Kop (37 page)

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Authors: Warren Hammond

BOOK: Kop
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I hit the street and was instantly drubbed by pouring rain. I called Paul. His holo materialized on the street, falling rain making his image blur. “Hold on, Juno.” His holo froze on hold. Damn!

I made for the car, Paul’s frozen holo floating alongside. I called Maggie. Her holo appeared on my other side, the three of us moving through the downpour. I blurted, “Where are you, Maggie?”

“I’m at the station. Where are you?”

“They just let me go. I’m on my way to the car.”

“What happened? They wouldn’t tell me anything. All I know is Chief Chang is out as chief, and C of D Banks is in charge. Nobody knows why.”

“They’re forcing me to testify against Paul.”

“You agreed?”

“They have me dead to rights. They were going to arrest Niki.”

“Niki? What for?”

“Never mind that. We can still pull this off, Maggie. I’m going to organize a raid of the spaceport.”

“You’re not a cop anymore, Juno.”

“Paul and I still have loyal friends in KOP. They’re not all rats. We’ll find somebody to do it.”

“What if it leaks back to Simba and the mayor?”

“We go anyway. We’ll find something…we
have
to find something and find it fast, before the Bandur cartel crashes and the whole city comes under their control. Get all the paperwork together on the shipping orders. We’ll need names,
tracking numbers—anything related to Vanguard Supplies. I’ll call you when we’re ready to move.”

We’d get proof of the slavery operation, proof of the mayor’s involvement. Then they’d have to reinstate Paul. They’d let me recant my statement. I’d claim I signed it under duress.

I made it to the car and climbed inside. Holo-Paul passed through the passenger side door and took a seat. I waited impatiently until Holo-Paul finally unfroze. “Juno,” he said.

“They’re making me testify against you.” I spat the words so fast that they were hardly intelligible.

“I heard.”

“They were going to arrest Niki.”

“I know, Juno. It’s okay. You did what you had to do.”

“I’m sorry, Paul. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You had no choice. You’re forgiven, okay?”

The knot in my gut began to loosen. “Thanks, Paul.”

“Listen, Juno, you don’t need to worry about this anymore. You’re off the hook. Sasaki and I have it under control. We just made the decision to go to plan B while you were on hold.”

“What’s plan B?”

“We’re going to take him out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mayor Samir. We’re putting out a contract on him.”

“Wait, Paul, there may be another way. Let Maggie and me raid the spaceport. We’ll get you evidence of the slave trade.”

“It’s too late for that, Juno. We’re going ahead and offing the bastard. He doesn’t know who he’s messing with.” Holo-Paul smiled all chipper. I could picture Real-Paul’s expression, closed fist, gritted teeth.

“Wait, let’s talk about this first.”

“The decision’s already made, Juno.”

“Dammit, Paul, let me handle this. I’ll prove the mayor and Simba are running slaves. Once we get that proof, we’ll be able
to say that they trumped up the charges against you. We’ll say we were probing into the slavery ring and the mayor fired you to kill the investigation. You’ll come out smelling rosy.”

“No. This way is better. You can’t guarantee you’ll get the evidence.”

“Think it through, Paul. The mayor just fired you, and the next day the mayor shows up dead? Everybody will know you were behind it. You’ll lose the public’s support. Once that happens, you’re finished.”

Paul spoke with steely resolve. “He’s taking KOP away from me, from
us
. I’m not going to let him get away with it.”

“He already took it away. They’re going to charge you with corruption. After you kill him, you think the new mayor’s going to reappoint you?”

“If I lean on him hard enough, he will. I’ll show him pics of his dead predecessor, and he’ll learn to stay out of my way.”

“You think you can intimidate the entire city?”

“If that’s what it takes. We took over KOP, you and me. We can take over the mayor’s office, too.”

“You took over KOP because you wanted to make a difference. What do you want now?”

After an annoyed sigh, he said, “That was a long time ago. I was a fool to think I could change anything. Lagarto can’t be helped, you know that.”

I paused for a few seconds, arranging the words in my head. “You know what your problem is, Paul? You always think too big. Maybe saving the planet is beyond your reach, but you have it in your power to stop the slavery ring. As we speak, Simba’s people are trolling Tenttown, buying up kids.”

“What difference would it make if we did stop Simba? Another slavery ring would just take its place.”

“Yeah, but until it did, think about all the kids that would’ve been saved. It would make a difference to
them.
” I took a deep
breath. “Listen to me, Paul, if you kill the mayor you won’t get KOP back. Call off the hit, and we’ll talk it out. Where are you?”

“I’m at Bandur’s.”

“I’m coming over.” I started the car and steered for the Bandur place. “Tell me you won’t do anything until we talk.”

I felt encouraged when Paul didn’t respond immediately. He was thinking it over. I was getting through. “You know I’m right,” I said.

“Okay, Juno. We’ll talk first.”

“Is Tipaldi there?”

“Yeah, he’s around here somewhere.”

“Watch out for him, Paul. He’s with Simba.”

“You sure?”

“Hundred percent.”

“Okay, Juno. I gotta go.”

I gunned the gas.

twenty-nine

I
SWUNG
the car onto Bandur’s street. I knew that if I could just keep Paul from killing the mayor, we could turn it all around. It wasn’t too late.

I left the car running, jumped out into monsoon rain, and rushed up the walk past shrub animals that accused me, the mayor’s turncoat witness, with still stares. Bandur’s door swung open of its own accord. The home system’s voice welcomed me and told me to go to the lounge. I skidded over the stone floor with wet shoes, my twisted ankle making me slide all the more. The lounge door moved aside for me.

The lounge was decorated with recessed lighting and space furniture. Tip Tipaldi came my way.

I met him nose to nose. “You’re a traitor. You told Simba about the vid of the mayor.”

Tipaldi thumped me in the stomach. I keeled over into a fetal ball, gulping for oxygen. I rolled on the lounge floor, Tipaldi’s spit-shined shoes at eye level.

I gasped, “I have to talk to Paul.”

A voice sounded from the far side of the room. “You’re too late, Juno. You missed him.”

I looked around, but couldn’t see the source of the voice from my floored perspective. A pair of scuffed shoes with mismatched socks walked out from behind the bar—Simba. A second pair followed, imported leather—mayor. NO!

I looked up to see the two of them standing in front of me.
The smell of recent lase-fire registered in my nose.
Oh god, no.
It couldn’t be. Paul was still alive. He would still pull through this one. He’d been down before, but he’d always wound up on top. He was too smart to let this happen. He was too damn smart.

The mayor spoke with a politician’s rehearsed tone. “Sorry we can’t talk. We’re on our way out. We’ll be placing our anonymous call in ten minutes, so you won’t want to dillydally.”

I watched the three of them leave, Tipaldi carrying a box brimming with tech equipment—Bandur’s books.

I called out for Paul, knowing there’d be no response. “Paul!” My stomach felt like it had collapsed in on itself. I took deep breaths to keep from vomiting. I crawled on all fours, my arms and legs shaking. I made it to the bar and took a look behind. Matsuo Sasaki and Ben Bandur were lying on the tiled floor, one blackened hole in the back of each head. They’d been done from a kneeling position—execution style.

I grabbed a bar stool and pulled myself up. Music was playing—some kitschy lounge tune.

“Paul! Where are you? Paul?”

I saw him. I went to him, crossing the room on wobbly legs. I said to him, “I’m sorry.” He didn’t answer. He was sitting in an egg-shaped chair that floated over the floor, lase-pistol in his mouth, his brains slagged across the eggshell back of the chair.

I was home, on my sofa, watching the report for what must be the tenth time—Jessie Khalil on the street holding an umbrella, her hair sprinkled with just the perfect amount of rain. Her hair was wet enough to show how she was toughing it out in the elements to bring us the story, yet not so wet that her salon ’do lost shape.

“I am here at the home of Benazir Bandur, son of the deceased Ram Bandur reputed crime boss.”

“His son Benazir…”

“…has denied any involvement in criminal enterprises. A denial that is now proved unequivocally false.”

“It was early this morning that police were given an anonymous call stating that a shooting had occurred on these premises. It is believed that the call came from somebody on the house staff. When police arrived on the scene, they were confronted with a story so shocking that—”

Niki came out of the bedroom. She slept late this morning—pain-pill hangover. “Why didn’t you come to bed?”

I didn’t answer.

I made room for Niki on the couch.

Jessie Khalil reported on. “…Koba’s honored police chief for the past ten years was removed from office by Mayor Samir. Last night, the mayor’s office announced that it was going to file an indictment this morning formally charging Chief Chang with multiple counts of racketeering and conspiracy.”

“As you all know, Mayor Samir has made the elimination of corruption in the Koba Office of Police his highest priority since he was elected. We are prepared to take the first step in that direction by filing charges against former Chief of Police Paul Chang, who we allege is guilty of racketeering, corruption, conspiracy, and participating in a criminal enterprise. Former Chief Chang was relieved of his duties immediately when we secured our key piece of evidence, the testimony of police informant Juno Mozambe. Detective Mozambe and Chief Chang were partners many years ago, and Detective Mozambe is set to testify in court against his former boss.”

Niki’s hand slid over to hold mine.

“In a bizarre twist, those charges will no longer need to be filed. Based on the initial findings of the Koba Office of Police, it appears that former Chief Chang came to the home of Benazir Bandur and killed both him and his associate, Matsuo Sasaki, before turning the weapon on himself.”

Niki’s fingernails dug into my palm.

Jessie Khalil rattled on. “Here’s acting Chief of Police Diego Banks.”

“Our initial findings indicate a murder/suicide. It has come as a total shock to me personally as well as to so many of our finest officers that Chief of Police Paul Chang was conspiring with Benazir Bandur, one of our city’s most despicable criminals. It appears that Chief Chang was enraged upon learning of his impending indictment, and he took out his anger on the criminals who had led him down this path. He came to this residence and murdered both Benazir Bandur and Matsuo Sasaki. Uncertain of his imminent life in prison, he sadly took his own life.”

“The mayor is expected to make a statement later this morning, so be sure to stay with us. We will continue to bring you updates as soon as we have them. This is Jessie Khalil reporting for Lagarto Libre.”

Niki rested her head on my shoulder. I ran my fingers through her hair. I felt her tears on my neck. For me, the tears wouldn’t come. I squeezed a data chip in my hand and thought about the job I had to do.

thirty

N
OVEMBER 4, 2787

I
SAT
on the roof of my house, watching the stars as lizards skittered around, soaking up the night sky with me. I took a hit of brandy straight from the bottle. The alcohol did a pretty good job of numbing me. I’d try to quit tomorrow; maybe I’d feel better.

I raised the bottle to Paul. Sorry, old friend. I should have known. Prosecuting Paul would have been ugly. He’d known too many people who could’ve created problems for Simba and the mayor. The corruption investigation was just a cover. They were planning to murder Paul all the while and sell it to the public as a suicide. They set me up. They used me to give their murder/suicide story credence. I was their tool, the pawn in a scheme to take over KOP and the Bandur organization. It played perfect in the news: Chief Chang had been angry and depressed; he’d just gotten fired; he’d been on his way to jail. The clincher: his old partner was going to squeal on him.

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