Inescapable (31 page)

Constance,
big-framed with enhanced muscle laid on top of a solid structure,
looked nervous as he was brought in and cuffed to the interview
room’s table. He had very short, dark brown hair, grey eyes with
nothing much in them, and solid features which could have been
handsome with a little work and the right light. Fox figured him
for ex-Army, probably heavy support and trained in powered armour
combat.

‘I don’t want
to talk to you,’ Constance said. ‘I don’t have to say anything
without my lawyer.’

‘Quite right,’
Fox replied. ‘So shut up and listen, and then you can decide on
whether you want that expensive lawyer August arranged for you to
come in and screw things up for you. The guy’s there to protect
your employer, not you.’

‘I don’t know
what–’

‘Hush, Philip.
You’re saying nothing without your lawyer, remember? I can call you
Philip, right? I’m Fox. Not sure whether he told you who I was
before he sent you to beat me up that time. I’m not a cop. I’m with
Palladium Security Services. I’m not here to talk about the death
of Detective Brownlow; I’m here to talk about Felix Kenan. He was
an old man who lived alone and he was murdered by two people who
drugged him, held him, and slit his throat.’

‘Never heard of
him.’

‘You’re not
very good at this not speaking thing, Phil. Thing is, I have
evidence suggesting that you and your friend Albert Overt visited
Felix Kenan’s house twice. The first time was when he was killed,
and the second time was when someone broke in and tried to sabotage
the electrical system.’

‘I have never
heard of–’

‘Yeah, you
said. So you and Al pay a couple of visits to Felix’s house, and
then the two of you come after me with shock rods. At that time, I
discovered that you used to work for Harper August. At least,
according to the data currently on record, you used to work for
him, but he made sure you looked like you’d been kicked out of his
company two weeks before you attacked me. Thing is, that’d mean you
were still working for him when you killed Felix Kenan. He didn’t
think of that. Of course, he hasn’t been thinking totally straight
for a while, has he? Ever since his granddaughter died, I figure.
But you gotta ask, when did he start ordering the deaths of old gay
guys?’

‘I don’t know
what–’

‘Of course,
that’s another thing. Felix was a homosexual, so if they can tag it
as a hate crime, then they’ll bury you. Of course, you’re
definitely
going down for killing a cop which… Well, they’ll
put you away in Cold Harbour for that one. No question. And I got
you bang to rights on it. I’ve got video, audio, the lot. Nothing
August does is going to get you out of that.’ Fox leaned forward,
locking her eyes to his. Everyone had heard of Cold Harbour, and
not in a good way; Fox could see fear stirring behind Constance’s
eyes. ‘Nothing. Maybe if you talk, tell us everything, then maybe
they’ll think about going easy on you. Twenty-five to life in
Rikers is better than never seeing sunlight ever again, right?’

‘They won’t
send me there. I’ve got help. I know people. My lawyer will–’

‘Get nowhere
with this one, Phil. You’re going down for the murder of a bent
cop. I’m going to make sure August goes down too. He’s not going to
be any help. He’s already in financial trouble. Did you know that?
He’s been pushing too hard to expand his property portfolio and APS
isn’t making him any money. Now he’s been named in this case. His
reputation is going to crash. He’s going to lose the few customers
he has. He’s going down, Phil.’ She sat back. ‘I just want to clear
up the Kenan case. I’d really appreciate it if you’d confess to
that one and then I can give the old guy some peace, you know?’ She
flashed him a smile and got to her feet. ‘Maybe I should let you
think on it. I’ll come back tomorrow and see what you think.’

She had just
made it to the door when Constance opened his mouth. ‘I want to see
the detective in charge of this case. I want to make a
statement.’

Fox smiled and
opened the door. ‘I’ll send him right in.’

19
^th
May.

The news channels had
been caught off guard by the arrest of Harper August. It had
happened at six in the evening and they were not expecting it, and
all that happened was a little coverage, with no comment from NAPA,
on the late night broadcasts. His release on bail was far more
heavily covered.

Fox watched the
old man, who actually looked more his age after a night in a NAPA
holding cell, leaving precinct 19’s HQ building while she ate her
morning cereal. The reports indicated that August had been charged
with conspiracy to commit murder, two counts, and there were other
charges being worked through, which meant that Constance had
spilled his guts like a man who had just downed eighteen pints of
beer in a record-breaking attempt.

The report was
wrapping up and Fox was finishing her last mouthful when Sam
appeared at the door, walking in with a slight scowl on his face.
‘They’re letting him out on bail?’

‘He’s an old
man and unlikely to be a danger to anyone,’ Fox replied. ‘They’ll
have his travel restricted so he won’t be going anywhere. And the
charges included two conspiracy to commits. He’ll be going down for
Felix as well as Brownlow.’ Fox’s lips curled. ‘I think Brownlow
would hate the fact that his killer is likely to have the murder of
a gay man on the docket at the same time. There’s some ironic
justice for you.’

‘You don’t
think August’s going to worm out of this?’

Fox considered.
There was no point in lying to Sam, especially if something could
go wrong and then did. ‘Normally I’d say this was where it became
the judiciary’s problem. I’d get all the evidence together, wrap it
up neatly, and hand it over to the prosecution. Now I’m not
involved in some of that and he
could
maybe get out of it,
but his reputation is going to go down the toilet and he’s probably
going to bankrupt himself fighting the case. If he’s convicted, he
may not get what I think he deserves. He’s old. He’s too old for
modern medicine to keep him going forever and he’s starting to push
his limits. Cosmetically they can keep patching him up, and they
can replace organs with cybernetics. He could end up on permanent
house arrest instead of locked away somewhere cold and dark.’

‘I’m not sure
that matters,’ Sam replied after a second. ‘If he’s convicted and
he leaves me alone, us alone, I think that may be enough.’

‘I keep
forgetting how magnanimous you can be. I’d want the old bastard
buried up to his neck in sand and left for the crows, but you’re
right. We’ll just have to make sure we get enough of a result to
ensure it.’

20
^th
May.

The request to attend a
meeting with Harper August at his home had come as something of a
surprise to Fox. That it was at his home was not such a big shock,
given that he was probably confined there unless allowed out by
specific order, but she was not sure why he wanted to see her at
all.

The house
itself was a large, brownstone structure facing the park and the
Metropolitan Museum of Art. Being confined to the place did not
look like it would be too terrible a proposition, as far as Fox was
concerned, though she knew it would drive her crazy after a few
days. It looked like the building had been put up in the thirties,
maybe the late twenties, with
some
modern considerations.
The actual structure did not look as good as Sam’s house, but that
was about to get a lot of modernisation and this was likely to stay
as it was until August’s death.

Fox was met at
the door by a butler type who was human, not an android. The hall
beyond the small porch was as big as Fox’s apartment and all the
decoration was real rather than virtual. August was a man who
valued property, it seemed, but there was something a little empty
about the place. Fox saw a woman in a maid’s uniform carrying a
tray. The maid seemed to be going to the same place that the butler
was taking Fox, a room at the back of the ground floor which Fox
expected to discover was an office.

It
was
an office, a large one with a huge, oak desk and two entire walls
set aside for video displays. Those were showing a huge number of
stock listings and other numbers, and they were real displays, not
virtual ones. Fox looked at the man sitting behind his desk and
wondered whether he had any form of implanted technology in
him.

‘Miss
Meridian,’ Harper August said as Fox was shown in. ‘Thank you for
joining me. Can I get you some coffee?’

‘Thanks, but
no. I’m not really sure why I’m here, Mister August.’

August gave a
nod and poured coffee for himself. ‘I have a proposition I wish to
put to you, Miss Meridian. Please hear me out before you jump to
conclusions about the nature of that proposition.’

‘Okay,’ Fox
replied. She settled into a straight-backed chair which, she
thought, was designed to put people on the opposite side of the
desk at a disadvantage. August played power politics even in his
own, private, home office. ‘The evidence compiled against you by
Palladium has been handed over to NAPA, so I’m not sure what you
think you can achieve by proposing anything to me, but okay.’

‘Justice. My
aim is justice, Miss Meridian. It always was, though’ – he drew in
a long breath, apparently considering his words – ‘I admit I may
have lost sight of that at some point. Almost four years ago, my
granddaughter was murdered.’

‘I know. I read
what was available publicly on the case.’

‘The public
data is lacking in significant detail. She was kidnapped from
Central Park, tortured for several days, killed, and her body was
dumped in an alley. Dumped, like garbage, Miss Meridian.’

‘You blamed
your son-in-law.’

‘I suspected
him. He was jealous of the attention I lavished upon Patricia. His
behaviour toward her was… unseemly after my daughter’s death.
Patricia was raped before she died, Miss Meridian, and I believe
Andrew was abusing her before she went missing. Or I did. I found
little evidence of it and I may have been wrong. A more reasonable
theory was that she was kidnapped by sprawlers, but no one was ever
identified.’

‘I’m not sure
that idea holds water either. How did they get her out of the park?
Where did they hide her for three days?’ Fox shook her head. ‘I get
it. You got no results in this case and you decided NAPA was
useless, so you created Augustine Property Services. Had much luck
in solving murders? They aren’t easy, especially when it’s
apparently a random killing.’

August appeared
to ignore the question. ‘The case against me relies on Constance’s
confession, some recordings which my lawyers could probably put in
bad light, and some email evidence which you will find it hard to
introduce in court. There is every possibility that I could avoid
conviction, NAPA is very likely to go for a deal to make the trial
easier, and whatever happens, my lawyers can keep me out of court
for years if I wish them to.’

Fox gave him a
half-smile. ‘The way your finances are, you can’t afford a long
legal battle, and the more you fight it, the more people are going
to figure you’re guilty and trying to avoid time in Rikers.’

‘True, yes. An
alternative would be for me to lay everything out and beg for
mercy. I’m an old man and I won’t live that long in prison. I could
make this all easy. Privately, I’ll admit I may have gone too far
and there would be some justice in this, but I
am
an old
man, and stubborn, and I
will
see my granddaughter’s killer
behind bars!’

Fox looked at
him, her brows furrowed as she realised where he was going with
this. ‘So that’s your proposition? I find your daughter’s killer
and you go quietly? It’s a cold, dead case. NAPA wouldn’t have held
back on trying to resolve it. Precinct eighteen treats people like
you as priorities. It’s an insult to the entire idea behind public
policing, but they
would
have tried to solve the case.’

‘I… realise it
may not be easy. Reopen the case, see what you can do. I won’t put
unreasonable obstacles in the way of my trial if you’ll look into
Patricia’s murder.’

‘You’re being
too reasonable. What’s to stop me going through the motions until
you’re convicted and then dropping it?’

August was
silent for a few seconds. He lifted his cup to his lips, sipping
coffee. Fox saw the tremble in his hand, saw that he was trying to
hide it, and decided it was real. ‘Miss Meridian, I can do research
as well. Open the case, examine the forensics analysis on
Patricia’s body. Then, if you can drop the case once I am safely
behind bars, I will have severely misjudged your character.’

‘Okay,’ Fox
said. ‘My PA will have Palladium request the case files from NAPA.
I assume I can use your name on the request? A member of the family
wishing to have the files reviewed will carry a lot of weight with
the judiciary.’ She got a nod in reply. ‘I can’t promise I’ll solve
it, but I can try.’

‘I believe,
Miss Meridian, that your try will be considerably better than
anything I or NAPA have managed.’

Fox was not so
sure, but Patricia Randall had done nothing to deserve her fate, as
far as Fox knew. Why should a woman’s grandfather’s crimes stand in
the way of justice for her?

New York Metro, 21
^st
May
2060.

Terri was smiling,
which was a good sign. It was Friday night and she was out at a
club, 27Lex, with friends, but more importantly, she was back on
Earth. She was, of course, saying nothing in public, but her return
from Jenner crater with a genuine smile on her face suggested that
Yliaster was finally working as it was meant to.