Fox Hunt (Fox Meridian Book 1) Read online

  ‘I will keep looking. I don’t sleep so I have plenty of time to look. You have an appointment with Miss Adamshi’s agent via telepresence at nine tomorrow.’

  Fox frowned. ‘I generally prefer to meet with them physically.’

  ‘That would be difficult in this case. Her agent was assigned to her by ATW and is an infomorph.’

  ‘Oh… Okay, well I suppose it means I don’t have to leave the apartment.’

  24th January.

  Brianne Adamshi’s agent took the form of a mid-height, middle-aged, slightly balding man, a little overweight with watery, grey eyes and round, wire-framed spectacles. He was dressed in a dark grey suit. The stereotyping was almost painful and it did not get better.

  ‘Inspector Meridian,’ the AI said as he appeared in front of the window in Fox’s apartment, ‘I’m Melvin, Miss Adamshi’s management agent. I’ve been asked to state that ATW is horrified by the news of her death and we will do anything in our power to assist your investigation.’

  ‘Thank you, I–’

  ‘Commensurate with international law, company ethical policy, and privacy regulations, of course.’

  Fox managed a tight grin. ‘Of course.’ What the infomorph meant was that he would tell her absolutely nothing if he could get away with it. ‘This is my agent, Kit. She’ll be recording the interview. Sit if you wish.’ She settled onto her own couch, knowing that he was seeing her in a suit while she was actually still wearing a wrap; thinking about it, this was much better than having to interview humans in their offices.

  ‘Sitting does not make me more or less comfortable, Inspector, but thank you for offering.’

  ‘Do you know whether Miss Adamshi had any family? We’ve been unable to track anyone down.’

  ‘Her parents died in the twenty-fifty-six influenza epidemic. She has no siblings.’

  Fox frowned. The epidemic that had swept the North American Metro regions in fifty-six had killed around three million people, though the numbers were a little vague because all the deaths had occurred in the Sprawl. Standard anti-viral nanosymbionts had blocked the disease for everyone able to afford them; the epidemic had killed the poor and there had been an outcry which had subsided quickly and been forgotten. And during that time, a fifteen-year-old girl had been left to fend for herself in the Sprawl. Fox could imagine what an attractive young woman had done to survive, and then just when she had climbed out of that life, some bastard had killed her.

  ‘Miss Adamshi was a recent signing?’

  ‘She was signed to our audio production label on the fourteenth of February twenty-fifty-nine. Her first single-track release was made available in April and was well-received. We were hoping to release another ten tracks at the end of this month with considerable advertising. A decision on whether to go ahead is pending.’

  ‘I’m sure it is. That single release was well-received. Was there any negative fan reaction? Or the opposite: anyone appearing to be excessively interested in her?’

  ‘We noticed nothing. You are welcome to obtain a warrant to gain access to her fan mail. Of course, we maintain records of all messages received for one year in accordance with normal legal requirements.’

  ‘Yes, of course you do. Were you aware of her activities in an online club in the Niflhel viron?’ Fox asked.

  The question seemed to take Melvin a little by surprise. He paused, literally ceasing to move for maybe half a second before whatever was occupying his thoughts released his avatar. ‘Miss Adamshi made a name for herself performing on free, online sites. Obviously we requested that she cease such activity when we signed her.’

  ‘Yeah, obviously.’

  ‘She viewed the Niflhel site as different because it was private and subscription. Still, we requested that she cease her activities there in December.’

  ‘Uh-huh, and no one objected to her shift from free performances to purely paid ones? There were no threats? No one suggested that she might be selling out?’

  ‘Such messages are not uncommon when a new artist is signed to a large company. We routinely filter them to ensure that the artist is not troubled with–’

  ‘But you take them seriously? You presumably ensure that your client’s security is sufficient to protect them from anyone meaning them harm. You look for direct threats and react to them. You inform NAPA whenever such a situation arises. When I get that warrant you’re demanding I obtain, there will be no delay in delivering all the data and I will not find any evidence suggesting negligence.’

  There was another freeze in Melvin’s animation, this time lasting longer, maybe a full second. Then the simulated manager smiled the most sickly-sweet smile Fox had seen this side of an accident damages lawyer. ‘There were no messages which raised particular red flags, Inspector, but it is possible that we missed something. In the interests of furthering your investigation, we will voluntarily hand over the data immediately. We would request that a post facto authorisation for acquisition be sent at your earliest convenience, to cover our own legal requirements.’

  Fox smiled back. ‘Kit will be happy to take receipt of the data. Kit, would you please put through the request for the data to HQ? Please tell them to make all haste.’

  Kit was also smiling, and she seemed to have mastered the diplomatic smile quite well. ‘Of course, Inspector. I am receiving the data records now. I’ll begin processing them immediately.’

  ‘Thank you, Kit. Thank you, Melvin. I believe we can work with that, but if anyone at ATW should think of anything, please contact Kit and I’ll be available to interview anyone as and when required.’

  Melvin nodded, the smile still fixed on his face. ‘Goodbye, Inspector.’ And then he was gone.

  ‘What a nice… man.’

  Kit wrinkled her nose. ‘A class three. They lack creativity and proper emotional development.’

  ‘That explains why he seemed more like a leech than I’d have expected.’

  ‘It would also explain why he was so terrible at lying. Lying is a creative process. I suspect the conversation was monitored, or that he contacted a human when he ran into difficulties.’

  ‘Huh. Do you know what you’re looking for in these mails?’

  Kit looked thoughtful for a second. ‘Any indications of obsessive interest, anger at her stopping free performances, or extreme dislike of her work. These will need to be further analysed once they have been weeded out of the mass, but I should be able to create a shortlist within a few hours.’

  ‘Don’t forget to check for any actual threats. We’ll prioritise those for analysis.’

  Kit’s lips twitched. ‘Obviously.’

  ‘Don’t you start!’

  ~~~

  ‘Inspectors clearly get more money than detectives,’ Dillan commented as she looked around Fox’s lounge. ‘You actually have a view.’

  Fox grinned. ‘Clear the window, Kit. Let Detective Dillan see the view.’

  Dillan walked over to the window as the panes became transparent and looked out. Across the water, the clutter of what had once been Jersey City and was now the Jersey Housing Combine presented a grey wall with a couple of shining spires spearing the sky above it. To the left, the rising concrete wall of the Hudson North Barrier was a mess of metalwork and machines, and thick, grey aggregate construction. ‘Oh… Okay, but that does not look like a cheap agent.’

  ‘Kit? No, Terri won’t tell me what they’re planning to sell the range for, but I agree, she’s expensive. I’m consumer testing her for MarTech.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Sure. We’re waiting for Sandoval?’

  ‘Detective Sandoval has entered the building,’ Kit announced. ‘He should be here in less than a minute. I have started the coffee brewing and I can distribute it when he arrives.’

  Dillan grinned at the virtual kitsune. ‘I like you. You know how to speak to a cop’s soul.’

  Kit smiled back. ‘I am afraid I did not know to have doughnuts available due to the short notice.’

  ‘You’re a cla
ss four.’ Dillan’s eyebrows went up as she spoke. ‘That’s… wow. I make do with a standard VA.’

  ‘So do I,’ Fox told her. ‘Kit’s more like a backup. Sit down, we’ll get started when Sandoval–’

  The apartment’s outer door slid open and the big, blonde detective stepped through. ‘Hi. Not late, am I?’

  ‘I did say “as soon as you could get here,”’ Fox told him. ‘Park your ass and we’ll get going. Kit, set the window back to screen mode. Sandoval, that’s Kit, my agent. She can handle displaying anything you need to show us.’ Fox started for the sofa, noting that Dillan was already sitting and had positioned herself so that Fox would be sitting beside Sandoval, assuming she took the middle… But at least the spider-like house robot was handing out the coffee mugs, and Sandoval was attractive enough and had not, yet, given much indication of being an ass. ‘What did the neighbours have to say?’

  Sandoval had developed the kind of expression that it sometimes took cops a decade to develop, a sort of resigned yet annoyed glower. ‘No one saw or heard anything.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dillan added, sounding similarly resigned, ‘welcome to New York Metro where your neighbour can have her brains blown out with an explosive bullet, but you didn’t hear a thing.’

  ‘No one even suggested they’d heard someone dropping something, or a party popper going off. And I don’t think the soundproofing in that place is that good.’

  Fox nodded. ‘I wasn’t really expecting much, but… Well, Kit, let’s have the list of possible stalkers.’

  Smiling, Kit turned and threw, with gestures, a list of names up onto the window display area. ‘I have seventeen identities who have sent messages to Miss Adamshi which I classified as potentially threatening. Several of these are, however, from people who live in remote locations. I have left them on the list for now and I am attempting to verify that they have not been in this area within the last twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Okay, put those aside for now. What do we have left?’

  A lot of names faded into the background. ‘These six people live close enough to this precinct area that they could have attended Miss Adamshi’s concerts previously, and are obviously well within travel range of her apartment block. I accessed some material on typical behaviour for the obsessive and dangerous fan, and I have been attempting to analyse the progression of messages from each individual. I would appreciate your input, however.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll start at the top and work down.’

  ‘Ah, the top one is actually a special case. This identity, ‘Buckyball,’ back-traces to a man named Donovan Bucksbridge. He sent one mail to Miss Adamshi suggesting that she was “typical of the sell-outs who gave up their souls to corporations who cared nothing for…” I would imagine you’ve all heard this kind of thing before. His name is flagged on a NAPA watch list. It is thought that he may be involved with United Anarchy.’

  Fox looked up at the photographs Kit was displaying, clearly taken from an arrest record. Bucksbridge looked like an overfed rat with a beer gut, a hooked nose, and small, dark eyes. ‘He’s got a record as well?’

  ‘Minor stuff. Receiving stolen goods, small-scale hacking attempts.’

  ‘He doesn’t fit the profile, but get a watch out for him. If we can locate him, we’ll pick him up and grill him.’

  ‘You sure that’s worth the effort?’ Sandoval asked, looking at the screen with disgust. ‘I mean, he doesn’t look like he’s worth the hassle of bringing him in for questioning.’

  Fox shrugged. ‘At this point we’re short on leads and the captain isn’t going to let three of us work on this for long. We go with everything we can find until something shakes out. Kit, let’s have the first batch of messages from the others.’

  ~~~

  ‘So what’s the story with you and Sandoval?’ Fox asked as she poured two glasses of wine.

  They had been at it for hours, going over the text of the messages and trying to determine whether any of the people sending them represented a significant threat. They had decided that two were worth interviewing, at which point Sandoval had made a comment about needing to see one of his informants and rushed off leaving Fox and Dillan alone. Alone aside from Kit anyway.

  Dillan seemed to relax a little with the big man gone, which was what had prompted the question. ‘Oh… We were…’ Dillan stopped and apparently rethought her words, her mouth scrunching up as she considered. ‘Dating is the wrong word. We engaged in various intimate activities for a couple of weeks last year. Though “intimate” isn’t quite right either. I’m not sure he does intimacy. The sex was good though and I needed the stress relief. I was working the Doran case then. Sandoval took my mind off it.’

  ‘You took down Doran. Yeah, I remember that one. Serial. Didn’t he go for insanity when you finally caught him?’

  ‘Claimed a demon had possessed him and forced him to kill. He’s in psycho lock-up. They decided he was insane and I don’t think he was faking it for the easy sentence. That guy shouldn’t have been out in society.’

  ‘Testing doesn’t catch all the nuts. You seem a little more uptight around Sandoval than your description of the relationship suggests.’ Fox handed the other woman her wine and sat down, settling back against the couch and doing her best to relax. Her back was stiff from sitting there glaring at personality profiles and emails.

  ‘I…’ Dillan shrugged. ‘I don’t know exactly but something about him just didn’t sit right after knowing him for a couple of weeks. Almost three. Eighteen days I think we were meeting up after our shifts and… It’s not like I ever heard or saw anything, y’know? I just…’ Another shrug.

  ‘He’s ex-private security, right?’

  ‘Wayden Executive Services. He said he was based in the old Texas area, handling corporate security for a couple of sites down there. Then there was the Dallas thing… uh…’ Dillan looked across at her hostess, colour showing in her cheeks. ‘I guess you know about that.’

  ‘Yeah. I’m aware of the incident.’

  ‘That, uh, had to be Hell. I mean, you succeeded against pretty bad odds, but…’

  ‘Mmm, yeah… I don’t really think of it as a successful mission. I lost four friends and a lover, and three other people who were under my command–’

  ‘From what I heard, sir, they weren’t under your command. You were forced to take a last-minute change of procedure, they pushed a new commanding officer on you and he fucked up. That’s why you resigned from the UNTPP.’

  Fox took a pull on her glass of wine. ‘Marshall lasted about ten minutes. I never really worked out what the Hell was going on with him. He looked… surprised when he got shot. To this day I’m not sure whether he was incompetent or corrupt. He led us right into an ambush. Six died there, including Marshall and Pieter. I’d been seeing Pieter for about three months at that point. He was hit in the throat, died instantly. I was too busy surviving to worry about mourning him.’

  ‘Shit.’ The word came out as a breath more than a real word, but Fox heard it.

  ‘Yeah… I lost another one before we could stop the bleeding. The rest… We were outnumbered, but we were better than them. I should’ve been able to save more of them.’

  ‘You got out, with Teresa Martins, and none of them did. And they didn’t get what they wanted.’

  ‘Huh, no. That was partially because Jackson’s security protocols locked down their entire computer and communications system as soon as the site’s AI detected the problem. NIX and NAPA both told Jackson that the only way he was getting his daughter out alive was to unlock the data. They assured him that the UA cell responsible would be rounded up before they could get away. He said that nothing would persuade him to allow UA to get their hands on what was being researched in Dallas.’

  Dillan’s face looked the way Fox expected it to. Anyone who heard the story first hand, without the filters that had been put in by the MarTech PR people, looked shocked, or horrified. ‘He was willing to let his daughter die–’
r />   ‘Terri agreed with him, but she also had faith in him getting her out somehow. He turned to the UNTPP and they sent me in.’ Fox gritted her teeth. She had never managed to get over the anger and talking about it always brought it out. ‘And I killed every last one of those rat-motherfuckers.’ Her jaw relaxed as the anger seeped away, because they were all dead and she could not go back and kill them again, even if she wanted to. ‘Jackson and Terri keep giving me “products to test.” When I came to in the hospital, Jackson was there and he asked me what he could do to repay me for getting his daughter back. I asked him for a gun that doesn’t jam, so he built me a working Gauss pistol. Electromagnetic feed and launch systems, all computer controlled. It’s like a tiny version of the rail guns they use on spaceships and tanks, but with a far higher rate of fire. And it doesn’t jam.’

  ‘It still hurts then?’

  ‘Yeah, it still hurts. So now you have to keep me company while I get drunk.’

  Dillan barked out a laugh. ‘Oh really?’

  ‘Yeah, really. Besides, in the morning it’s a shorter trip into HQ for the interviews.’

  ‘True.’ The younger detective tipped her glass to Fox. ‘Okay, here’s to getting drunk and forgetting.’

  Fox raised her own glass and drank, but she said nothing. Some things refused to be forgotten: all you could do was submerge them for a while.

  25th January.

  Fox slid the shower cubicle’s door open and looked out at the bleary-eyed form of Dillan sitting up in bed. The strawberry-blonde rubbed at her eyes and licked her lips, and appeared to be trying to work out where she was. Fox grinned and headed for the drawer where she kept a supply of new bodysuits.

  ‘Hey,’ Dillan said after a second. She was wearing only a pair of plazkin boy-shorts and had not thought to cover herself yet, which probably meant she was still half-asleep or had no issue with another woman seeing her breasts. ‘Um… Did we…?’

  Fox laughed. ‘No. You were way too far gone after the sixth glass. Getting you out of your clothes was not easy, let me tell you.’

  ‘Oh, right. That explains the headache and the pants, I guess.’