Brave New World

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Brave New World Page 18

by David Archer


  Joel grinned back. “Well, with the chip being a big secret, we couldn't exactly tell the reporters the truth. Our marketing department came up with a cover story, that what was stolen was part of the artificial nerves project. That’s got a whole new interest going, and all of a sudden there’s a whole lot of smaller companies that want to partner up. They make some good prosthetics of their own, but their interfacing hasn’t been as good as ours, so with all the hype and press about our artificial nerves, we’re getting inquiries that might prove pretty good for everyone.”

  Sam looked at him. “Is that normal in this field? Collaborations and partnerships like that?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Joel said. “Some of our best ideas didn’t originate inside C-Link, but grew out of something we picked up during a joint project or an acquisition. That’s how it goes in high-tech, nowadays. Look at Google; they did alright for a startup search engine, but then they started buying up smaller companies that were going in directions that Larry Page thought might go along with things he wanted to do. He didn’t just copy other companies; he looked for areas where there wasn't already someone taking care of the customers and then expanded into those vacuums by acquiring or partnering with other companies who were able to help that expansion.”

  “Then we ought to be looking at all C-Link’s partner companies. Can you get me a list of them?”

  Joel grinned and closed his eyes. Fifteen seconds later, Sam’s printer began to purr and his computer’s email program chimed. Joel opened his eyes and looked at him.

  “I emailed it to you, but I thought you might want a hard copy, as well, so I sent it to your printer.”

  Sam took the two sheets of paper from the printer and looked at them. There were only seven companies listed, but Joel had included a lot of information about each of them. Sam read about their origins, histories, their normal lines of R&D, and the areas in which they worked with C-Link. He leaned close to his computer and immediately forwarded the email to Indie, along with a note asking her to review them for any signs of suspicious activities regarding BCI.

  *

  Jonathan Landry walked into his office that morning and didn’t even bother to speak to his secretary. His associate attorney noticed that he seemed a bit off, and tapped on his door a moment later.

  “Come in,” Landry said.

  Edward Barrows, his oldest friend and ally, entered the office and closed the door behind him, then took a good look at his boss’s bloodshot eyes.

  “Jon? You feeling all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” Landry said. “Just had a rough night.” He forced a grin. “She was a bit more woman than I was prepared for, you might say.”

  Edward smiled. “I keep telling you, Jon, you need to find one and settle down. Jumping from one to another all the time is not good for you, especially with all the STDs out there. That’s why I married Janey, so I wouldn't have to go hunting all the time.”

  “The hunt is what it’s all about,” Landry said. “At least, it was. I don’t know, Ed, I may have met my match last night. She was—I can’t even find the words.”

  “Sounds like maybe you need to work at this one, then. It’d be nice to see you happily married. Maybe a few rugrats running around. Life got a lot better when we had Britney.”

  Landry kept the fake grin in place. “I’ll definitely be seeing her again. Go on, Ed, I've got work to do this morning, and a client coming in a couple hours from now. I need to get myself ready.”

  “No problemo,” Edward said. He slipped out the door with his smile in place, but it faded as soon as the door closed behind him. Something wasn't right with Jon, and he could tell. Not that he could do anything about it, but he had always felt a bit protective of the boss. The guy was a genius at making the firm money, and he had been hinting that Edward might make partner one day soon. Couldn’t let anything happen to the meal ticket.

  The morning began, with Edward’s own first client showing up just then. He smiled as he led Mrs. Davenport to his office, listening to her latest complaints about her soon-to-be ex-husband. This divorce was going be worth about eighty million, and the firm stood to collect almost ten, so he listened with almost sincere sympathy.

  Landry did have an appointment that morning, at ten-thirty, but he had a walk-in about ten minutes before the client arrived. A tall man came into the lobby and looked around, then turned to the receptionist. “Where is Mr. Landry?” he asked.

  Stephanie, the receptionist, glanced automatically at the big oaken door that led to Landry’s office, then looked back at the newcomer.

  “I’m afraid he’s busy at the moment, and he has an appointment scheduled in just a few minutes. Can I help you with something?”

  “No,” the man said, and Stephanie didn’t even have time to scream. The man’s coat pocket jutted forward and the silenced pistol hidden inside coughed once. Stephanie went over backward with a hole in her forehead. Her chair hit the wall, and Landry called out from his office.

  “Stephanie? Everything okay out there?”

  The man removed the gun from his pocket, opened the door Stephanie had looked at and fired from just outside it. His second shot took Landry in his right eye, and somehow the lawyer sat where he was for a second or two, seemingly staring at the man who had just killed him. It was only an illusion, though, because his face fell forward and collapsed onto his desk. Blood spilled out of the eye socket and ran down the side of his head from the gaping hole at the back, pooling around what was left of his face.

  The killer pulled the door shut and turned, then put the pistol back into his pocket, walked out of the offices, and through the main door into the hallway. He was already down the elevator and walking out of the building when Edward and Mrs. Davenport came out, finally finishing up with her preparations for the next phase of the proceedings, and they saw Stephanie lying on the floor behind her desk in a pool of her own blood.

  Edward shoved the old woman back into his office and drew the pistol he always carried. He made his way carefully through the other door and found Landry. When he was sure no one else was in the suite, he grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911.

  “911, what is your emergency?” he heard.

  “This is Edward Barrows at Landry and Associates. I've got two people here who look to be dead from gunshot wounds. One of them is Jonathan Landry.”

  Police began arriving only two minutes later, and the paramedics got there a minute after they did. There was nothing they could do for either victim, of course, so they called for the ME and simply stayed there to keep watch and make sure the bodies weren’t disturbed.

  The police were interviewing Edward and Mrs. Davenport, and they seemed to be having a hard time believing that neither of them heard any gunshots. The wounds suggested a large-bore handgun, and that would mean an extremely large silencer to keep the noise below the level of a firecracker. Still, both of them insisted they’d heard nothing and were shocked when they’d seen the receptionist’s body.

  And then the news crews showed up. Landry’s moment of fame a few days earlier, when Rebecca McGill allegedly assaulted him and stole his gun, meant that most of them recognized his name on the scanners. Once the ME arrived, the power of the press moved in.

  *

  Jade was due to arrive at eleven, and Summer had driven to the airport to pick her up. She had the stereo in the Caddy cranked up, tapping the steering wheel in time to the hip-hop beat of the song that was playing, when the music suddenly stopped.

  We interrupt our regular programming to bring you this special news bulletin. Police have just confirmed that prominent San Francisco attorney Jonathan Landry has been murdered. Landry and his receptionist were found shot to death in his offices just a short time ago, and police are on the scene. Landry was recently the victim of an assault by the widow of a former client, Rebecca McGill, who is still being sought for questioning in that incident and may be a suspect in this morning’s shootings. Stay tuned to this station for f
urther developments. We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

  Summer’s eyes bugged out as she stared at the radio, and it was only when a car horn made her look up that she realized she had drifted into oncoming traffic. She whipped the car back into her own lane and shook her head. There was no doubt in her mind that Landry was dead because of his involvement with her the night before, but she had done everything she could to make sure no one knew what they’d talked about, and she couldn't believe that he would be stupid enough to tell anyone.

  She still had almost twenty minutes till she picked Jade up. She took out her phone and called Sam’s office.

  “Windlass Security,” Jenna said, “Mr. Prichard’s office.”

  “Jenna, it’s Summer. Is he busy?”

  “One moment.” Summer was placed on hold and she listened to a burst of country music for a few seconds.

  “Sam Prichard,” Sam said as he came on the line. “Summer?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “Sir, Landry is dead. I just heard the announcement over the radio, apparently it happened only a short time ago.”

  Sam sounded shocked. “Good grief,” he said. “Do the police have any leads?”

  “No, but the news is speculating that it could be Mrs. McGill. They’re still looking for her over his complaint about her attacking him a few days ago, so she’s naturally gonna be top of their list for the moment. I know damn well it wasn't her; sir, he was killed because someone found out he talked to me.”

  “Not necessarily, Summer. This could be just the buyer, or the triad, cleaning up what they considered to be a loose end, it might not have anything to do with you at all.”

  “Sure, that’s a possibility, sir,” she said, “but my gut is not buying it. He was supposed to meet me again tonight and bring me more information, things he had to get out of his files. What are the odds he would get killed at random just when he was rolling over?”

  “I understand and you may be right,” Sam said, “but I’m not going to lose any sleep over this guy. We already know he was involved in at least three murders, and I’m sure there were probably many others before those. I’m a lot more concerned that they might decide to come after you. Maybe we should pull you out of there.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “If they killed him because of talking to me, that means they could be getting sloppy. Don’t worry about me, sir, I can take care of myself.”

  Sam let out a sigh. “Okay, your call. What about the leads he gave you? Do you still think you and Jade can do any good out there?”

  “Yes, sir, I do. I’m on the way to the airport now to pick her up, and we’ll go over the possible scenarios together once I get her with me.”

  “All right,” Sam said. “Keep me posted, and watch out for yourselves.”

  Sam cut off the call and took out his cell phone to call Indie. When she answered, he told her about Landry, and she went to her computer to see if there was any information available yet.

  “Nothing much,” she said a moment later. “Just the announcement, it’s on all the major news websites, but there’s been no follow-up. Sam, somebody is doing their best to keep you from finding out who got this chip.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “What about the list I sent you? Have you had time to go over it yet?”

  “I put Herman on it, of course,” she said. “Let me see what he’s got. I see a lot of general information about each of these companies. A couple of them were actually involved in the BCI project, but not to any great extent, and from the look of things, I doubt they’d have the kind of resources that could toss out a hundred million dollars. I don’t think any of these people are behind the theft, Sam.”

  “Okay,” Sam replied. “That’s why I wanted your opinion. How’s Bo?”

  “Sleeping at the moment. He just finished a jar of bananas and was ready for a nap. I’m not far from one myself,” she added with a yawn.

  Sam chuckled. “Okay, babe,” he said. “Call me when you get back up.”

  He ended the call and put the phone back in its holster on his belt, and then looked at the time. It was almost a quarter of ten, and he felt like he had been there for hours already. He looked up at Joel and found him sitting with his eyes closed again.

  “Joel? You okay?”

  Joel’s eyes snapped open and he smiled. “Yeah. Just reading the latest issue of a magazine. What’s up?”

  “I’m going after some coffee, you want to come?”

  “Sure,” the kid said. He jumped up as Sam came out from behind his desk and they walked out together. Sam told Jenna where they’d be going and the two of them went down the hall.

  “So, who was that Landry guy?” Joel asked. “I mean, I Googled, so I know who he was, but was he connected to this case?”

  Sam nodded. “It looks that way. He was the one who arranged for McGill to set up the theft, and he told Summer it was at the request of a triad out there. We know they get involved in some major crimes from time to time, but this is actually a little out of their normal ballpark. Summer and Jade are out there trying to get more information about that angle.”

  “Wow,” Joel said. “Are they, like, going undercover?”

  “Not really,” Sam said. “I think it’s more a case of asking questions. As a Chinese, Summer thinks Jade will have better luck than the rest of us.”

  “Man, this is so cool,” Joel said. “I mean, I’m working with Sam Prichard, and all these secret agents you’ve got and everything. It's absolutely awesome!”

  “No, what will be awesome is when we crack this case and find that chip,” Sam replied. “Until then, it’s just another job.”

  16

  Steve and Walter had talked to more than forty men that morning, spending an average of about six minutes with each one. There had actually been a couple of women in the group, as well, simply because the computer that generated the list had only been told to consider weight, and gender had not been specified. However, while a few of them were obviously holding some sort of secrets, they had not identified anyone they could call a suspect.

  It was time for lunch. Stanley led them down to the cafeteria, which was actually a private restaurant that leased the space from the company. The food was excellent, though, so Steve didn’t care how they worked out the business arrangement.

  When they’d eaten, he took out his phone and called Sam.

  “This is boring,” he said as soon as Sam came on the line. “Give me the good old days of chasing bad guys through the alleyways, any day.”

  Sam chuckled. “Making any progress?”

  “Well, we found out that three of the employees we checked out are involved in a polygamous relationship that they’ve been trying to keep quiet, and a few more are gay and trying to hide it, while another one who is in a same-sex relationship has recently concluded that he is not gay after all, and has been sleeping with his secretary. If that’s progress, then yes.”

  Sam felt his eyebrows slowly return to their normal position. “You’ll understand if I say I’m glad it’s you out there, and not me, right? What about suspicious activity? Are you picking up any strange vibes?”

  “Not so much. Walter did manage to solve some big problem their engineers have been trying to figure out for months, and now they’re trying to hire him away again. He just smiles and ignores them, of course.”

  “Good, I don’t want to lose him. I’m still blown away over the way he figured out it wasn't Williamson.”

  “Yeah, me, too. Anything good happening anywhere else?”

  “Not exactly. Did you hear about Landry, the lawyer?”

  Steve’s voice lowered. “No. What?”

  “Somebody walked into his office and shot him dead this morning,” Sam said, “him and his receptionist. Another lawyer and a client who were in an office in the same suite swear they heard nothing, but the police say it was a 7.62 millimeter pistol that killed them. That’s not a quiet round.”

  “Heavy silencer, then, and that
’s the same kind of gun that killed McGill, so it’s almost certainly connected. Sam, have you talked to Summer today? She was with him last night, and we haven’t seen her since breakfast. I think she was planning on talking to him again today.”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. She was supposed to meet with him tonight rather than today, but I’m a little concerned she might be a target. I sent Jade out to work with her, and they’re looking into the triad angle. Apparently the lawyer was contacted by a triad leader about getting the chip, and he turned the job over to McGill. Jade thinks she might be able to get answers out of Chinatown.”

  “Damn, Sam, that makes me nervous. If it’s the triad that killed Landry, they won’t think twice about taking out a couple of girls.”

  “I know that, Steve,” Sam said, “but these aren’t just girls. They’re professional investigators, and from what I've been told, they’re pretty good at handling themselves. If I don’t trust them to do their jobs, there’s no point in their being here.”

  “Yeah, well,” Steve said. “You tell them to arm up, and don’t be afraid to shoot first. Triad ain’t nothing to mess with.”

  They said goodbye and Sam replaced the handset, then he turned and looked at Joel. “Hey,” he said. “What do you know about the San Fran triads?”

  Joel closed his eyes for a moment. “There are several. The most well known is the Wo Hop To triad, but it’s not the one that has the most influence today. That would be Cho Weh Wo. The dragonhead, or leader, is a man named Yue Fei, and the FBI believes they are running almost every criminal enterprise in Chinatown, but they also expand out into the rest of the city and its suburbs.”

  He opened his eyes. “They sound like some pretty bad people,” he said. “This is who we think was behind the chip getting stolen?”

  Sam shook his head. “No, more like middlemen. Someone came to them and said they wanted it, and then the triad contacted Landry, who they’ve apparently worked with before. He took the job and contracted it out to McGill.”

  Joel looked down at the floor for a moment, then back up at Sam. “Sounds like regular business. At C-Link, we contract with lots of other companies to get things we want, but they usually subcontract it out to someone else. It's like everyone wants a piece of the pie, but nobody wants to be the one to bake it. The last guy down the chain gets stuck in the kitchen.”

 

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