Murder Inc.: A Sci-fi Thriller: Book 1 (38 page)

Gutterson scrambled from his vehicle and hurried into the precinct building. On his way through the entry doors, he saw Smyth standing at the counter talking to one of the patrol officers. He thought about calling out to him, letting him know that things were finally happening, but they hadn’t spoken since Smyth had been removed from the case, and Gutterson still suspected Smyth's involvement with the delays in the initial approvals.

But Smyth swung around just as Gutterson passed. “Hey, John, how goes it?”

Gutterson didn’t stop. Nothing would stop him getting to the captain’s office, where—if all things had gone well—the chief was waiting. Smyth fell in beside him. “On my way to see the Captain.”

“How’s the suicide case going?”

Gutterson tipped his head side to side. “Not great.”

“Oh? I heard you were getting somewhere.”

He increased his pace, trying to leave Smyth behind, but his short legs somehow kept up. “I wish it were true.”

They reached the stairs where Gutterson prepared to ascend, intent on taking Camilleri to the meeting, when Smyth put a hand on his arm. Gutterson stopped and looked at it.

Smyth leaned in close and in a soft voice, said, “Listen, if you know what’s good for you, John, you’ll let the investigation drop, okay?”

A thought struck Gutterson like a jolt of electricity. He reached out and gripped the handrail. “Drop?”

Smyth shrugged, his fat lips pinched. “You know, don’t go any further with it. Cease investigating.”

Gutterson snatched his arm away. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“What do you—?”

Gutterson shoved him. “Don’t bullshit me!” Smyth fell back, his gentle expression folded into a snarl. “It wasn’t Newell at all. It was you. You didn’t even lodge those initial approval requests, did you?”

Smyth’s nostrils flared. “Get with the fucking program, John. You weren’t supposed to get this far. Don’t you take a hint? After last time I thought you would have put two and two together. You’re either stupid or stubborn.”

“Fuck you.” What did he do? Beat Smyth up? Make him pay for his treason? He could think of numerous responses, but the ultimate payback was to keep moving forward, get to the captain’s office and seal this thing for good. “You’re not a detective, asshole; you piece of shit.” Gutterson turned and started climbing the stairs.

“They’ll kill you and your family, John. They’ll do whatever it takes to suppress it. This thing is bigger than either of us. It’s bigger than anything you ever imagined.”

Keep going,
he told himself. He didn’t look back. He strode down the hallway to the conference room and found Camilleri working on one of the screens.

She glanced up at him and did a double take. “You look like you’re ready to kill.”

Gutterson knocked a stack of papers across the table. “It was Smyth sabotaging this case. He didn’t even hand the approval requests into Newell.” Realization spread over Camilleri’s face. Gutterson explained the exchange and his theory.

“That prick,” Camilleri said, falling back into the chair. “All along.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I confided in that guy about all sorts of things once upon a time.”

“He’ll get what he deserves later, but for now, we have an appointment in Cap’s office.”

Chief Lloyd Wikowski was sitting on the couch in Martinez’s office when Gutterson and Camilleri arrived. He was a heavy-set man, broad-shouldered, with an extra chin, his suit a size too small. He had a mess of greying blonde hair that had never seen a comb, and bulging blue eyes. They made their greetings, and then Wikowski spotted Camilleri.

“Who’s this?” Wikowski asked.

“She’s good,” Gutterson said.

Wikowski stiffened. “Look, this thing is on a need-to-know basis.”

“Sir, she’s been on this since the beginning. Without her, we wouldn’t be standing here now.” Camilleri’s lips curled slightly. “I trust her as much as I trust you or Captain Martinez.”

Wikowski nodded. “Very well. It’s just that I’ve had more heat from the commissioner than any other case in thirty years. Something’s wrong here. We need to be careful and cautious with every step.”

“Detective Camilleri is one of our best, Lloyd,” Martinez said.

“Your caution isn’t misplaced, though,” Gutterson said. He gave them a succinct account of his altercation with Smyth.

“I’ll make sure he’s investigated thoroughly once we get through today,” Martinez said.

Wikowski tipped his head towards Gutterson. “What’s your plan for this search?”

“As soon as we get the warrants, we'll search the premises. Based on my informant, the system keeps detailed lists and records of all the murders. And she has a drive that contains similar information given to her by one of the employees before he was killed. We can only access it on the site, though.”

“You’ll be taking a SWAT team in with you.”

“SWAT?”

Wikowski nodded. “I’ve notified the Department of Homeland Security, too. You can do the search, but if there’s anything of merit, they’ll want in. Longer term they will handle it, of course.”

“Sure,” Gutterson said but disappointment caused his head to drop.

They discussed tactics for the search and the precision of the law, recounting what must be done to ensure all evidence was admissible in court.

At a quarter to eight there was a knock on the door. Camilleri opened it. An officer handed her a set of documents and said to Martinez, “Warrants for Janefield Investments, sir.”

Martinez read them over. “You have the right to search for documents relating to the said accusations. Nothing more.”

“I want no media in on this,” Wikowski said. “And I want people cleared from around the streets.”

“What about the adjacent offices?” Gutterson asked.

“Lock ‘em in. Create a story about a gas leak. Don’t let ‘em out until this thing is covered.”

Gutterson couldn’t stand still. The confrontation with Smyth and the finale of all he had done before caused his nerves to buzz. He thought about Carolyn, Charlie Billings, and Dominic Curwood. He thought about Tabitha Marks, too. “When do we go?”

“Thirty minutes,” Cap said. “I’ve got as many police as I can get on this.”

“Good luc
k
,” the Chief said.

Fox stood in the doorway with his mouth agape. Tabitha, the daughter of the greatest friend he’d ever had sat behind his desk, the bright light of the computer terminal reflected onto her face. At first, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He’d been sure it was Jennings working to set him up. Fox had been wrong. The idea annoyed him.

“Hello, sir,” Tabby said.

Until then, he hadn’t really looked at her. He’d always kept his distance, enquiring about her progress through other channels. Her personnel photo did not do her looks justice, and it appeared she had lost weight since then. But now, staring at her in the soft light of his office, he saw that she looked just like her mother; the sky-blueness of her wide eyes, the small mouth, and the narrowed, almost pointy chin. Fox felt a pang of sadness at this.

“Hello, Bitty.”

She did not respond at first, but took a long moment before she stood, frowning with curiosity. “How did you know to call me that name?”

A thought struck him. Maybe she was working with Jennings. He had somehow recruited her to do his dirty work. “First, tell me why you’re in my office.”

She looked away. “I’m sorry.” She started around the desk towards the doors. “I’ll collect my things and handover my passes.”

Fox stepped into her path. “No. You’ll do nothing of the sort. You’re going to tell me why you’re here, and if you do that honestly, then we'll talk about your mother.” Tabitha stared for a long moment. Fox stepped back and closed the door. “Why?” He repeated. But she couldn’t keep his eye. She was indeed hiding something. “Who sent you, Tabitha? What did they ask you to do?”

“I’m…. sorry.”

Fox came forward. “Was it Jennings? Chekov?”

“No.”

Then, he got it, and it leapt out of his mouth. “The detective.” She looked away again. “What did he want?”

She lifted her hand, and it was then he saw the famous storage drive. “This.”

“Charlie’s?” She nodded. “He gave it to you.”

“Yes. Just before he was murdered.”

“You did well not to confess that to Jennings and Samantha.” Maybe he had underestimated her. “It won’t work on any computer outside our network,” Fox said.

“I know.”

“We’ve got our own unique operating system. The people who designed it are dead now, and those who work on it are paid enough to keep quiet.” He held out his hand out. “I need that back, Tabby.” She snatched her hand up and tightened her fist around it. “If Jennings catches you with it, he’ll kill you.”

“I can’t. They need it.”

“It can’t go down like this.” He lifted his hand. “Please. For your own sake.” She shook her head. How far did he push this? He was genuinely worried that Jennings wouldn’t be far away, and if he found her with any sort of involvement in it, he would kill her. She was one-half of a woman he had loved. He had to hold out for that, for Cassandra’s sake. They swapped places as Fox moved to the other side of the desk.

“What about my mother? I know the Company killed her. Did you have anything to do with it?”

“Give it to me.” She considered it. “Give it to me and I’ll tell you everything.” She did, handing it over and snatching her hand back, eyes lingering on the drive. Fox turned it over in his hand, a shadow of relief that company secrets would be safe another day. At least the police wouldn’t get their hands on it.

“Tell me… please.”

“It’s no accident you came to be working at this company, Tabby. I’ve been watching you for a long time.” Her face remained impassive. “I made a promise to your mother many years ago that I would look out for you once you left school.” Her eyes narrowed, but she did not speak. “As soon as I could maneuver you into the company, I did. In fact, I tried twice before, but you picked other roles.”

“How did you know my mom?”

He looked at her then, as if weighing up what he was about to say. “Your mother was the head of the U.S. division of this organization, the Chairperson for many years. Responsible for everything that happened on U.S. soil.”

Tabby’s mouth fell open. It hung for a moment before she snapped it shit and screwed up her face in revulsion. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not.”

“My mother died of cancer.”

“She did not die of cancer.”

It would rock her world, he knew, but she deserved the truth after all this time. Oh, how he had wanted to tell her. Cassandra had left the choice to him, trusting his judgment if the opportunity ever arose. And so it had.

“My mother didn’t die of cancer?” Fox shook his head. “Does my father know this?”

“No.” Fox wished he were delivering better news; wished he could reveal that her mother was living in Europe or Asia where she had gone to hide from the most ruthless organization on the planet. It was almost true. She had died on the way. It wasn’t supposed to have ended like that.

“Is she… still alive?” Her hopeful blue eyes broke Fox’s heart. He shook his head. She clicked her mouth shut again, staring at him, searching for a lie or the promise of something else, anything. “She’s really dead?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I won’t tell you how she died, but she did.”

Tabby straightened up and her expression stiffened. “And now you’re telling me she was responsible for sending God knows how many people to their deaths?”

“It can’t be looked at that way,” Fox said. “Death is a natural part of life, of keeping the population, the environment, and the ecology in balance.”

“Bullshit. That’s the same crap Tom told me. Is that how you guys sleep at night? Is that how my mother justified it?”

“This has all been going on for a long time, Tabby. Your mother didn’t create it. There were others before her. The whole process is essential to the survival of our species. It’s called the carrying capacity and measures the largest number of people the earth can sustain indefinitely, with the available food and water in the habitat."

“Tom’s already given me this spiel, but—”

Fox put up a hand. “Please, hear me out. It might be the best explanation you’ll get. It’s not fair you judge your mother solely off what you know.” Tabby fell silent. “We always expected that as the population size increased—specifically the density—birth rates would decrease and death rates would increase, balancing things out. But we were wrong. Medicinal technological advancements meant all aspects continued to rise. When the population rates didn’t slow, governments were faced with either manipulating the population themselves or letting nature take its course. The outcomes were unacceptable, and although people will never encounter them, let me assure you, they could not cope.”

“But how do you know?”

“We considered scenarios from the best minds on the planet. Every single one of them drew the same conclusions.” Tabby shook her head in disbelief. Fox went on before she could say anything. “We expected that the regulating factor would take care of it—things like insufficient space and food supply—but humans have a way of overcoming such problems. Nature has always kept things even through birth and death, Tabby. But humans altered that by prolonging the life cycle—people were living longer."

“I just can’t get my head around people dying when they don’t have to.”

“I know, but it’s the lesser of two evils. We forgo pain and suffering for the many. Without this dignified, random selection process, those of us who remained behind would suffer.”

“How can it be dignified?”

“It used to be more so. But it’s changing. I think that’s why I’ve struggled so much in the last few years. When your mother ran the Company, the entire process was by chance. Nobody outside of employees or their immediate families was exempt. She did maintain a sense of dignity. Now, it’s become different. The rules have changed, and the fairness your mother brought to it has disappeared.”

Tabby’s face softened and the fight disappeared from her posture. She considered it all for a long time. “What was she like?”

“You don’t remember her?”

“A little. But as an adult, I’d like to hear your perspective.”

Fox smiled. He wondered why he hadn’t spent time with this girl—woman—earlier. He would have enjoyed being reminded of Cassandra. “She was delightful, charming, with a great sense of humor. But she was tough. She never backed down. She had a vision, and her ethics were strict.”

“I’d like to hear more about her one day.”

“I’d like that too.”

Tabby shrugged. “So what now?”

“Leave. Come back on Monday.” He held up the device. “And I’ll get rid of this.” She almost looked disappointed. “You need to decide whether you want to work here or not.”

She shook her head. “I can’t work here. I don’t care why you’re doing it. No reason is strong enough for me.”

Fox nodded. “I can respect that. I won’t say I’m not disappointed, but—”

There was a crash from the doorway. One of the panels swung open and slammed into the wall. Jennings stood there with Samantha and beyond, in the hallway, the brute Isachenko from his security team. Fox looked at the drive in his hand and knew they were in trouble.