The Storm Maker (4 page)

       He
only had to look at the front page. There was the headline ‘Ironbridge Bank
Robbed’ under the paper’s title,
Ironbridge Daily News
, and the whole of
the page was taken up by the account and interviews regarding the robbery. He
had heard about it a couple of days ago from Mr. Helvyk, the owner and head
manager of the Helvyk National Bank with whom he had played a couple of polo
matches a few years back. Mr. Helvyk wanted Mr. Warwyk’s help in getting the
police to take a more proactive role and prioritize solving this and similar
bank robberies. While Helvyk National Bank was only the twenty-third largest
bank in the country, Warwyk Savings Bank was the second biggest in the whole of
Starfire Nation by amount of deposits. Started by his great-grandfather it was
the bank that purchased large amounts of government bonds as well.

       Mr.
Warwyk had promised to help but he wanted to get a proper account of the
robbery before he took any action. After he finished reading the front page and
a small section of the second page, he slammed the paper down on the table.

       “Ninth
big robbery in the last few months,” Mr. Warwyk said, “I don’t remember any
year when so many banks were robbed of so much money.”

       “So
are you going to meet the head of the House of Police?” his assistant asked
him.

       “I
definitely will and I should pull his nose for letting this get out of hand,”
Mr. Warwyk said angrily. “Did you find out who it is?”

       “Constellar
Taktar,” his assistant replied. “Do you want me to call his office and book an
appointment?”

       “No,
I am going to crash at his door,” Mr. Warwyk said. “Have my plane ready. I will
be at the airport in a couple of hours. I want to reach the King Starryvk City
by midnight so I can meet him tomorrow morning as soon as they open.”

       “Yes
sir,” his assistant said and walked away to make the arrangements. Mr. Warwyk
went back to his mansion thinking that his grandchildren weren’t going to be
too happy, however this was too important to postpone any longer.

* * *

08/15/958

Mr.
Warwyk took a taxi from the airport to the headquarters of the House of Police.
Normally, he would have had a company car drive him, but that would have taken
time to arrange. The House of Police was the government department that oversaw
all town police departments. Every five years it appointed the police chiefs of
all the towns in Starfire nation, and it ensured the compliance of the police
with government’s rules of operations. The town police had investigative and
arrest powers within their own towns only, however the House of Police had the
authority to put together police teams for particular cases and endow them
temporarily with national investigative and arrest powers. Mr. Warwyk’s mission
today was to make such a team formation happen.

       The
taxi dropped him off outside the gates of the House of Police. The gate was
open and four policemen stood guard, two on each side, armed with repeating
rifles on their shoulders. There were ten-foot tall concrete walls on either
sides of the gate that enclosed the main building of the House. Mr. Warwyk
walked up to the gate and inside without being stopped or asked about his
business. He was wearing his purple suit over a white shirt and black pants,
the unofficial uniform of the owners and head managers of the private
companies. In Starfirian corporate culture, only one person in an entire
company usually wore purple suits; two if the owner and the head manager were
two different individuals. A purple suit was the most commonly recognized
indicator of a person’s position as a big boss and Mr. Warwyk believed this is
why the gate police did not bother to stop him.

       There
was a large lawn on both sides of the road leading to the building. The
building was five stories tall and shaped like an equal sized cross. Its first,
third and fifth floors were colored with white glass while the second and
fourth floors were of red—King’s Red—glass, representing the colors of the
police uniform—King’s red shirt and hat, white pants, belt and boots.

       Mr.
Warwyk slowly walked the length of the road to the front doors. Here there were
more guards, four patrol cars with two parked on each side of the door and
twelve armed policemen patrolling the front. No doubt there were more on the
sides and the back as well. This was the national headquarters of the police
and the security reflected that.

       Mr.
Warwyk walked through the front doors and presented himself at the desk where
the middle-aged receptionists were just getting started for their workday.

       “I
am here to meet with Constellar Taktar,” he said to one of them.

       “Do
you have an appointment sir?” she asked and started looking through a calendar.

       “No,”
he replied.

       “Well,
you are lucky. You are the first private visitor today,” she said. “Even so, it
will be one or two hours before I can schedule you with Constellar Taktar.”

       “No,”
he said. “Tell Constellar Taktar that Mr. Warwyk, the owner and head manager of
the Warwyk Savings Bank is here to meet him.”

       His
firm reply raised a few eyebrows from the secretaries and turned a few heads
from the other visitors in the room. Almost everyone had heard of the Warwyk
Savings Bank, for all he knew some of them had deposits and loans with his
bank. He had learned over the years of his business experience that a show of
confidence could open otherwise closed doors. He smiled at her as she turned
around and picked up a phone.

       He
looked around the main reception area where sofas and comfortable seats for
visitors were arranged in a semi-circle around the central receptionist desks.
Ten to fifteen police chiefs were quietly sitting there. Big shots all of them
in their own towns; here they patiently and humbly awaited their turn to meet
their political bosses. Perhaps some were here to beg for more funds to hire
more police in their towns, others might be here to answer complaints filed
against them by someone in their towns, and still others to request help with
solving some case.

       “Constellar
Taktar will see you now Mr. Warwyk, in his office on the fifth floor,” the
receptionist said after putting down the phone. “The office is straight down
from the elevator. It will be the only one with lights right now.”

       “Grateful,”
Mr. Warwyk said and walked to the elevators.

       It
happened that Taktar was not in his office and it was closed. The floor was nearly
empty as the staff had not yet arrived. Mr. Warwyk walked the hallways till he
found a big conference room that was lighted with a person standing behind a
singular chair placed at the head of the table with five chairs each on each
side. Mr. Warwyk knocked on the half-open door and said, “I am looking for
Constellar Taktar.”

       “Come
on in Mr. Warwyk,” the man said, “I am Taktar, apologize for the confusion. I
meant to say conference room to the desk lady downstairs. When I called her
again, you were already on your way up.”

       “Anyways,”
Mr. Warwyk said, “where is everybody else?”

       “They
will trickle in,” Taktar said, “I am the Head of the House of Police so I have
to be early. Why? Did you want to talk to anyone else on the House as well?”

       “No,
you will do,” Mr. Warwyk replied.

       “Well
in that case, have a chair,” Taktar said.

       “Never
mind, I won’t be long,” Mr. Warwyk replied.

       “I
am presuming you are here about that bank robbery in Ironbridge?” Taktar asked
and after Warwyk nodded he continued, “If you had called ahead I would have had
the Ironbridge police chief rush me his report of the robbery for our
discussion.”

       “If
I had called ahead,” Mr. Warwyk chuckled, “you would have found an important
appointment for today.”

       “Well,
we are here to help,” Mr. Taktar grinned, “I know Ironbridge was a big hit of
two point three million stars, but we are going to get these robbers.”

       “Two
million, three-hundred-fifty-six thousand, seven-hundred and eighty-eight
stars,” Mr. Warwyk said, “Mr. Helvyk himself told me the exact amount. And we
bankers are not happy with the way the police is handling these robberies.
There have been nine armed bank robberies with over one million stars in loss
in each one over the last few months by gunmen armed with automatic rifles!
This has never happened before and you haven’t even appointed a national
investigation team for this.”

       “We
don’t take over the cases from the town police unless the chief requests us to
or if there has been a year since the crime and they haven’t made much
progress,” Taktar said. “That is our procedure.”

       “And
you can’t change it? Is that mandated by the Constellation?” Mr. Warwyk asked.
Constellation was the law-making body of the Starfire Nation.

       “No,
but changing it would require a vote by the full House of Police,” Taktar said,
“That whole process would take a month assuming it is even approved. It is
easier if a police chief requests our help and I am happy to tell you that the
Ironbridge police chief has done just that. He informed me over the phone that
he will be sending a formal, written request for us to take over along with his
official report.”

       “And
how long will all this take?”

       “Two
to three weeks,” Taktar said.

       “By
then they may have robbed two more banks,” Mr. Warwyk said exasperated. “Never
mind the police team. I want you to do something else for me; I want you to
hand this case over to SPASI.”

       SPASI
was the spy and detective department of the Starfirian state. It had earned a
reputation over the years for cracking complex cases and its detectives were
known for their sharpness.

       “Bank
robberies are police jurisdiction,” Taktar said.

       “But
syndicates are SPASI jurisdiction,” Mr. Warwyk replied, “These robberies were
well-planned in advanced, locations and timing of cash scouted out, and
executed with army-like discipline. I mean they had automatic rifles. Small
time outlaws don’t work like this, they wave a couple of pistols, grab whatever
is in the counter and run, not stick around to break open the vault, dig
tunnels and hold off an entire police department.”

       “Maybe
they are a syndicate, but even then I can’t just hand it over to SPASI,” Taktar
said.

       “WHY
NOT?” Mr. Warwyk spoke louder.

       “Mr.
Warwyk I don’t mean to imply that we don’t want to hand it over to SPASI
because we don’t want them to take credit for it, it’s not that at all,” Taktar
said, “What I mean is that I can’t tell SPASI what cases to take. Just because
it might be a syndicate, doesn’t mean SPASI has to take it. Police has
jurisdiction over all the crimes and SPASI over only specific areas, but that
doesn’t mean I can call SPASI Chief Yucker and tell him to pick up a case. He
will tell me to take a flying hike.”

       “Oh.”

       “For
my part, I would be delighted if I could hand over half a dozen more
challenging cases that our teams aren’t getting close to solving to SPASI,”
Taktar said, “However, I can do something else for you. I can set an
appointment for you with Chief Yucker.”

       Mr.
Warwyk thought about the proposal for a minute and then said, “Never mind, I
will do that myself when I am ready.”

       “You
would be more persuasive with SPASI if you have political backing of one or two
Constellars,” Taktar said. “But even if they decline you, we will be on to
these bank robbers. Remember we are here to help.”

       “Thank
you,” Mr. Warwyk muttered under his breath as a matter of formality. He turned
around and exited the room. He did not bother with the elevators and he took
the nearest stairs

       Constellar
Taktar was right about one thing, he thought. SPASI was much more politically
powerful than the House of Police, and he wouldn’t have been able to get a
meeting with any of the SPASI’s top leaders on the fly like he did here. He
would call on Chief Yucker, but not just yet. He was going to line up a few
more bankers, get an entire industry behind him. Then he was going to call the
Head of the House of Banks, who was a powerful and veteran Constellar. His
backing would be key to getting the SPASI to take over these bank robberies and
break up this syndicate.

       When
he walked out of the House of Police, a car sent by the local branch of his
bank was waiting to take him to the hotel his assistant had booked in the
Capital. 

08/20/958

Chief
Detective Sayett was flipping through the bank robbery report papers he had
been handed by Constellar Taktar, the Head of the House of Police, as his plane
neared the northern city of Northstar. He also had with him a listing of all
the significant smuggling operations busted up by coastal town and city police
departments that were sent to SPASI’s Counter-Smuggling Division. He did not
have to search much at all, because the Northstar police chief had drawn
attention to a couple of smugglers they had caught and this is what had
prompted Sayett’s hurriedly planned visit to Northstar.

       Sayett
was a forty-seven years old man of 5’9’’ height and medium built. He had an
oblong shaped face, had mixed black-gray hair on both sides of his head and his
hair on the top was thinning, but he still covered it with a comb over. He was
one of the Chief Detectives of SPASI, which was Starfire Nation’s spy
department and it was also responsible for national detective work.

       Detective
Sayett had been handed the bank robbery case by the SPASI Chief Yucker himself
and first thing he had done was to drive to the House of Police and get all the
reports they had. He had pored through them as his team was being put together.
Some of the detectives he wanted on his team were in different towns and they
would be flying in during the next couple of days. Sayett had decided to take
advantage of this and start the inquiry at a place where he didn’t require a
team’s support, since not much work would happen before the team was assembled.
Northstar police chief had made his job easier.

       The
guns that had been retrieved from these bank robberies were Ranx Rifles.
Importing foreign arms was illegal in Starfire Nation, and the only way they
could have had those was if they had smuggled them in. This gave Sayett his
first clue and he had looked through the smuggling reports that came in
routinely. He eyes had quickly caught sight of a letter sent by Northstar
police chief and he was coming there to follow up on the details of it.

       Sayett
looked out the window as he lit up another cigarette and asked the air hostess
for another cup of coffee. Northstar was the second biggest city in Starfire
Nation with a population over five million people. It was also the biggest port
for commercial shippers as well as a sea army base. One of the great sights one
could see flying in to Northstar airport were all the aircraft carriers,
battleships and submarines on maintenance schedule that were neatly lined up
along the coast in the shipyards. Their plane began the descent to the runway
and Sayett cleared his ears to reduce the unease due to rapid air pressure
change.

       After
the plane landed, Sayett met a policeman who had arrived to drive him to the
Northstar police headquarters. It was a large forty-four floor building; Sayett
wasn’t sure if the police occupied all the floors, but this was definitely the
biggest police headquarters he had seen after that of the Capital police. He
took the elevator straight to the top floor where the chief’s office was. His
chief-detective badge opened all the doors without questions till he was right
in the chief’s office being offered expensive whiskey by chief Catovyk himself.

       “Thanks
for the fine whiskey,” Sayett said, “but more importantly thanks for taking the
initiative and writing that letter. You saved me a day’s of dry work, reading
every smuggling report that poured into SPASI for the last year.”

       “Well
I got this alert from the House of Police to increase the patrols near the big
banks,” chief Catovyk said. “As I read about those robberies something clicked
in my mind. I realized that we had just busted a shipment of Ranx rifles, two
crates with twenty-five rifles in each, just a couple of weeks ago.”

       “I
would like to see those smugglers, but first tell me about your raid,” Sayett
said.

       “Sure,”
Catovyk said, “We are holding them here temporarily, but the raid itself was
routine and uneventful. Our port division’s patrol boat found a boat with a
couple of smugglers from the Gyo Nation and assorted goods including those two
rifle crates. Didn’t think much about it then. I glanced over the report in a
couple of minutes and had forgotten about it till that alert from the House
came in a week ago.”

       “Let’s
go meet them,” Sayett said.

       Catovyk
led him to the elevator where they exited on the tenth floor, a temporary
lockup facility for prisoners who hadn’t yet been tried by the court. Catovyk
walked through a couple of corridors till he came to a room with a locked iron
door. He told a policeman to bring the two smugglers in there and a few minutes
later the two smugglers, along with two policemen guarding them, joined Catovyk
and Sayett in the room. They placed the smugglers on two chairs side by side
and a table in front as the rest of them stood in the stark room.

       “I
want you water rats to use your brains if you have any and tell me who the Ranx
rifles were for,” Sayett said and tapped both of them on the back of their
heads with his knuckles. “They seem empty, but I can still hope.”

       The
two prisoners looked at each other but said nothing.

       “You
aren’t going to tell, I see,” Sayett said after an interval of silence in the
room, “Well let me present your condition to you. I am from SPASI.” He showed
his badge to them and let them look at it for a few moments, “I can have you
transferred to our custody. Smuggling foreign weapons earns a ten year jail
sentence and when you are out, we will tell your government in Gyo all about
you, and you will have a permanent police record. Or you can help me here, I
will let the town police charge you with the lesser crime of plain vanilla
smuggling, three years jail penalty and we will tell nothing to your
government. The police representative to the court will forget to mention that
you smuggled rifles if you were to tell me who those rifles were for.”

       The
smugglers looked at each other and then one of them spoke, “Give us a few
minutes to talk it over between us.”

       “Sure,”
Sayett said, “You have ten minutes.”

       Sayett,
Catovyk and the two policemen walked outside and locked the door. They talked
about fishing for a few minutes till the smugglers knocked on the door. The two
policemen opened it and were the first ones inside and seated the smugglers
back on the chairs as Sayett and Catovyk entered.

       “We
will tell you what we know,” one of the smugglers said. “Some Ranxians came to
our boss and asked to smuggle in Ranx rifles into your country. Normally, we
don’t do contract work for strangers, but they agreed to pay a high fee. We
were supposed to hand it over to some Ranxians here in the parking lot of a
Northstar hotel at night.”

       “When
is that exchange going to happen?” Sayett asked.

       “Was
supposed to happen ten days ago.”

       “Damn,”
Sayett slammed his fist on the table. “We could have caught the Ranxians in the
act.”

       “We
put out news when we catch smugglers,” Catovyk said, “They would have known the
next day that we busted these fellas.”

       “What
smuggling syndicate do you fellas belong to?” Sayett asked them.

       “That
wasn’t part of our deal,” one of them said.

       “Never
mind,” Sayett laughed. “You are Blue Wave Smugglers from eastern Gyo.”

       The
smugglers were stunned, as was the police chief.

       “How
did you know?” Catovyk asked.

       “I
worked in the counter-smuggling division of SPASI for years,” Sayett said,
“There are three main smuggling syndicates operating out of Gyo who have
divided their coast amongst themselves. I know them by their accents and that’s
eastern Gyo these water rats are speaking.”

       “Well,
who were these Ranxians that hired you?” Catovyk asked.

       “We
don’t know.”

       “Don’t
lie, water rats,” Catovyk shouted.

       “SPASI
detective, you know we are telling the truth,” a smuggler said. “This is the
first time we ran Ranx rifles. Our boss does the deal and we do the running
without asking.”

       “They
are right,” Sayett said. “The smuggling syndicates keep their client’s identity
secret from their operatives. We are done here.”

       The
two policemen took the smugglers back to their cells as Sayett and Catovyk
walked to the elevator.

       “Where
is this boss?” Catovyk asked.

       “Far
away in eastern Gyo; we can’t get to him,” Sayett said. “SPASI has sent
assassins after him for years, but we can’t locate his hideout.”

       “Well,
you didn’t get much then,” the Chief said as they stepped in the elevator.

       “On
the contrary, I got my first lead,” Sayett said. “They confirmed the clients
for rifles  were Ranxians—that much information gets around in a syndicate.
Criminals aren’t stupid; they will leave false clues to throw off the chase. We
could not assume that just because they used Ranx rifles, they were Ranxian
crooks. Now we know, and that narrows down our search considerably.”

       “Then
I am glad,” Catovyk said. “Mind having dinner with me and a few other policemen
tonight?”

       “Appreciate
but I have booked a flight back to King Starryvk City this evening.”

       Sayett
took police chief’s leave when the elevator reached the first floor. The
policeman with the car assigned to him was waiting to drive him back to the
airport. Sayett was happy his first inquiry had been fruitful. Now it was time
to do a more detailed analysis of the robberies themselves and he decided he
would do that the first thing when he reached the Capital.