Unless he’d seen Serenes traveling with Dr Remmell and decided that he could too.
What if he had managed to slip past his watchers and take the SlingShot? But how would he pay for it? Steal? And how would Moses break into her apartment? Moses had been a narcissistic lawyer with a fetish for gyms. He was smart, but not necessarily technically minded. But his MO fit these murders… Could he have worked with someone else? Could Moses have committed the crimes with someone else’s assistance? While someone else watched, maybe?
She thought of Dr Remmell then, of seeing him taking the SlingShot into the city. He was familiar with technology, with cameras and microphones… But so too was Bander. And Remmell always needed Bander to fix them for him.
Or was he just playing dumb?
The first chance at getting off the ladder was a metal grid walkway about three stories up. Bander stepped off and held his hand out to help her off. She eyed it, then took it. They moved around the walkway a few feet, where Bander wrenched opened a hatch. He looked back at her again. “Watch your step.”
Bander disappeared inside, and Salvi took a quick look around before following. The sun was close to setting, the sky falling dark, and she could no longer see the farm and vineyard grounds. She spotted her Zenith, still parked out front of the Complex, though, then ducked her head and stepped inside the hatch.
She immediately heard the thrum of a generator and saw the bright glow of the green BioLume below, and was hit again with that wet, mossy odor.
Salvi stepped to the railing and looked down to the bottom of the silo to see Edward Moses working at a control panel on the wall. She watched as he tapped away at the screen, accessing a software program.
Maybe Moses was more technically minded than she thought…
Had they taught him new skills here? She recalled Bander fixing the comms in the interview room. Had Bander taught him?
“Subjugate-52!” Bander called out.
Moses looked up at them. At her.
“Yes, Caretaker?” his deep, refined voice said.
“Come up here,” Bander ordered. “The detective wants to speak to you.”
“I’ll just finish programming the stir speed–”
“No. Now,” Bander ordered.
Salvi watched as Moses hesitated, then stepped back from the console, wiped his hands with a rag. “Yes, Caretaker.”
She turned her eyes to the large vat below, watching the large metal two-pronged stirrer spinning around, this way and that, keeping the BioLume in a state of constant movement, while more of the green sludge slowly dripped down from a large silver pipe that fed through the wall of the far side.
Moses moved toward a ladder which lead up from the ground to the walkway upon which they stood. He wiped his hands again, pausing a moment to watch the speed of the stirrer.
“Now!” Bander barked, smacking his baton on the metal railing, startling Salvi and Moses both.
“Yes, Caretaker,” Moses said, beginning the climb.
Salvi heard a tapping sound. She looked back to see Bander pacing behind her along the curve of the walkway, tapping the baton in his hand. She looked back to Moses. Saw he’d cleared the first floor, continuing his ascent.
She heard a familiar musical chime sound and saw Moses pause and look down at the red light pulsing through the beige cloth of his uniform.
“He’s due for his injection,” Bander told her. “MOVE IT!” he yelled at the Subjugate. Bander began to pace again, tapping his baton. “You don’t have long, Detective.”
“It won’t take long,” she told him. She turned her eyes to Moses again, climbing the ladder. What was she going to say to him? What was she going to ask him that would let her know that he had killed those women? Her mind switched to earlier that day on the street; of Holt pulling up to ask if she was OK, while she was talking with Pragge. She saw Moses approach, telling Subjugate-12 to come. She saw Pragge cower. Pictured him saying “bad man, bad man.” Saw him smacking his fist into his open palm.
Then she heard that tapping sound again.
The sound of Bander tapping the baton into his open palm.
A freeze seemed to roll through her body. She looked over her shoulder at his hands, saw the movements were not dissimilar to those Pragge had made to her. Bander paused and looked back at her.
“What?”
She looked down to his feet. Wondered what size he was. Wondered if it had been his boot that had left BioLume prints in Sharon Gleamer’s basement, on Rebecca Carson’s back, on Carly Fresner’s carpet.
“Did you ever come across Rebecca Carson in U-Stasis?” she asked.
“What?” He furrowed his brow.
“The second victim,” she said turning around. “She had a U-Stasis account. Did you ever come across her in there?”
“No. Why?”
She shrugged. “You said you ran into Sharon Gleamer there.”
Bander’s stare froze on her face. “So?”
“Did you know Carly Fresner?”
Bander didn’t answer.
“She was a prostitute,” Salvi continued. “You ever call on her for services?”
Bander stepped forward casually and Salvi subtly pressed her forearm against her gun for reassurance. Silence sat between them; the only sound interrupting it was the footsteps of Edward Moses getting closer.
Bander brushed past her, looked over the railing.
“Go back down,” he told Subjugate-52.
Moses looked up at him. “I’m sorry?”
“Go. Back. Down,” he said.
“What are you doing?” Salvi asked Bander. “I want to talk to him.”
“Well, you lost your chance,” Bander said. “It’s too late.”
“Too late for what?”
Bander stared at her. “I don’t like your tone, Detective. I’m trying to do you a favor, risking my job, and all you’re doing is demanding stuff.”
She gave him a challenging look. “Perhaps I should be asking you these questions instead of Subjugate-52?”
“Questions about what?” He tapped his baton into his open palm.
She glanced back down at Moses, who had begun to descend again. “Subjugate-52!” she called.
Moses paused and looked up at her, his silver halo shining under the silo’s artificial lights, the red of his personal alarm splashing in his face.
“Did Subjugate-12 ever tell you who the bad man was?” she asked.
Moses stared back at her, and the instant his eyes shifted to rest on Bander, she knew.
She turned back to the caretaker, one hand ready to go for her gun, one ready for her iPort.
Her iPort!
It was still on her bed where she’d thrown it after Mitch’s call.
“What the hell are you playing at?” Bander asked her.
She stared at Bander and nodded to herself. “You used to work at a security company. You’re comfortable with technology, going into places like U-Stasis, hacking into the secure areas. You know how to bypass alarms, break into people’s houses, don’t you? People’s apartments.”
“Excuse me?”
“Were you pissed that the geeky Tobias managed to score a babe like Sharon Gleamer and you couldn’t?” she asked him.
Bander stared at her.
“You saw Sharon in U-Stasis, her and Tobias doing unholy things and you figured she was up for some, didn’t you?” Salvi said. “But she wasn’t. Not with you. Not even in virtual reality, let alone reality.”
“I’d be careful with your accusations if I were you, Detective.”
“You mentioned a dating section of U-Stasis. Is that where you met Rebecca Carson? But she turned you down too, didn’t she?” Salvi pushed. “What about the prostitute? Her I don’t get.”
“The dead whore?” he asked, his face suddenly flat, his eyes cold.
“Her name was Carly Fresner.”
“What would I know about whores?” he said. “Maybe that’s a question you could help with.”
Bander said nothing, just stared at her.
She nodded to herself again. “But I didn’t. And then last night you watched me have sex with Mitch. You’ve taken it personally, haven’t you? Another woman rejecting you for someone else.” She had to keep talking, had to keep pushing buttons to see if he would lower his guard and give her the evidence she needed to make an arrest. “I see why you like to get away from the Complex on your days off. Because here in Bountiful, you just can’t shake the stink of this place from you, can you? The criminals you spend your day with. The means you use, daily, to keep them in line. It makes people, women, uncomfortable. They don’t want anything to do with you.”
Bander still didn’t speak, but she saw his chest rising and falling with more vigor, a sparkle to those cold eyes. A hunter watching his prey, wanting to strike.
“You’re a violent man, Caretaker,” she said. “A frustrated, violent man, who is used to applying force to get what he wants. Submission. Obeisance.”
“Trying to pin these murders on me?” He smiled, running the baton up and down the callused palm of his hand. “Really? You’re that desperate?”
Salvi smiled back. “You’ve spent too long with these criminals, haven’t you, Bander? Listening to their gory stories, meting out the torture and violence to desensitize them to the excitement of their crimes. But in the process, you have become desensitized to the violence and the torture, haven’t you? With every beating you gave, with every form of torture you inflicted upon them. It became second nature to you. The violence no longer bothered you. It seemed normal. And you became comfortable watching the images of sexual violence shown during the Subjugates’ PPG therapy. Comfortable, then eventually turned on by it. Until one day you realize that it takes more than normal to get you off now. You need to up the ante to feel something. And the frustration. Oh, the frustration that these seemingly good little girls in town won’t sleep with you. Won’t go near you. They’ll sleep with everyone else but not you. Well, you showed them, didn’t you? You proved your dominance. You made them submit, you made them obey you.”
“I’d watch your mouth if I were you,” he said quietly, tapping the baton in his hand again.
“Or what?” she challenged. “You’ll make me the fourth victim? That’s your plan, right? That’s why you broke into my apartment and wrote ‘pure’ on my bed. Well, I’m not like those other women, Bander. I’m a cop… And you’re under arrest.”
“Yeah?” he said nonchalantly. “And where’s your proof? All I hear is a lot of hot air from a slut detective who’s admitted to sleeping with her partner when she should’ve been reporting him and investigating this case.”
“What shoe size are you?” she asked, unable to hide the menace in her voice.
Bander stared at her, eyes colder than ice, jaw rigid with hate.
She smiled. “I wonder how many shoes you own that have BioLume caught in the tread? I wonder if your DNA will match the semen we found in Sharon’s basement?”
Bander gave a quiet laugh, nodding to himself. He scratched his head, muttering. “Ah, you’re just like the rest of ’em.” He looked back at her. “A fucking little whore.”
He lunged.
Salvi dodged his swinging arm, hearing the baton slam down hard on the side of the railing. She pulled her gun and swung it up, but the baton came smashing back down hard against her forearm. She yelled in pain and dropped the gun. Bander kicked it away, then grabbed her and threw her back against the railing. She thrust her arms out in defense, trying to fight him back as pain sliced down her arm telling her it was potentially broken. He pressed his weight and the baton against her neck, bending her right back over the railing.
“You fucking bitch!” he hissed, veins popping angrily in his neck. “You think you’re so smart, huh? You think you’re better than me? I deal with Subjugates every single day. Hardened, murdering fucking criminals, and they don’t beat me! But you think you can, huh?” He eased off the baton a moment, only to land a hard punch in her face. As her head was flung back she caught a dazed glimpse of Edward Moses, frozen on the ladder where’d she stopped him before. He stared up at them, one leg hooked through the ladder, red light flashing at his chest, eyes uncomprehending about what was happening.
Bander pulled her off the railing. “You think I give a shit about you?” he said. “You think I would actually lower myself to fuck a whore like you? Huh? I saw you last night, you pathetic bitch. A stupid little girl crying over her dead whore sister!”
Salvi kneed him hard in the groin and he buckled, then she thrust the palm of her good hand into his throat, pushing him back. He coughed and splattered, then swung the baton again and it caught her good arm, near the shoulder. She groaned in pain as the baton came flying again. She got both hands around his wrist, trying to hold the baton back, but he was strong, and one arm of hers was fractured and weak, despite the adrenaline coursing through it.
He roared, ramming her back into the railing again.
“You think I would fuck you? Huh?” he said. “No.” He smiled through gritted teeth, then dragged her over to the gap in the railing were the ladder was. She fought him, lashing out, trying to hit his nose, his eyes, then finally dug her nails into his neck and scraped her hand down his skin. He yelled in pain and she smiled at him.
“Thanks for the evidence,” she said.
Bander’s eyes went wide, then he suddenly let her go and stepped back. She latched onto the edge of the railing to stop herself from falling backward through the gap, panting, darting a glance at Moses, still paused on the ladder below, looking up at them.
Bander raised his hand to his neck and saw the blood on his fingers. He stared at her, mind ticking over, then he suddenly straightened again.
She darted her eyes to her gun. It was on the floor over by the wall. Too far. He would get to her before she could grab it.
“There was nothing I could do,” Bander said to her, his face suddenly soft and boyish.
She stared at him.
“I did everything I could,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
He stepped toward her. “I told her no, sent her away, but she didn’t listen,” he said, shaking his head. His face fell serious. “She found Edward Moses in Silo 6, accidentally locked herself inside with him.” He stepped forward again, his eyes suddenly dark and soulless again. “She pushed him too hard. Just kept pushing him. And he lost control.” He said, voice devoid of emotion.
“Bander, it’s over,” she warned.
“There was nothing I could do,” he said, stopping within reach of her, “to stop him from killing you.”
And with a hard shove, he caused Salvi to lose her grip and she went flying backward off the walkway.
One moment Salvi was rushing through the air, the next she felt a jarring pain in her ankle; her body abruptly stopped, slammed into the railing and bounced off, then she felt a soft wet feeling on her fingers. She heard a whoosh, felt air rush past her face, and saw a large metal stirrer had just skimmed past her.
It took her a moment to realize what had happened. She looked down to see herself hanging over the large vat of BioLume; her face barely a meter above the surface, her hands immersed in the bright green bacteria. A drop of blood fell from her nose and disappeared within the green glow. She heard a strained groan.
Dazed, she looked upward and saw Edward Moses leaning back from the ladder by his knees, her legs caught in his strong, straining, grasp.
“It’s alright, Detective,” he said, breathing calmly. “I’ve got you.”
Salvi heard a low guttural laugh and glanced up further to the top floor. Bander stood looking down over the railing.
He smiled darkly. “She’s all yours, Edward Moses. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Then he disappeared from sight, taking his laughter with him, and they heard the hatch of the silo close.
Edward Moses groaned and heaved, pulling Salvi up onto the first-floor walkway. She caught her breath, her BioLumed fingers clinging to the metal grating of the floor, glad to be on flat ground.
“Are you alright, Detective?” Moses asked, kneeling on the dim walkway in front of her, the red light of his silent alarm flashing in his face.
She grasped at her ankle. “It’s not sitting right.”
“I am sorry. The force of my catching you may have slightly dislocated it,” he said. “May I look, Detective?”
Salvi eyed him, swallowed, then nodded. Moses took her ankle and rolled it around gently, making her gasp. Then with a quick, forceful movement, she heard a click and felt her ankle sitting right again. Salvi reached for it, eyes wide, exhaling through the shock of it.
“H-how did you know how to do that?” she asked.
Moses seemed to think for a moment, a slight look of confusion in his eyes. “I don’t really know.”
Salvi stared at him. Even with his Serene-like qualities now, she still saw the imposing criminal he once was. The lawyer, the gym fiend. Maybe that was why he knew how to fix her ankle. Maybe he’d injured himself a time or two before in his gym days. Grateful as she was that he had put her ankle back in place, she wondered if this was how he’d found his victims; coming to the rescue of a woman in the gym with an injury. Perhaps helping her home…
“You were fighting with the caretaker,” he said. “He hit you. Why?”
“We need to get out of here, Subjugate-52,” she said firmly.
“Of course. Can you walk?”
The Subjugate Page 33
