Investigating Deceit

by Michael Anderle

  Erik hid his smirk. Jacoby Worthington turned the corner, escorted by a uniformed officer.

  “Now the fun begins,” Erik muttered.

  “There’s no way I’m letting that murderer out of the station,” Jia insisted. “He’ll disappear.”

  “I know. I’ve got your back, and the captain does, too.”

  Jacoby Worthington looked more like his son’s older brother than his father. Unlike Erik’s and Alicia’s, his de-aging hadn’t left any hint of gray hair.

  The man surveyed the two detectives with a cool, appraising gaze. “My son is in there?”

  Jia nodded. “He is.” She frowned as she leaned over, looking past him. “No attorney?”

  “You’ll understand why that’s unnecessary in a moment,” Jacoby replied, sounding disgusted. “I insist we have the rest of this conversation in the presence of my son. It’s important he hears it directly from me. That will cut down on the chance of confusion.”

  Erik pressed on the panel, and the interrogation room door slid open. “That’s fine, but if you’re under the impression he’s walking, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  Jacoby wrinkled his nose. “We’ll see who is disappointed in a moment.”

  “Just keep talking.” Erik motioned to the door, and Jacoby entered. The detectives filed in after him.

  Maxwell smiled. “It took you long enough, Father. You wouldn’t believe what these so-called detectives have been saying to me. Such rude, rude things. They should really know their place.”

  Jacoby frowned. “I can only imagine what you’ve gone through.”

  “Exactly.” Maxwell’s smile faltered. “I assume the lawyer’s making preparations for my release. Their evidence is flimsy, and the man I allegedly killed is some middling merchant who was engaging in antisocial behavior. It’s not like he was a pillar of the community. And I can’t help it if some mercenaries decided to attack the famous Obsidian Detective.” He sneered at Erik. “You shouldn’t make so many enemies if you don’t want trouble.”

  Jia ground her teeth. Erik was half-convinced she was going to leap over the table and start punching Maxwell in the face.

  He wasn’t sure he would stop her if she did.

  Jacoby nodded solemnly. “I understand.” He turned to Erik. “Detective, he has no assets of his own. I’ve frozen all his accounts. He will receive no legal representation from anyone in my employ. I understand that he has to be provided a lawyer by the government, and I want to make it clear that I’ve recently come into possession of evidence I’ll be passing along to you. This evidence clearly demonstrates my son’s involvement in a number of illegal activities on New Pacifica, including smuggling, unlicensed tech usage, and assault.” He lifted his chin as if daring Erik and Jia to challenge him. “I, of course, had no knowledge of his activities, nor did I know he was planning any of this.”

  “Wait.” Maxwell blinked, head snapping to his father. “What?”

  Erik grinned. “It looks like your dad’s kicking you off the tower, your alien highness.”

  Jia’s lips quivered, and she clenched her fists. She glowered at Jacoby. “This is your fault, too. I don’t buy for a second you didn’t know about any of this. If you had stopped him earlier, a man would still be alive. At least by catching him, we’re going to stop copycats, but that doesn’t bring back Farouk Gamal.”

  “T-this isn’t happening.” Maxwell shook his head, his eyes wide with terror. “You’re my father. You need to protect me from all these fake humans. You’ve always helped me before. You’ve told me yourself that we’re Worthingtons. We’re better than normal people.”

  Jacoby sighed. “Yes, we are.” He narrowed his eyes. “But with that superiority comes responsibility, you worthless little twit. I had some hope that you weren’t a complete idiot and a sociopath, and you would grow out of your youthful indiscretions. I worked for decades to get where I am. Do you know how hard it is to get to my position in a company like Hermes, as someone not born on Earth? You’ve threatened all I have accomplished with your nonsense.”

  Maxwell gnashed his teeth. “This is not happening. This is ridiculous. You can’t turn your back on me.”

  Jacoby slammed his fist on the table. “You have shamed your family. I’m prepared to disinherit you, but there’s one small chance that I won’t.”

  Erik watched in silence, a huge smirk on his face. Jia kept a cool, distant expression, but she’d unclenched her fists.

  “You have to help me.” Maxwell leaned forward. “Please.”

  His father replied with a curt nod. “And I will. This is how this matter will proceed. You’re going to admit to your crimes. Perhaps the prosecution will offer you some sort of deal, but you will do time in prison to reflect on your sins. I will do everything I can to ensure you are sentenced to at least ten years, preferably twenty.”

  Maxwell gasped. “Twenty years?”

  “Don’t worry. If you spend that time in honest reflection and self-improvement, they’ll let you out early. Then, and only then, once you’ve paid your debt to society, will I reconsider your inheritance and your role in our family.” Jacoby looked at Jia. “You’re right, Detective Lin. This is partially my fault, and I will do what little I can to correct my mistake.”

  Maxwell hung his head. “I only wanted to free the real humans.”

  Jacoby flared his nostrils. “What pointless prattle. Detectives, I would like to leave now. I trust I’ve made my point to your satisfaction.”

  “Yeah, you could say that.” Erik opened the door and gestured with a grand, mocking bow. “Thanks for your assistance, Mr. Worthington.”

  The other man stepped out, sparing one brief look of disgust at his son.

  “We’ll have an officer come and take you back to your cell soon,” Erik explained to Maxwell. “And we’ll put in a request for a lawyer.”

  “I don’t need one,” Maxwell murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll sign whatever they want me to.”

  “Your call. I’m not going to complain when you go away.” Erik exited the room, followed by Jia.

  Once the door closed, Jia glared down the hall at the departing Jacoby. “And I was irritated with my mother over unfortunate timing.”

  “Take the victory for what it is,” Erik offered, his voice lowered. “We bagged the Leem King and a whole bunch of mercenaries. The captain can go out and give a big statement about how his feeling the fear has led him to prison. It’s over.”

  Jia continued watching Jacoby until he turned a corner. “It makes me think about what I could have become under different circumstances.”

  Erik nodded. “That’s humanity for you.” The two of them started walking toward the captain’s office. “Part angel, part demon, always annoying.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jia picked up her fork and took a bite of her braised beef, enjoying the slightly sweet flavor. She offered her mother a smile.

  The restaurant her mother had chosen was mid-tier, at least by Lan’s standards. It wasn’t a place serving beignets and beers with a rowdy but warm atmosphere. It did have a woman in a red silk dress kneeling on a raised platform, playing an erhu.

  Thankfully, not every customer wore a suit or dress that cost more than Jia’s flitter. Maybe this was her mother’s way of meeting her halfway.

  The erhu player wore a solemn expression as she played. She pulled her bow slowly back and forth, her fingers shifting up and down with intricate skill. A beautiful if haunting melody flowed from the instrument.

  Oddly enough, music was one of the few areas in which Lan Lin hadn’t demanded her daughters excel. Jia wondered if it there were frustrated youthful dreams linked to the musical arts, but she’d never bothered to pry to learn the truth. Annoying her mother to satisfy idle curiosity didn’t seem a good trade-off.

  Lan eyed Jia’s bowl. “Is the beef to your liking? I’ve heard good things about it here, but I haven’t had a chance to try it yet.”

  “It’s g
ood, Mother,” Jia responded. “Fine flavor balance. Skilled seasoning.”

  “Then why do you look like you’ve just been told a meteor is about to hit Earth?”

  “Lan Lin telling jokes?” Jia chuckled. “I should check to make sure you’re not a Zitark spy in disguise.”

  “I’ve always had a sense of humor,” her mother insisted. “You simply don’t appreciate it. If anything, I’d argue you are the serious one between us. That’s not always a bad trait to have, so I’ve never discouraged it.”

  Jia had to stop for a second and give that comment some thought. “I don’t know if you’re wrong in saying that. We could invite Mei next time and have a contest to figure out which of the Lin women is overly serious.” Jia set her fork down. “Sorry, Mother. My last case got to me. It made me think about a few things.”

  “Why? You caught the man responsible, and he’ll be punished for his crimes. I would think that as a detective, you would be satisfied. Before, you were always complaining you didn’t get to go after all those unpleasant antisocials.”

  “I just wonder…” Jia let out a quiet sigh, looking around before returning her focus to her mom. “His father knew he was on the wrong path, but he covered for him. They’re downplaying that on the news, but it’s the truth.”

  “It’s not wrong for a parent to cover for their child, but he should have followed up earlier. You and Mei never had antisocial tendencies, so raising you was easy in that regard. Being stubborn can be obnoxious, but it doesn’t necessarily lead one to become a criminal. I have always presumed that most criminals are simply too lazy to succeed through honest work.” Lan looked thoughtful before a smile broke out. “But don’t worry about that awful man and his crimes. There will always be another criminal for you to obsess about. We should be discussing pleasanter things. I know you mostly enjoy your work, but in this case, you’re not doing that, so let’s change the subject.”

  Jia raised a curious eyebrow. “To what?”

  “Corbin,” Lan suggested. “Things have been going well, but I also have noticed something interesting that makes me wonder.”

  “What’s that, Mother?” Jia asked, licking her lips. She would have been less worried if a shark was swimming behind her.

  Lan’s gaze turned piercing. “Most respectful women would bring their important man to meet their parents. Don’t you agree?”

  Jia managed not to grimace, but her tightening stomach made her regret the beef. “It’s still early in our relationship. I didn’t think that was necessary.”

  “It’s the opposite. Because it’s early, you should bring him to meet us.” Lan flicked her wrist with practiced elegance and harrumphed. “You don’t want to waste time, do you? You’ve never believed in that.”

  “I’m not following you.” Jia watched her mother carefully, searching for some hint of what was going on in her ever-calculating mind.

  “If he’s not compatible with your family, the relationship doesn’t have a future,” Lan explained. “With that in mind, wouldn’t it make sense to have him meet your parents sooner rather than later? I would have thought that much was obvious.”

  “Oh.” Jia blinked. “I can see how you might feel that way, but I want to control how this unfolds.” She looked to the side. “To be honest, I’m unsure about this relationship, so I don’t want to complicate things until I’m certain.”

  “Why are you unsure?” Lan sounded genuinely concerned.

  Jia leaned forward, eyes focused on her mom. “I like Corbin, and we have a good time when we have dates. He’s pleasant and respectful of my career.” Jia looked down, considering her next few words. “But I don’t know if there’s true excitement and spark.”

  Lan put a hand over her mouth and covered her laughter. “Excitement and spark? Sometimes I forget how young you are.”

  “It’s not like they’re pointless considerations in a relationship,” Jia insisted with a frown.

  “Pointless, no. Overrated? Yes. You’re not having any problems other than excitement and spark?” Lan leaned forward, the eager interest of a busybody mother worse than a shark bearing its teeth.

  Informing her mother about Corbin’s joking complaints regarding Erik struck Jia as a horrific debacle waiting to happen. A few missing pieces of information would keep the conversation pleasant.

  Misdirection would aid the effort.

  “Let’s not worry about that for now,” Jia suggested. “I have a favor to ask.”

  Lan took a sip of tea, a hungry look in her eyes. Woe to the woman who owed her too much. “A favor?”

  “Yes. I was wondering if you could teach me your roast duck recipe.”

  Jia could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen genuine shock on her mother’s face. Lan Lin stared at her daughter wide-eyed, as if she’d turned into a hopping zombie ready to leap across the table, eat her flesh, and absorb her qi.

  “Why?” Lan asked, pure wonder flavoring the question.

  “I just wanted to make it for someone, is all.” Jia managed a relaxed shrug and hoped her mother wouldn’t probe further. A little flattery, especially based on truth, might help. “I have a lot of fond memories associated with eating your duck for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that it’s delicious. If I’m going to do something special for someone, I might as well start with a good foundation. It’s like you just said. I don’t like to waste time.”

  Jia hadn’t seen such a triumphant smile on her mother’s face since the last time she’d been promoted over a long-hated rival.

  “Yes.” Lan nodded a few times, radiating satisfaction. “It’s very wise of you to ask me to show you that. I’m sure Corbin will taste the respect and effort in the dish and respond in kind. It would bring me great pleasure to instruct you. I’ll show you immediately after we’re done here.”

  Jia managed a smile despite her thumping heart.

  What was she doing asking her mother to teach her something to impress Erik? They were just partners, and somehow Jia couldn’t bring herself to correct her mother and explain why she wanted to learn the recipe.

  Why was everything so complicated?

  Lan sighed as she looked through a shelf in one of her cabinets. She pushed aside pans, pots, and appliances. She tapped her PNIU, and the shelf retracted. The cabinet door slid closed.

  “I wish you would have asked me this earlier in the day when our cook was still here, Jia,” she complained. “I must admit I’m not familiar with where and how she stores things. I do believe we have duck. I’m pretty sure.” She stopped and frowned. “We only have produced meat, but it’s not like we’ll have to print it.” She wrinkled her nose. “But for something so special, maybe we should buy real duck meat?”

  “That’s a lot of money to spend for a cooking lesson,” Jia replied.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. Premium ingredients are part of the key to cooking success.” Lan furrowed her brow in intense concentration. “It would help if I could remember everything I needed, too. It’s been a while since I’ve actually cooked it. Not since…before you went to university if I recall correctly.”

  “It’s really been that long?” Jia snickered. “Should I just look up a recipe on the net?”

  Lan shifted from a cabinet to a spice rack on the wall. “Just give me a moment. It’s been a while. The memories are all there.” She gestured at the spices. “These are a major key to its success.” She grabbed a few bottles—ginger and nutmeg, among others. “I remember that much.” She tapped her bottom lip. “I don’t know if we have everything. I’d hate to have to print something I am missing, even a minor ingredient. Substandard ingredients will spoil the whole experience.” She moved away from the spice rack and tapped her PNIU. This time a door on the island opened and shelves extended, weighed down with kitchen equipment. She grabbed a small silver device resembling a gun and eyed it with suspicion. “What does this do?”

  Jia put a hand to her mouth and fake-coughed to cover her smile. “It’s
a smoking gun, Mother.”

  Lan tossed it back onto the shelf. “I know I don’t need that.” She eyed the device. “Pretty sure.”

  Jia’s father stepped into the kitchen. He stopped and tilted his head, staring at his wife, who had her head half in the island cabinet. A few seconds passed before recognition washed over his face, then he backed out of the room, shaking his head.

  Maybe there’s a reason Mother only cooks that one recipe, Jia thought with a smile.

  Lan stood and tapped her foot. “I’m going to have some fresh, real duck delivered. By the time it arrives, I’ll have found everything.” She paused. “You have time, right?”

  “Sure, Mother, but you don’t have to go through all that trouble.”

  Her mother’s bright smile disarmed Jia’s resistance.

  “I don’t think of this as a chore,” Lan explained. “It is something I’ve always wanted to share with my daughters. I was only waiting for one of you to ask.”

  Jia’s smile was warm and comfortable. “Thanks, Mother. I appreciate it.”

  Lan shook her head. “No, Jia. Thank you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dozens of jets shot water in intricate repeating patterns around the edge of the huge polished-stone fountain.

  Erik sat on the edge of the water feature, watching the streams of people in the commercial zone go about their afternoon. Some chatted happily to nearby people or on calls. Pain and concern poisoned the faces of others.

  A few people wandered aimlessly, as if they had nothing filling their life other than pointless commercialism.

  “Why did you come here?” Emma asked. “This seems an odd way to spend lunch. You’re going to be hungry later.”

  “I had a big breakfast, and sometimes it’s good to watch people,” Erik answered, half to her and half to himself. “It grounds me. I picked up the habit when I was in the Army. It was about reminding myself who I was fighting for. When you go on a mission, you get tunnel vision, and you can start forgetting yourself. Being a cop is even more challenging in some ways because there’s not a clear separation between the enemy and civilians.”