The Administration Series (10 page)

Despite Tillotson's assurance, he half expected Justice to put up a fight. They wouldn't want to lose the case, especially not to I&I. Investigation and Interrogation had been two separate divisions within the Department of Justice before the great reorganisation began. In the ensuing political turf war, they had been torn from their home and given to the newly created Int-Sec. The administrative problems caused by their separation from Justice were still a daily nuisance.

In the old days, the division which became I&I had worked on a broad range of crimes, from major fraud, to murder, to fomenting dissent, to active resistance to the authority of the Administration — anything, in fact, where the sentence might potentially be death or re-education. Now it concentrated on political or politically important crimes, leaving the more mundane investigations to the Department of Justice civilian police. Inevitably, some cases fell into the no man's land between them.

Toreth's new case, with one important death and one unimportant, and only a tenuous connection between them, was as halfway as could be imagined. Though loath to take Tillotson's advice on anything, a firm approach seemed most likely to succeed. Get his own people in and get rid of Justice quickly, before they put down roots.

When he reached the AERC, the half-dozen vehicles in dark blue Justice livery indicated the strength of the opposition. However, to his surprise, the first person he saw there was wearing the black I&I uniform. Harry Belqola, a recent acquisition for his investigation team, leaned against the wall in the hazy autumn sunlight, his eyes closed.

Toreth approached silently, then coughed.

Brown eyes opened wide in surprise, and the lean body jerked quickly upright.

"Keeping busy, Belqola?" Toreth asked.

The junior para-investigator's dark skin flushed a deeper shade. Looked good on him, although Toreth had a policy of not fucking inside his own team — the complications were usually tedious.

"I didn't hear you arrive, Para," Belqola said, tugging his jacket straight.

"Obviously. What's going on?"

"Sara called me and told me about the new Investigation in Progress, so I came straight here."

Toreth calculated distances and times. "You weren't in work when she spoke to you."

"No. Sorry, Para."

Toreth smiled pleasantly. "Do you know how long a list of people I have applying for my team? I could find half a dozen new juniors — today, if I needed them. Maybe not with quite such impressive training grades, but I expect most of them could set an alarm."

He waited to see if the man would produce some feeble excuse — or even a good excuse, neither of which would interest him.

Instead, he nodded and said, "Yes. I'm sorry, Para."

"Don't be sorry, be punctual. Why are you out here?"

"Justice wouldn't let me on the scene without a senior." Belqola waved to the assembled cars. "They look pretty well entrenched."

Toreth took a deep breath of the crisp air, enjoying the anticipation. "Do they indeed."

After a short but bracing discussion with the Justice guard on the main door, Toreth found reception crawling with Justice officers, most of whom looked as if they had little to do. None of them challenged him, so he ignored them.

On reception, he noticed the same woman who'd been there for his last visit. She looked understandably unsettled by events, although when he strolled over, she collected herself.

"Can I help you?"

"Very probably." He glanced at her nametag. Lillias Brinton. "My name is Senior Para-investigator Toreth, from the Investigation and Interrogation Division."

He paused, and a small frown creased her brows. Remembering Marcus Toth, no doubt. "You —" she began. Then the frown smoothed away to blank politeness. "Yes, sir?"

"We're taking over here. I'd like an announcement made throughout the building, please. By authority of the Investigation and Interrogation Division, all personnel are to stay in their offices until someone comes to speak to them. That shouldn't take more than an hour or two. More of my staff will be arriving soon — someone will look after reception while you're interviewed. Until then, ask any external callers to try again tomorrow."

She nodded. "Inspector Paris has already asked me to do those things for the Justice Department."

"Did he? Good." Pleasantly surprising competence on the part of Justice. "In that case, just stay where you are until someone takes a statement. Do you know where Paris is?"

"Right here."

The voice from behind Toreth startled him, but he managed to turn slowly. One of the Justice officers in reception must have been on his comm.

The man's pale blue eyes assessed Toreth, peering out of a heavily fleshed face. "Senior Para-investigator Toreth?"

"Yes."

Paris's eyes narrowed at Toreth's failure to add the 'sir' the Inspector rated, but with Tillotson's encouragement to be rude, he didn't see any percentage in diplomacy.

"I understand that you've come to see if I&I have any interest in this case?" Paris asked.

"Then you understand wrongly. We have authority here. I'd like you to remove your staff from the building as soon as my team arrives."

"If you'd consider making it a joint investigation, my men would be — "

"I have sufficient staff for the investigation, thank you." Through the glass of the main entrance, Toreth caught sight of the first two black I&I cars arriving. First out were all four investigators on his personal team: Barret-Connor, Mistry, Wrenn and Lambrick. Sara was on form. Turning, he waved Belqola over.

"Para-investigator Belqola will liaise with you regarding the handover of documents and everything else you might have."

That would make a suitable punishment for tardiness.

Toreth waited in reception until he saw the last of the Justice officers off the premises. His own small team was reinforced by temporary assignees from the I&I investigation pool, and he dispatched them through the building — to guard the corpse and surroundings until the forensics specialists appeared, to patrol corridors, and to begin taking statements from the more junior staff. The important corporates he'd handle in person.

The Systems team also arrived to secure the SimTech security recordings and begin an assessment of what other computer systems they would need access to, though most of that would have to wait for warrants to overcome commercial confidentiality privileges. Brinton had already supplied him with a list of staff currently present in the building, along with times of arrival — a perk of a murder (potential murder, he reminded himself) committed in a secure access building. Exactly how secure was one of the questions he'd need to address soon.

Leaving Stephen Lambrick in reception to handle any new arrivals or unlikely rearguard actions by Justice, Toreth headed for the lift. He noticed, as he hadn't on his previous visit, that the lift appeared to be the only way into the rest of the building, and that the recessed lift entrance was panelled in matte black plastic — detectors of some kind, or several kinds. He'd already sent his most senior investigator, Ainsley Barret-Connor, to speak to the head of corporate security as a priority.

Whom to speak to first, Warrick or Keilholtz? Did the head of a minor corporation rate a visit before the personal admin of a Legislator? Too close to call, so he picked the nearest.

Keilholtz was waiting for him in a small office on the first floor. As Toreth entered, he stood up.

Ten years' experience had taught Toreth that many people who saw an I&I uniform approaching under these circumstances appeared at least a little apprehensive. However hard the Administration pushed the line that the Investigation and Interrogation Division was a virtuous force for ensuring the safety of citizens against terrorists and other criminals, for those caught up in an investigation the second 'I' tended to take on overwhelming significance.

Keilholtz looked positively delighted to see him.

"Senior Para-investigator . . . ?"

"Val Toreth. You're Clemens Keilholtz?"

The man nodded, and Toreth shook the offered hand. Keilholtz's grip was neutral, neither firm nor tentative, and his palm neither cool nor warm. It fitted the rest of him — smart but not expensive suit, neat hair in a hard-to-define mid-brown, unremarkable face. He looked older than the thirty or so Toreth guessed him to be, but he would probably appear much the same in twenty years' time. A professional bureaucrat who would blend, chameleon-like, into any background.

Toreth tried not to hold it against him. "Thank you for calling us. Very public-spirited of you."

Keilholtz spread his hands, deflecting the dry compliment. "My primary motive was to act in the interests of the Legislator."

Toreth sat and placed a small camera on the table — standard procedure for all interviews. He set it to record to his hand screen as well as transmit securely back to I&I, and checked the picture as Keilholtz sat opposite him. "And what is the Legislator's interest in SimTech?"

"A professional one. The creation of virtual worlds also creates a requirement that new laws be drafted to regulate them. Legislator Nissim heads the Science and Technology Law Division."

"She doesn't like the sim?" Toreth asked.

"Ah, no. Far from it. She believes that this technology has great potential, both to provide something to prevent idle minds from entertaining unfortunate ideas, and to unite citizens across the regions of the Administration."

"People who'll be able to afford the sim can buy an air ticket. Or probably a private jet."

Keilholtz acknowledged the point with a polite smile. "In the short term, that is true, but Legislator Nissim prefers to take the long view. Eventually, the sim will be affordable for all. A question of time, or so the Legislator believes. You know what Dr Johnson said about patrons."

Toreth didn't know, didn't much care, but felt obliged to ask. "Well?"

"Someone who watches a drowning man struggle, then burdens him with help when he reaches land."

A drowning — Toreth swallowed, a faint ringing in his ears. He mustn't start to think about it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice sounding harsh even to himself.

Keilholtz's eyebrow twitched at the tone, but he said, "That there's little point in taking a friendly interest in well-established technologies or large corporations. The Legislator prefers to give whatever help she can to those who need it the most."

'Whatever help she can'. Such a powerful supporter at the European Legislature was . . . well, if not more than money could buy, then far more than a fledgling corporation could afford.

"Do you know the dead girl?"

Keilholtz shook his head. "To tell the truth, I don't even know her name — only that she was found dead in a sim couch. I've never visited the building before, so I know only the senior corporate figures here."

"Can I ask what today's meeting was about?"

"I, ah —" Keilholtz frowned. "I suppose that under the circumstances, the Legislator would have no objection. I was supposed to have a demonstration of an upgraded version of the sim. The Legislator has two units installed in her home."

Nice use of Administration resources. "Who did you speak to today?"

"The receptionist — I'm afraid I forget her name. I called the Legislator immediately. Shortly afterwards, Justice kindly escorted me in here."

"You came to New London today?"

"Yes. I flew in first thing this morning." Keilholtz looked at his watch. "I had arranged for the demonstration, and after that I had a meeting with the directors. I was due to fly back to Strasbourg this afternoon. I imagine that my return will now be delayed?"

Toreth considered. Technically, he had every right to ask the man to stay in New London. On the other hand, inconveniencing the personal admins of legislators wasn't policy — Tillotson's or his.

"I think you can go back. If we have any further questions, we'll contact you there."

On his way to see Warrick, he detoured to have a look at the corpse in situ. Toreth had vaguely wondered if he'd met the girl during his tour of the lab, but when he peered in through the doorway, the body on the couch was unfamiliar. A plain girl, thin, with artificially blonde hair. And, most noticeably of all, very dead.

It wasn't the room he'd used yesterday with Warrick; it was less cluttered and the sim setup itself appeared simpler. That could, of course, be his memory playing tricks. Over his career Toreth had learned not to rely on anyone's recollections, even his own; he had heard too many witnesses give honestly recounted but wildly inaccurate stories.

The newly arrived I&I forensics team was in the process of negotiating the handover from their Justice opposite numbers. The atmosphere was friendly enough. Slightly insulated from the interdepartmental politics, the speciality services tended towards better relationships than did the management. Technically, management included, at the bottom end, Toreth himself, although he would never have classified himself as such.

He coughed to attract attention, then asked, "What's the story, ah — ?"

The head of the Justice team stood up from beside the couch. "Muller, sir."

Very polite, although addressing someone only a little over half his age as 'sir' clearly hadn't improved his day. "Call me Para. How, when — all the usual."

"Twenty-two hundred, give or take a little. How, you'll have to ask them." He gestured to the I&I team. "Although there are lots of things it wasn't. She hasn't been shot, stabbed, strangled, beaten to death, or poisoned with anything I can pick up here."

"Give me a guess."

The man looked pained. "I'm not psychic."

"Come on — you'll never have to see her again."

The man smiled wryly. "There is that, Para. If you insist — I'd say she stopped breathing. That's what it looks like to me. I know — that's only a symptom. But I'm not going as far as a cause — you know what's likely as well as I do."

Drugs of some kind, he meant. Had there been anyone else in the other couch when it had happened? Sim sex with extra spice? Toreth wondered, in passing, whether Kelly used the same body in the sim as he was looking at now. No reason not to try something a little more attractive in a fantasy world.