Anniversary Day (20 page)

She wondered if he knew about the dead man in Glenn Station as well, or if he had heard through a different source that Soseki’s attacker was about to go into custody.

“You,” she said to him, “you’re coming with me.”

She didn’t want to get in trouble with DeRicci after all. Better to keep this guy in the loop than try to work around him.

Then she glanced over at Nyquist. He had left his post once to talk with Jacobs. Then he had come back and mentioned to Romey that Jacobs was reluctant to share the information on this case via links, and that Romey needed to talk to the coroner directly.

Romey would have asked him why he was talking to Jacobs instead of her, but she didn’t. She had discovered how good Jacobs was through Nyquist, asking his advice after a particularly maddening episode with Brodeur a few months back. Nyquist’s relationship with Jacobs was long-standing. Even though Romey had asked for Jacobs on this case, she didn’t have Jacobs’ loyalty yet, and she knew it.

Yet another reason to have Nyquist on this case.

Romey stopped at his table. He was so intent, comparing information on his screen with something that made him tap the palm of his hand, that he hadn’t even seen her coming.

“Bartholomew,” she said softly.

He started as he looked up at her. If he were a suspect, she would have thought he was hiding something.

“We’ve located the attacker. Would you like to be in on the arrest?”

He gave her a distracted smile. “It’s your case, Savita,” he said. “You get the glory.”

Something in his tone made her frown. “You don’t think this is glory, do you?”

He looked down, paused, a frown creasing his forehead. Then he sighed, as if he had come to some private conclusion.

“This case is complicated,” he said. “I think we haven’t found out how complicated yet.”

She nodded. His words touched on a feeling she hadn’t quite let herself acknowledge. She was deeply unsettled by all of this. Maybe that was why she was so pessimistic about her own ability to solve this case. Maybe, deep down, she felt there was no resolution.

After all, she rarely went into an investigative situation doubting her own ability to handle it.

“You’ve found something,” she said softly, hoping Kilzahn hadn’t heard.

Nyquist shook his head. “Not really.”

She noted that he hadn’t said no. He had just given the kind of denial that she used to give her bosses when she had no evidence. Just a hunch.

“I hope your hunch pans out,” she said, making him look surprised for the second time in the past five minutes.

“Me, too,” he said softly. “Me too.”

Thirty-three

“I can see you,” the suspect said.

Piaja didn’t so much hear him as read the man’s lips.

No matter how cautious Piaja and Julie had been as they moved outside the window, they caught the man’s attention. His hand was wrapped around that steaming mug. Then he smiled. A servo-tray brought him a thick pastry, covered in white frosting.

He took the plate off the tray and set the plate on his table next to the mug. Then he looked away, glancing out the side windows, and then over his shoulder, as if trying to determine if someone had come in the back.

The other squads would arrive soon. They were only minutes away, maybe seconds.

The suspect took a bite of that pastry, licked his lips as if the pastry was the best thing he’d ever tasted, and then he set the pastry down. He wiped his fingers on the leg of his pants.

Piaja watched each movement closely. He hadn’t moved—neither had Julie—but the suspect knew they were there.

The suspect looked at Piaja at that moment, and that was when he spoke.

Piaja felt a shiver run down his spine. He wanted to say,
So you see me? Well, good for you
, but he didn’t.

“Are you afraid of me?” the man asked. Then he said something that Piaja couldn’t read.

What was that?
Piaja sent to Julie.

He said, “Don’t you want to know why I did it?”

Piaja still hadn’t moved. In fact, he hadn’t taken his gaze off the suspect. Julie hadn’t either. So far as the man could tell, they were motionless, watching him, keeping track and doing nothing else.

He wants us to come inside
, Piaja sent.

I know
, Julie said.
Our instructions are clear
.

As if Piaja was ready to go in. As if he was going to make a mistake. As if he didn’t know they needed this suspect alive.

“I’m only going to talk to you,” the suspect said, his eyes meeting Piaja’s. “If someone else shows up, I’m not going to talk at all.”

The man’s eyes were a clear blue, pale blue, the kind that looked odd against darker skin, but against skin this fair, they looked even creepier, as if the color had just leached out of him.

Why does he want us to come inside?
Piaja sent, not because he felt that Julie knew, but because he had to discuss this. It was making him nervous, just like the suspect wanted it to. Piaja didn’t want the suspect to know that he was getting through.

I don’t know
, Julie sent back.
Maybe to take us out?

Piaja had that suspicion as well. But the suspect could have taken them out through the window, even before they knew he was inside. So that didn’t make sense.

See if you can get someone to access the coffee shop’s systems,
Piaja sent.
I want to know what happened to the employees.

You don’t know any were on duty today,
Julie sent.

I do know
, he sent.
Haven’t you been looking at the ads?

A slight movement of her mouth told him that she hadn’t. She had been focused entirely on the suspect.

“I know someone else is coming,” the suspect said. “I know our time is running out.”

At least that was what Piaja thought he was saying.

I’m going to have them check to see if there’s a bomb inside,
Julie sent.
Maybe that’s why he wants us in there
.

Piaja doubted he had a bomb. But he understood the thought, particularly on Anniversary Day. Besides, he couldn’t quite tell why he discounted the bomb idea. Maybe because bombers liked to take out as many innocents as possible.

The suspect would want the entire squad here when the bomb detonated. He wouldn’t want it to go off before they arrived.

I’m sure there’s security vid from his arrival
, Piaja sent. Which begged the question, how come none of the computer systems saw this? They should have been tracking security vid throughout the city, trying to catch this guy. They had an image of him after all. How come that didn’t work?

No one flagged it
, Julie sent.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,
Piaja sent.
Let’s find out what’s going on
.

She moved her head slightly, almost a nod, before she caught herself. But the suspect saw it, and he smiled.

He was smarter than Piaja expected him to be. When Piaja had heard he was a clone, he was expecting something designed for this one job, something programmed, the way you would program a servo-tray.

He hadn’t expected someone to think and to challenge him and to be, if Piaja was honest with himself, someone who could take charge of this situation just with a few simple movements.

He’s aware of us
, Piaja sent to the entire department. That was for the suspect, if the suspect had somehow hacked into the operations link. Then on an encoded link, something that no one could hack into—at least that Piaja had ever heard of—he sent this to Romey and the other team leaders:
I need to know the moment you approach the block. He’s unpredictable, and he’s planning something.

Don’t engage
, Romey immediately sent back.

Too late,
Piaja sent.
He’s already engaged us
.

There was a moment of silence, which Piaja knew hid a curse. Then Romey.
We need him alive. Have you got a protective suit?

Just the kind that’ll protect a crime scene
, Piaja sent.

I’m not sure that’s strong enough
, Romey sent.
You can’t lay a finger on him. Don’t get close enough to let him so much as brush against you
.

Piaja almost frowned. He could feel the movement begin and he hoped he caught it soon enough.
You think he can kill that easily?

I know he can
, Romey sent.

Great. Piaja suppressed a sigh. Just great. They couldn’t arrest this guy, but he had already engaged them. So this situation was moving quickly, whether Piaja wanted it to or not.

“You can’t stall any longer,” the suspect said. “At least, not and listen to what I have to say.”

The coffee shop has a pretty high end security system
, Julie sent.
Everyone is reviewing the vid now, but they’ve looked at the building itself, and they’re not getting any readings that would indicate a bomb. However, they do caution that he might have something we don’t recognize
.

“You have one minute,” the suspect said. “One minute before I shut up forever.”

That clinched it.

Piaja was going in.

Thirty-four

Moving the essential personnel was like moving an army. Romey had never been in charge of an operation this big. Someone—and she wasn’t sure who—wanted to take a vehicle to the suspect’s location.

She didn’t. If she had been on her own, she would have run there. But she couldn’t do that either.

So she glanced at her own map of the area, saw that even with a vehicle, they would have had to park two blocks away, and on top of some kind of structure. The real-time map showed vehicles everywhere, trapped because of the lockdown of the entire area.

She couldn’t run. She needed to keep Kilzahn beside her and he didn’t seem like the running type. She also had some squad leaders and lead detectives, who needed to move along as well.

As they hurried through the streets—or whatever this group did that approximated a hurry—she felt increasing pressure.

The suspect was in a coffee shop. The image the on-site officer had sent showed him eating a pastry and drinking something, probably coffee. He looked calm.

Romey hated that.

She also hated the fact that he had found the most upscale part of this little part of Armstrong. He wasn’t waiting in some dive—and there were plenty. She was passing them in her fast walk.

He was waiting in a nice coffee shop, with a pastry that looked edible (and was probably made of real flour, not Moon flour), a mug of something steaming hot, and a chair that had molded to his slight frame. He was comfortable.

He sat beside two banks of windows.

He wanted to get caught.

Or at least get noticed.

This entire plan was about getting noticed. The clones, the attacks in public places, Anniversary Day.

And then she got the on-site street cop’s queries to various agencies, about security vids, about bombs, and she realized something was happening there, something important. She had been about to contact the lead officer on site when he contacted her.

She told him not to engage—and he told her it was too late.

Which meant she had already lost control of the scene.

If she ever had it.

“We’re going to pick up the pace,” she said to her group.

And then she started to run.

Thirty-five

Piaja pulled his laser pistol and stepped forward. Julie caught his arm.

“Don’t,” she said.

It took him a moment to realize she spoke instead of sending him the message.

He moved his eyes so that he could see the suspect through the window of the coffee shop. The suspect was smiling.

The bastard.

Piaja was damned if he did anything; damned if he didn’t.

If Piaja didn’t go in, and the guy died or set off a bomb or killed himself, then everyone would ask why Piaja didn’t take the opportunity to talk to him. Same if the guy shut up and never spoke again.

But if Piaja did go in, and the guy suicided or set off a bomb or injured or killed Piaja, then Piaja would get blamed for inciting the guy.