Insequor (10 page)

“At first. Then they were mutilated, cut up and displayed.”

“Displayed?” Daniel shifted in his seat and buckled up, Jones did likewise.

“The first one we didn’t know what to make of. She’d been placed around a tree…in bits. It must have taken a while to get it right, just the way he wanted it. It was the most disturbing thing I had ever seen…up until the next one. Same MO, same cause of death…this time she was spread out on a field. There were eight murders in total.”

“Where does the actor come in to it?”

Jones took another swig from his soda; just for a moment Daniel thought he saw him eye his scotch. The brown eyes looked damp, the face downtrodden. “After we realised we had a serial killer on our hands he had to go. He didn’t take it too bad; he knew he would be in the way and things could get serious. But we kept in touch.

Months passed, years. We never did catch the killer. The actor, well, he got his big break. Made a big movie, then another one. The bars we drank in got more expensive but he didn’t mind payin’ and I didn’t mind drinkin'.’”

“Who was he?”

“Marco Lowe.”

“
The
Marco Lowe?”

“That’s not his real name. His real name is Marco di Conti.”

Daniel breathed out, “Still. That’s pretty cool.”

“Cool?”

“Well, he’s a big star. He does all those action movies. ‘Road Kill’ – you seen that one?”

“No, I’ve only ever seen one of his films. It’s called ‘Out in the Garden.’”

Daniel titled his head. “Can’t say I’ve heard of that one.”

“I’m not surprised. The studio pulled it shortly after murder number six.”

“Why?”

“Because it was about someone who strangled girls in Griffith Park. Di Conti had made the film ten years earlier; it was a B movie. Never got shown nowhere. But he chose not to mention it.”

Daniel realised his mouth was open. An image of Marco Lowe flashed through his mind. An open shirt, a gun in his hand, rippled chest. Titles like
Loose Cannon
and
Desperate Measures
; a lone maverick cop with a gun seemed to be just about the only character he could play.

“So you suspected him?” he said.

“Years later,” said Jones, “when he’d made it big and we’d stopped hanging out together, I happened to be awake one night. I hadn’t been able to sleep, never did much in those days, and so flicked on the tube. Came across some B movie channel and saw it was one of his movies so decided to give it a go.

“It all fit. The MO, the girl’s descriptions even the way he laid out the bodies; all just like the movie. It was almost too obvious. What we used to call an ‘orgy of evidence.’”

“So what happened?”

The next morning, I spoke to the Chief, got a warrant and went over to his house to pull him in for questioning. The whole station was in chaos. We couldn’t release any details of course so we had to section off an interrogation room in case the press got hold of it. The studio had some pretty high powered lawyers and if it got out and we were wrong they would have had our asses. But God bless him, the Chief, he stuck by me.”

“So did he confess?”

“Hell, no,” Jones slapped his hand. “The son of a bitch said I’d been stalking him! Said I was obsessed with him, had been following him in to bars, calling him.

“Shit.”

“I ended up getting moved downtown, didn’t much care for it so I left the LAPD and moved across country. Five years later you showed up. I’m sorry you had to have it dragged up on TV like that.”

“Don’t be,” Daniel said, flatly. “Don’t ever apologise. When that chat show guy mentioned the story I was scared. Throughout all of this you’re the one person I’ve been able to rely upon. For a moment I thought even that was a lie. But it wasn’t. After what you just told me I’ve got more respect for you than ever.”

“I hope Toby agrees with you. You know how he feels about bad PR.” Jones scratched his chin and smirked.

“That’s not his decision any more and I bet he’s no different. Everyone’s got baggage, except me. I just wasted what life I had so far. But I’m going to change that.”

“You haven’t wasted your life.”

“I have, but it doesn’t bother me. You know, I used to write. Short stories, poems; I‘d enter competitions. For that one or two days before the results were posted I’d dream about winning. About being discovered and being asked to write a blockbuster. Then, the results would come out and I wouldn’t have won. I’d be deflated but it didn’t matter. I enjoyed those few days every year when I could dream.”

“You sure did enter a lot of competitions.”

Daniel looked at him, raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” said Jones, “I forget I’ve seen your file. It’s personal.”

“That’s okay. I forget I have one.”

The jet pushed them both back in their seats and surged into the sky. Above the clouds the sunset was beautiful. It beckoned them to distant lands and dreams. Jones started to doze pretty quickly and after watching him gently snooze for a while, Daniel too found peace in the embrace of sleep.

Central Intelligence Agency

Interview Transcript

File Number – 133329DKK

Date and Time:
Classified

Agent Conducting Interview:

Classified Classified

AGENT
Classified

So then you shot to fame. Everybody on the planet knew who you were. “The Man the Robot was Chasing.” Everyone.

LOMAN

Yes, everyone.

AGENT
Classified

How did that feel, Daniel?

LOMAN

Excuse me?

AGENT
Classified

How did it feel? Leaving aside the danger element, how did it actually feel? Being more famous than Elvis.

LOMAN

I wouldn’t call it fame exactly.

AGENT
Classified

Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified

LOMAN

Classified

AGENT
Classified

If you say so. But credit to you, you took advantage of it. In the courts.

LOMAN

Now you’re getting on to a sensitive subject.

AGENT
Classified

I don’t think so.

LOMAN

It wasn’t my doing. You started it. The government. Companies. Advertisers. You were all using the robot. Making money, putting its face on everything. And I thought, ‘Wait a minute. I’m the one suffering here. I’m the one it’s chasing. Don’t I get anything out of this?’

AGENT
Classified

And so you went to court to fight for ownership?

LOMAN

Exactly.

AGENT
Classified

And?

LOMAN

And what? You were there, weren’t you?

AGENT
Classified i

The court judgement indicated
Classified
ClassifiedClassifiedClassified Classified
This gave us a precedent that
Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified Classified

LOMAN

That’s what happened in the courtroom. I made a different deal with Toby.

As Toby made his way up the stairs, his feet padding softly on the thick red carpets, he realised it was a long time since he’d been in the Waldorf. She still looked the same though; grandness at every corner, opulence whispering about a time since passed. It seemed a suitable place for someone who had lost his own past and Daniel had been living in the penthouse for two weeks now. Outside the suite a Secret Service man called Bruce, who Toby vaguely knew, gave a nod.

“How is he?”

“Not good.”

Before Toby could knock, the polished wooden door swung open. Inside Daniel was holding up a newspaper.

“Have you seen this?”

Toby accepted the copy of the New York Times that was thrust into his chest as he entered, before sitting himself down on the top of the nearest sofa. There were four.

Looking down at the newspaper he understood Daniel’s mood immediately. On it was a picture of the robot drinking a famous brand of cola with a suitably stupid tagline.
Ah, it was time for that conversation.

Toby looked up and saw Daniel was pouring himself a drink. The room was dominated by floor to ceiling glass in one wall that looked out over New York City. Elsewhere mirrors, gilt edged pictures and crushed velvets heightened the magnificence. This must be costing a fortune, he thought.

Toby straightened up, folded the paper and casually tossed it onto the table. “It looks harmless enough. Legally, they can’t use your face though. We made sure of that.”

Daniel turned, his eyes snarled. “We? You knew about this?”

Toby sighed. “I wasn’t personally involved, but a lot of companies are using its image. We’ve put strict controls down though so your rights are protected. A bill was passed by Congress in the middle of the night.”

Daniel sipped at the whiskey. What was it, thought Toby, four thirty in the afternoon?

“It’s understandable that you’re shocked,” he said, “but it was inevitable. By taking out trademark protection, copy and image rights, we can control the whole situation.”

“It sounds like a business.”

Toby eased over to stand next to Daniel; he reached down for a tumbler and the decanter; art deco crystal by the look of it.

“It’s the way of the world,” he said, turning to look out of the window. Christ, what a view. You could make out Central Park; the city really was beautiful on a late summer afternoon. The haze, the warmth of the sun as it said goodbye. It brought back memories. He’d sat in that very park. Shared a picnic, wine. Hit a ball.

Daniel’s glass was empty and Toby noticed he’d calmed down a little. Now was the time to have a conversation; when he was rational. Toby liked Daniel, but the guy was under so much pressure, so in the spotlight, that it was hard to even have a frame of reference for where he was emotionally. Truth be told, Toby had ordered a psychological evaluation about three weeks ago and they were already monitoring his behaviour.

As they made their way back to the sofas, Daniel sparked up again. “Who gets the money?”

“I beg your pardon?” The two were sat opposite each other now, a dark coffee table stacked with newspapers and magazines. Only now did Toby notice the robot seemed to be on the front cover of them all.

“The money. All these companies must be paying for these rights? These adverts cost millions.” Daniel waved his hand at the glossy prints. “I’ve seen it on TV too. How much do
they
pay?”

Toby thought it best to nip this in the bud. “I can see where you’re going with this but trust me, it’s nothing compared to the cost of transporting and protecting you.”

The two fixed each other and Toby realised now how seriously on edge Daniel was looking.

“Maybe,” he said, and again he pointed at the magazines, “but maybe if I was getting all the money off the companies I could look after myself.”

Toby stood up, set the drink down and buttoned up his jacket. “That isn’t going to happen.”

“Really?”

“This is a military operation now.”

Toby made his way to the door and opened it, but before he could get through Daniel spoke. “I’ll see you in court.”

Toby turned around, his eyebrows creased together. “Excuse me?”

Now Daniel was walking toward the door, a brown paper envelope, seemingly produced from nowhere in his outstretched hand.

Toby opened the enveloped and looked at the papers inside. “Is this a joke?”

Daniel didn’t move. “I want what’s mine. I’m the thing it’s chasing. It belongs to me.”

Judge Jeremy C. Rafferty pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His eyes were sore, his ears were aching and his stomach was complaining. As he massaged the skin, working across his eyelids, he deflected a yawn out of the side of his mouth before looking up. Before him the courtroom looked like some sort of overgrown hedge of people and cameras.

On one side were eight, smartly dressed, top government lawyers; one of which was in the middle of his closing remarks. They all wore near enough the same suit and had the same docile expression that comes with a Harvard education and a sense of self-confidence that only the truly corruptible can display.

On the other side a young man, smartly dressed, but not ‘empowered’. Sat next to him a robust, red faced county lawyer called Mitchell, whom Rafferty vaguely knew, looking well…there was no other way to put it – haughty. His face showed true displeasure. His chin up, his mouth dead straight and the fire of self-righteousness burning in his eyes. Usually you only saw that face on someone driven by a cause. A true cause. But today, well, today was different.

He listened to the government lawyer flap away. “And so, to summarise, the government of the United States recognises the plaintiff’s intellectual rights to the property but must, as a matter of national security...”

But then something caught Rafferty’s eye. A movement, from the young man. Maybe it was a flick of the head, or even perhaps a nod. But he had seen it, and so too had his attorney. The government lawyer finished, sat down and shook the hands of all his colleagues with a smile.

Then up stepped Mitchell. “Your honour, my client would like to drop his case.” There were gasps and a flurry of camera snaps. Across the room there were smug grins from the Harvard boys. Mitchell put his thumbs on his belt hooks and continued.

“He would like to apologise to the United States government and has let it be known to me he will pay all legal costs.”

Mitchell looked back at his client and shared a warm smile. Rafferty could see the young man now, Daniel Loman, was starting to check his phone. What were they doing? “This unfortunate case was brought about by my client’s desire to take control and responsibility of this… anomaly.”

‘Anomaly’ was the legal term they had decided upon in advance of the case. Rafferty didn’t want to hear about alien robots in his courtroom.

Mitchell leaned on his desk, loosened his tie for dramatic effect, and dabbed his brow. “He fully submits that he was wrong to try and do so and that the aforementioned anomaly is in fact the property of the United States government.”

Rafferty leaned forward towards the microphone; he could see light at the end of the tunnel. “Well, I’m pleased to hear it counsel.” He picked up the gavel. “This court finds in favour of the United States government in the case of Loman – “

“Furthermore,” Mitchell said, “my client would like to ask for discretion and privacy from the press as he wishes to take a break from public life and spend two years touring Europe.”

The smiles went and the Harvard boys stared with open eyes and mouths. More gasps and murmurs could be heard from the courtroom.

“And possibly Asia,” said Mitchell. Swearwords could be heard emanating from the opposite side of the room.

The Harvard boys turned into a huddle. Papers flew, books were opened and indexes scrutinised. One stood up. “Objection, your honour.”

Rafferty looked down at him incredulously. “To what?”

“His vacation,” he said, without a hint of intelligence.

“Did I hear you correctly?”

The young lawyer adjusted his glasses and, despite one or two of the others tugging on his jacket vents, continued. “Your honour, this is clearly designed to cause what can only be described as criminal damage. It’s negligence on a grand scale. This robot – “

Rafferty winced.

“– could cause millions of dollars’ worth of damage to other countries; even loss of life.”

“This robot? You mean
your
robot counsel, you just won the case.”

“But your honour?”

People were getting far too excited now. He could see journalists practically setting fire to their notepads with the friction from their pens and the cameras were swivelling around desperately trying to get the most important shot. But all the time, the young man on his right just stared down at his phone, oblivious. It was time for this farce to end.

He banged the gavel down hard three times. Looking up he saw all eyes turn and people settle themselves. “Gentlemen, this case is now closed. However, I would like to see both counsels in my office. Case dismissed. Bailiff, clear the court.”

Doug, the large wall of a man who looked after the court room, gave a nod to his men and slowly the crowds started to be shepherded out; the guards making sure there was no nonsense. The lawyers gathered their papers and stuffed them into their cases before grudgingly filtering out past the man who had been keeping tabs on them from the back of the court. His name was Toby. Rafferty had met him briefly before the case at a luncheon. Strange how he’d known Rafferty would be the judge even though he hadn’t been assigned.

He had a quiet word with the lawyers and seemed to be attempting to soothe them. Despite winning, they had the look of defeat written all over their perfectly symmetrical faces. Finally, there was just Toby and Daniel left. Rafferty stood up and motioned them to follow him before leaving the court.