sands, as did the others, die in a certain way,” she told Jake. “He has to see Richard before he’s killed and realize who he is. That’s the whole point.”
“Marj, this whole—”
“I borrowed your stungun, Jake.” She produced it from her pocket.
“Before you—”
She shot him.
31
NATALIE DENT, ARMS FOLDED, knees pressed tight together, was glowering across her train compartment at Gomez. “Several years ago, when I was somewhat more innocent and naive than at present,” she was saying to the curly-haired detective, “I, being, as I say, naive and innocent, brought home a stray mutt. He was a pathetic, sickly creature and the look in his dim, watery little eyes was very much like the sappy expression you assume whenever you’re trying to wheedle and cajole some outrageous favor out of me or—”
“Halt the flow of autobiography for a sec, princesa.” He was using her vidphone.
The reporter’s nose wrinkled. “The moral of this particular anecdote is—”
“Hush up, por favor.”
A gleaming, ballheaded robot had reappeared on the phonescreen. “I’m sorry, sir,” it told him, “but Mr. Cardigan is not in his room here at the Crystal Palace Hotel. Nor has he left any message for a Mr. Pollino.”
“Okay, gracias.”
“Your name isn’t Pollino,” mentioned Natalie.
“It’s simply one of the code names that Jake and I use when—”
“Little-boy stuff,” observed Natalie, unfolding her arms, scratching the tip of her faintly freckled nose, and refolding her arms.
“Have I told you, florita, how much I appreciate your allowing me to enjoy the sanctuary of your quarters whilst we wend our underwater way to London?”
“Sanctuary, at least as it’s most frequently defined in most of the civilized sections of the globe, rarely includes phone privileges,” she pointed out. “On top of which, Gomez, you ate most of my breakfast.”
“That’s what teamwork is all about, Nat,” he informed her. “Sharing.”
“You mean the way you shared your information on what Dr. Danenberg was up to?”
“But you did, as I well knew you would, get on the doctor’s trail. And fate, which seems to be looking after us, did indeed bring us together once more.” He held up his hand in a stop-now gesture. “A couple more quick calls, chiquita, and I should have all sorts of new info to share with you.”
“He messed on my thermorug, too, causing the darn thing to short-circuit,” she said. “Then he bit my ankle.”
“Whom are we discussing?”
“That stray puppy I was telling you about, Gomez, the one I foolishly took in out of a rainstorm,” she answered. “He looked, especially around the eyes, a great deal like you.”
“Well, the misguided attribution of human qualities to the lower animals can screw you up.” He punched out another number on her vidphone.
The screen remained dark, but a raspy voice said, “London’s fashionable Hotel Marryat. Yeah?”
“Mr
s. Humphry Ward, if you please.”
“Who’s calling?”
“Tell her Sid.”
Natalie unfolded her arms and crossed her legs. “That’s a dippy name—Mrs. Humphry Ward.”
“An alias.”
“Gomez, my love, how the bloody hell are you?” inquired a throaty woman’s voice. The screen was still blank.
“Muy bien, Mrs. W. And you?”
“Can’t complain, Sid. How may I be of assistance?”
Gomez nodded at the screen. “A Dr. Hilda Danenberg is, as we speak, en route to your fair city,” he explained. “See if you can find out what she’s planning to do over the next day or so. The lady’s linked with a few Tek cartels, I believe, and with the Excalibur Movement.”
“Those loons.”
“I’ll contact you after I arrive in London.”
“You’re coming here, too, my love?”
“I am, sí.”
“We’ll have to hoist a few.”
“If time permits, bonita. We’re paying the usual fee, by the way. Adiós.”
“He ate my canary, too,” said Natalie.
“Stray dogs will do that,” said Gomez, making another call.
London was slightly warmer than Paris. Gomez was able to turn his thermocoat down a notch and that kept it from smoldering.
Alone now, though obligated to join Natalie for tea that afternoon, he was roaming the city. His concern was growing since he hadn’t been able as yet to find any trace of Jake.
Gomez had just called on Arthur Bairnhouse at the Hewitt Inquiry Agency and was experiencing mixed feelings. The operative he’d arranged for when he’d phoned from the tubetrain had picked up Dr. Danenberg’s trail at the London station and followed her to the flat she was using near Regent’s Park. It was gratifying to know where she was at the moment, but he was also anxious to locate his partner.
The pink-faced Bairnhouse had told him about Jake’s intention to venture into the gangzone of London in search of Dan and of Nancy Sands. Bairnhouse hadn’t heard from Jake since then and had no notion where he might be.
Whistling absently, Gomez crossed Piccadilly Circus, turned onto a quirky lane, and entered the Phantom Ship Pub.
TekLab Page 15
