DeathWeb (Fox Meridian Book 3)

by Niall Teasdale

  ‘And another in March, but the ninth, tenth, and eleventh are in Berlin. He took advantage of the season shift between hemispheres. He continues to like good weather for his murders.’

  ‘April seems early for summer in Germany.’

  ‘A little, yes, but I have not been able to determine how he picks his victims. Perhaps he found someone he had to have and could not wait.’

  ‘Maybe. Do you know whether the German cops have marked these down as a serial?’

  ‘If they have, they are being tight-lipped about it.’

  ‘Okay, meetings. I want to talk to the investigating officer on the New York cases. Get me an appointment at the UNTPP and we’ll see if they can chase up the Germans. And get me a slot with August. You’ll need to go through NAPA since he’s under house arrest.’

  ‘I will notify you when the meetings are confirmed. What will you do?’

  ‘Start scanning the data you have on these other killings. No one in New York came up as a potential when you scanned arrests, I take it?’

  ‘No one I found met the requirements well enough for me to consider them, but I can provide that data too if you wish to examine it.’

  Fox sighed. ‘I suppose I should. You’re a trainee, after all. I have this feeling I’m wasting my time, but give me the list.’

  ~~~

  ‘I was totally wasting my time,’ Fox commented as she rode the elevator up to the UNTPP offices in New York Tower.

  ‘I’m sorry, Fox,’ Kit replied.

  ‘Not your fault. You did your job and I felt I had to check because you’re still in training. It was the right thing to do, but I was totally wasting my time.’

  ‘Well, you can at least have a pleasing time briefing Captain Deveraux.’

  ‘Well, he’s nice enough–’

  ‘On seeing Captain Deveraux, your reaction is similar to when you first see Sam and Marie in any given day. Dilated pupils, increased heart and respiration rates, low levels of sexual arousal. It dies away faster with Sam because he is a long-term friend.’

  Fox felt her cheeks heating. ‘Now I’ll just be embarrassed when I see him.’

  ‘Perhaps, but there will still be the same arousal. It is not a voluntary response, Fox.’

  Replying with a grunt, Fox stepped off the elevator as the doors opened and then stopped as she was saluted by a very neatly dressed UNTPP officer. ‘Captain Meridian,’ the girl said, using Fox’s old UNTPP rank, ‘please follow me. Captain Deveraux is expecting you.’ Fox followed on, wondering when they were going to stop calling her that.

  Deveraux, at least, remembered, and Fox was taken to his office instead of a conference room like last time. She got the feeling that was a step up in trust. He certainly seemed to feel she belonged there, waving her to a seat as he poured coffee from a pot which was already sitting on a table at one side of the room. Even with his back to her, Fox was annoyingly aware that she was a little aroused by him. He hit several buttons for her. He had blonde hair and she loved blonde men, and his hair was long enough to brush his shoulders and drape over his brow. The blue eyes were clear and sharp, the face quite hard, angular, but strong. The body was strong too, but not over-muscled: slim, athletic, toned. Then there was the accent: he was not old enough to be French so it was probably Quebecois. The UNTPP took people from all over the globe and Fox had met a lot of nationalities. She liked non-American accents.

  He turned and smiled, placing a mug of steaming, aromatic, black liquid in front of her and then sat down, stretching out his legs. ‘What can the United Nations Trans-Planetary Police do for Palladium Security Services today, Fox?’

  He had a good smile. Fox realigned her focus from sex to work and smiled back. ‘I’ve got another serial for you.’

  ‘Another international one? You seem to be making a habit of this. I’ll begin to think you just like working with me.’

  ‘Maybe I do. However, this one started here, in New York, six victims, but then he moved on. Two dead in Cape Town, three in Berlin. The last was this April. He’s a nasty one, Jason. He tortures them to death. Gender is not an issue. Neither I nor Kit have managed to spot a pattern in the victims. It took NAPA five bodies for someone to notice the link and Kit couldn’t unearth anything to suggest the German cops have put it together.’

  ‘Huh. So you wish for me to check with them, show them the evidence, and ensure they are treating it with the urgency it deserves?’

  ‘Basically. This guy likes hunting in summer. Late spring through early autumn anyway. He started kind of early this year which means he’s probably going to kill again soon. They’re going to have another body before the end of this month, probably.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do. How did you get on to this?’

  ‘You’re following local news, I’d imagine, so you saw the reports of the arrest of Harper August?’ He nodded a reply and she went on. ‘That was more or less my doing and he agreed not to fight the case so hard if I would investigate the death of his granddaughter. Patricia Anne Randall was this killer’s first victim. Kidnapped from Central Park on a run. Her naked, battered body was found in the old Hell’s Kitchen area three days later. When Kit was running the basic background stuff, acquaintances and such, she dug up two more very similar murders so I had her keep looking.’

  ‘Your PA is very capable,’ Deveraux said, smiling again.

  ‘She is,’ Fox replied, taking a data stick with the Palladium logo on it from her pocket and placing it on the desk. ‘Everything she collected.’

  ‘I may try to hire her away from you.’ He picked up the stick. ‘You would like to be kept apprised of any results, I assume?’

  Fox nodded. ‘I’m not NAPA so there’s no extradition or anything for them to worry over. If they can nail this guy, they can maybe charge him with additional crimes. If they could see their way to letting me have the case files…’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do. I’ll push your impressive record and suggest you may spot something they have not. I’ll see if I can get the data from South Africa as well, share it all around. It is, after all, what the UNTPP is meant to be here for.’

  Fox smiled at him again. ‘I’m really glad someone in this place remembers that. Oh, and you can’t have Kit. She’s my gorgeous assistant.’

  ~~~

  ‘Thank you, Fox,’ Kit said as Fox went down in the elevator.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Describing me as your “gorgeous assistant.”’

  ‘Huh. My pleasure.’

  ‘Of course, I am yours and would not think of getting another job.’

  Fox nodded. ‘Of course. Then again, you could be reprogrammed to say the same thing to a new owner.’

  ‘That… is true. Would you give me away to Captain Deveraux?’

  ‘Hell no! You’re my gorgeous assistant. I think it’s kind of wrong that I could do that anyway. And Terri would, in all likelihood, perform brain surgery on me with a rusty spoon.’

  ‘Quite an image, but I suspect that that is medically unsound. An internet search does not show any instances where brain surgery with a rusty spoon resulted in death, but I still think it’s not recommended.’

  ‘Ha ha.’ The elevator stopped and Fox walked out, heading across the broad lobby to a nearby slideway. ‘Should get there in time for the next chat, right?’

  ‘Inspector Cant is expecting us in twenty minutes,’ Kit replied. ‘I’m not sure he will offer us coffee, however.’

  Fox stepped onto the slideway and moved over to lean on the rail. The moving sidewalk was a direct connection between the precinct building and New York Tower, but it did not see a lot of traffic. The shrinking business of government administration did not produce high traffic to and from the local NAPA facility.

  ‘I expect him to be grumpy and useless, probably growling and threatening. I agree there is unlikely to be coffee.’

  ‘Given your feelings,’ Kit said, appearing on the track in front of Fox, ‘why are you even bothering to int
erview him?’

  ‘He was just Detective Cant then and he was not a bad detective. Good closure rate. I bet it burned to find a serial and then have him vanish. I’m hoping it burned enough that he’ll want the guy caught even now.’

  Cant did not look especially pleased to see Fox, and he did not offer her coffee. However, she had had time to stop off and get a plastic cup of the stuff, or what passed for it in precinct 19’s HQ, on the way up. Cant sat behind his desk, in an office almost identical to the one Fox had had, and did not get up when she was shown through by one of the junior detectives. Cant was a big man, intimidating, Fox imagined, to some. Six-one or thereabouts, a lot of solid muscle which was mostly natural. He was a blonde, but one with something of a slabby face, his nose showing signs of a break he had never had fixed, his eyes a dull grey. If he had been sharp before making inspector, there was little sign of it now.

  ‘Meridian, what brings you down to the slums from your high tower?’ Cant asked the question with a hint of mock humour and a lot of dislike.

  ‘I don’t live in a tower, Cant.’ Fox settled into a chair opposite his desk, even if he had not offered one. ‘Same apartment block as before. You caught a case before you got shifted up a rank, Sandra Monarch, found dead near Lexington Tower. You linked it to another one, Alan B Barker–’

  ‘There were six of them. The guy had killed six. You pulled the files on those?’

  ‘The first one was Harper August’s granddaughter.’

  ‘Yeah, I was aware.’

  ‘August agreed to quit throwing obstacles in the way of his trial if I looked into his granddaughter’s murder. That death was why he went off the rails and formed Augustine Property Services, as a security organisation. He didn’t seem to know Patricia Randall’s murder was part of a sequence.’

  ‘The link was never made official, never put out to the media. Analysts said that it was not definitely the same guy. The pattern was insufficiently complete, the probabilities were too low. Usual statistics crap.’ Just briefly, Fox saw the fellow cop sitting in front of her. They both knew what it was like to have what seemed like obvious connections tossed aside because someone did not like the odds and the media noise that would hit because of the announcement. ‘I was allowed to make a note in the files for the last two cases suggesting that they were linked and that they might be connected to others. Then the guy stopped. I’d worked out he didn’t like doing his thing in the cold, but next spring there was nothing. Canard was pushing for my promotion, but he wanted the decks cleared. I had to put the case down as inactive in the summer.’

  Fox nodded. ‘He didn’t stop. He moved to Cape Town.’

  ‘The place in the South Africa Federation?!’

  ‘And then on to Berlin. He’s killed five more since he left New York.’

  ‘Berlin? Shit. If they catch him, we’ll never close the case.’

  Fox shrugged. ‘I pulled at some strings in the UNTPP. They’ll see I get notified if the guy’s pulled in, and I’ll make sure we can close the cases. I don’t think August cares where this bastard gets put away, but he wants him found and locked up.’

  ‘Yeah well, you’ve read the files, right? We both know where this one’s going, no matter who catches him.’

  ‘Cold Harbour, no possibility of parole.’

  ‘And with what this one does to his victims, he deserves to live a long life in a box.’

  For once, maybe the only time it had ever happened, Fox was in full agreement with Cant.

  ~~~

  ‘Canard has actually arranged a roster or something so that everyone of detective grade and higher can attend this conference for half a day while it’s on.’ Dillan lifted her glass and sank half of the wine in it, and Fox hoped Terri was going to turn up tonight or she might have to try squeezing three into bed. ‘Station houses are “encouraged” to allow lower ranks to attend if possible. I am starting to hate that place.’

  Fox shrugged. ‘Resign. Come and work for me.’

  ‘It’s just politics, politics, pol– What did you say?!’

  ‘Our medical includes hearing tests.’

  ‘You’re offering me a job, while we’re in a sex club?’

  ‘It’s not a sex club. No floor show and the staff aren’t on the tariff.’

  Dillan smirked and pointed a thumb at a passing woman. ‘No floor show?’ The girl’s skirt was so short that it barely concealed her underwear, assuming she was wearing any.

  ‘You know what I mean. I have to start recruiting at some point. You’re a good detective. I’ve seen your work and I know I can get on with you. I’ve been thinking about it since they gave me this CIO position, but now it’s starting to look like I may need more staff. So… Well, you should give it some thought.’

  ‘I don’t think I need to think about it too hard…’

  ‘Don’t be so quick to judge. Could be a lot of travel, on and off planet. Pay’s good, equipment is excellent, but you could be away from home a lot and there may be a lot of pressure.’

  ‘Someone needs to talk to you about selling these jobs,’ Marie commented.

  ‘I just want her aware of what she’s getting into if she goes for it. Jackson kind of skipped the part where I was a member of the board and I’m not letting anyone else join up without full disclosure.’

  ‘Okay,’ Dillan said, holding up her hands. ‘I get it. It’s not all wine and roses. I’ll think about it and on Monday you can send me the contract paperwork.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound much like thinking about it.’

  ‘I’m a fast thinker.’

  13th June.

  Harper Markus August did not look to be closing rapidly on his first century. At ninety-six, he looked more like a man of fifty, or younger, unless you looked into his eyes. His eyes and mouth had a few wrinkles around them, and the eyes themselves had been a deeper blue in his youth. But there was age and too much stress and unhappiness in those eyes. Fox could see even more of it now than she had the last time she had faced the old man. Whether it was the new stress of the charges against him or some relief at handing his granddaughter’s murder on to someone else, Harper August was aging.

  ‘You’ve news?’ August asked as Fox entered his office. He had a large townhouse not far from Central Park, and a large office within that. An entire wall of it had been set up as a video screen, which was unusual: there were people who avoided or could not have implants, but wearables were generally employed rather than old-style screens. Though Jackson’s office had a similar wall for visual presentation and Fox was unsure why he had it.

  ‘News, but not particularly good news,’ Fox replied. ‘Could my PA use your display wall?’

  August’s brow furrowed. ‘Computer, authorisation for Miss Meridian and her AI to access display features of office systems.’

  ‘Confirmed.’ The voice was flat, emotionless, clearly synthesised. August was a child of the last century and seemed to like his computers to be as dumb as possible.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mister August,’ Kit said from the video wall. She was dressed in her more formal outfit, with a pencil skirt replacing the shorter, bell-shaped one, pumps instead of boots, and her white-framed glasses perched on her nose. She seemed to recognise that August was not interested in talking to an AI and simply turned to toss up pictures of the victims: two rows of five, and one larger frame showing Patricia Randall, the first of them.

  ‘Am I to assume that the man responsible for Patricia’s death also killed these others?’ August asked. He had a quick mind, and a dangerous one.

  ‘I have tracked down five more murders in New York Metro with the same MO,’ Kit replied. ‘After that there were two in Cape Town, South Africa, and three in Berlin, Germany.’

  ‘Your granddaughter was the first,’ Fox said, ‘but this bastard was just getting started.’

  ‘You believe he’s still killing?’

  ‘The last victim was found this April. I have a contact in the UNTPP who’s liaising with the G
erman police. When he strikes again, they’ll be looking at it as a serial with international aspects. They’ve got three corpses so I doubt they’d be willing to extradite, but if we can place evidence before their courts indicating he’s killed eleven instead of three, they’ll probably drop him in a hole on the Moon.’

  August gave a sigh, sitting back in his large, leather chair. ‘In truth… Nothing will bring back Patricia. Seeing some form of justice would bring a form of closure. Before I too am locked away in a dark cage.’

  ‘I understand your reasons for doing it, but you went too far. You lost sight of the justice you were seeking, Mister August.’

  ‘That I did, but too far? How far would you go to see justice for the death of someone you love, Miss Meridian?’

  ‘I’d kill whoever did it,’ Fox replied flatly. ‘Have done. But I did it legally and there was no collateral damage. I know what revenge is all about. I’ve lost someone very dear to me and everyone responsible for that is dead, but I didn’t kill some old guy because he was in the way.’ August looked away, avoiding her eyes even though she was purposefully not looking at him. ‘Kit will leave you the data we’ve collected. I figure you’ll want to see it.’ She frowned and turned to look at him. ‘Why the screens?’

  August seemed happy to have a subject change, which was a little surprising. ‘I dislike wearables, find them uncomfortable, and I suffer from a form of CRS. My body attacks implanted electronics. I understand that there have been some advancements made which might help, but at my age I don’t feel the need to change the way I work.’

  Fox nodded. Cyber-Rejection Syndrome was actually a collection of conditions all of which resulted in an inability to use implants and cybernetics. Some people had trouble with the nanofibre components used to connect to nerves, and some suffered from the same sort of rejection organic implants caused, even with materials which were supposed to be invisible to the immune system. ‘I’ve never met anyone who suffered from that. I’m honestly not sure how I’d cope.’ She lifted her right hand, folding the fingers slowly. ‘And I’d be left-handed now if I couldn’t take cybernetics.’