Fox Hunt (Fox Meridian Book 1) Page 9

  ‘In bed until midday, or thereabouts. My apartment records should verify that. I have no secrets from the police, Inspector. Please feel free to access any security details you wish.’

  ‘That’s very helpful, Mister Roberts.’ She put an immediate request through her VA to have HQ grab and analyse the records, tagging it with Roberts’s permission statement. She knew records like that could be doctored or faked, but it was a start. ‘Your cooperation is noted. Can you think of anyone who might wish to harm Miss Trent?’

  ‘I haven’t been personally involved in her life for a few months, but no one I know would wish to harm her. Even this business with Mystery and Mayhem… She was still doing good work for us. Yes, we were losing some viewing share to them, but we were in no trouble with the advertisers. We’re still getting good replay value through on-demand, and our analysts are seeing good memetic take-up. And Julianne was a likeable woman. She was letting herself go a little…’ He frowned.

  ‘Mister Roberts, if there’s anything which may shed light on her death…’

  He waved a hand dismissively, but what he said was, ‘It’s probably nothing, but she mentioned an online club several times. Uh… I’m sorry, I never recorded the name. It began with an “N.” The way she spoke about it… I don’t believe it was illegal, but I think it had a dark aspect to it. Perhaps she met someone there.’

  Fox got to her feet. ‘Thank you for your time, Mister Roberts. I’ll look into this club.’ She was, in fact, already putting a request through to get Trent’s online tracking data passed to Kit for analysis.

  ‘Anything I can do to help, Inspector,’ Roberts replied, smiling, as she headed for the door.

  ~~~

  Madeleine Paretski was, indeed, not a woman Fox would have classified as violent. She had the look, especially in her publicity stills, but the will was missing or submerged under a vast ocean of high self-opinion.

  Fox found her in a dressing room which seemed oversized considering that her costume was a grey skinsuit with motion-tracking markers all over it so there was not much dressing to be done. In stills, her eyes looked bluer than they really were: the real ones were more grey than blue. Her hair was a bright, golden blonde, cut short this season. Fox took in the musculature around the arms and thighs, highlighted by the figure-skimming suit, and decided almost immediately that she was looking at grafted, cosmetic enhancement. It looked the part, and even gave a little extra strength, but it could cause problems if stressed and it never quite looked like natural muscle. The sculpted jawline and cheekbones were either a really good cosmetic job or natural.

  ‘Yes, I may have got a little steamed that she was writing that low-grade, cheap, spoof-porn rip-off, and I may have suggested she was doing it to get back at me for Alan…’ Paretski paused, smiling brightly and showing teeth which looked like they had been polished by the people who did NASA’s telescope mirrors. It seemed like it was meant to be a dramatic pause, but it also seemed to go on a beat too long. ‘It’s all part of the show, dear.’

  Fox did not especially like being called ‘dear’ by someone she did not know. ‘The “show?”’

  ‘Yes, a little off-screen drama to get the gossip channels buzzing. It’s the main reason I took Alan for a spin, though he turned out to be more fun than I thought… Keep the viewers interested during hiatus, and make sure they know we’re still there. And the social channels are always willing to spread something when it’s a little malicious.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Julianne didn’t mind. She was busy losing all her free time in Niflhel.’

  ‘That was the online club she was involved with?’ Fox captured the name, got an immediate hit on something which looked right from her VA, and sent that on to Kit to help with her search.

  ‘Club, underground hangout, niche memespace for counterculture freaks, whatever you wish to call it, that’s where she’d been spending a lot of her time. I think she got into it before she broke up with Alan and it’s the reason for this… “need for a change” she suddenly developed.’

  ‘I see. I’ll need to establish where you were between six and ten yesterday.’

  ‘Asleep until nine, darling. I was out in the afternoon. Niles Wendover was throwing a small get-together on his yacht.’

  ‘I assume you’d have no objection to me checking your location against building biomonitor records?’

  Paretski smiled. ‘Be my guest, but I’ve done enough of these shows to know there are ways around that.’

  Fox returned the smile. All right, so this one was not quite the airhead she liked people to think of her as. Of course, that made it a tiny bit more likely that she was the killer, but Fox was still not putting her high on the suspect list.

  ~~~

  Walter Dolan was, like many men in his line of work, older than he looked. To be fair, a lot of men in a lot of lines of work looked younger than their years, but those in media activities were prone to pushing it more than others. Solid jawline, tight muscles, jet-black carefully groomed hair, startlingly blue eyes… and Fox was fairly sure that little of that was natural. Still, he was looking good for a man of sixty-six.

  He was dismissive of any threat Murder on My Mind might be posing his show, however. ‘It’s new and people are inclined to try out something new. Watch the ratings come the end of season. That’s when you can see where it’s going, and I’m expecting to see our share go back up.’

  ‘If it doesn’t?’

  ‘We’ll lose some revenue. We’ll consider the future of the show.’ He gave a shrug. ‘But we’ve seen off competition before, Inspector. Competition with bigger tits than Elaine Ross.’

  Fox gave him a faint smile. ‘I understand you’re moving up in the company?’

  Dolan narrowed an eye at her, his lips turning up at the corners. ‘And you’re thinking that I may lose that if that two-bit operation in Boston swings the public their way? The rumour is that Shark’s been brought in as my replacement, and for once the rumour’s true, but a little behind. It’s a done deal, Inspector. We’re announcing it next week. This is commercially sensitive, you understand. Janine Moss, our fictional programming director, is retiring in six months and we’re shuffling up. All decided weeks ago. Besides, Julianne’s death is more damaging to Murder is My Business than the other show is.’

  ‘She was a good writer?’

  ‘That depends on who you ask or what your opinion is of the shows we do. In my opinion, yes, she was, but she didn’t really get to display her talents as well as she might have here. No, I don’t think Mystery and Mayhem are any better. You want to see her writing at its best then you should dig up a novel she wrote a few years back.’

  ‘I’ll look that up. I’ll need to verify your whereabouts yesterday morning between six and ten.’

  ‘My wife and the building logs can tell you I was in my apartment all day. I don’t lie in on a Sunday as some do, but I did not get out of bed before ten either.’ His grin was the kind of knowing grin that said ‘I want you to know I still have sex with my wife,’ which Fox considered to be very nice for him, but she did not care.

  ‘Thank you, Mister Dolan. I just have Mister Shark and Mister Daker to talk to now.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ he said in reply, but she was not entirely sure why.

  ~~~

  They were kind of like a double act, but not exactly funny. Fox found Daker and Shark in the production control room, which seemed to be a centralised location for handling all the filming going on in the facility. Screens showed Paretski and a few other actors walking through a typical, TV cop crime scene analysis, but there were more screens showing other scenes being worked on in different rooms. There were people here monitoring it all, but most of the work seemed to be being handled by AIs.

  Daker and Shark were only interested in Paretski’s performance, however. They watched her on a couple of screens off to one side of the fairly large room, out of the way of the technicians. One screen showed the scene as i
t really was, grey walls, no scenery, and all the actors dressed in skintight, grey suits, while the other one filled in the virtual set. Pretty much the entire production was filled in using computers, even the costumes, though there did seem to be something missing that Fox could not immediately put her finger on.

  ‘Nate and I did a lot of the same media courses before we came here,’ Daker said, explaining their relationship. ‘He wanted to go more into the management side, but he’s got a good eye for producing the actual product as well as running all the admin. When they said they were looking for a new producer, I suggested Nate.’

  ‘So you’ve known each other since long before you joined IB-Nineteen?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Shark replied. ‘There are a few of the old crowd still floating in both our circles. We had a pretty good time back then.’

  ‘Still do,’ Daker added, ‘but we do suffer from “responsibility” now. Nate more than me.’ The writer gave the producer a grin. ‘Producers are always more in the public eye than writers. We’re just about invisible.’

  Shark gave a shrug. ‘Compared to the on-stream talent, we’re all invisible.’

  Fox decided to indulge herself. ‘You changed your name, Mister Shark. Presumably to make yourself more visible?’

  Daker cringed. ‘Don’t. He’ll do the–’

  ‘Well,’ Shark said, showing off a lot of very bright teeth, ‘I figured “Shark” had more bite.’

  ‘–the “more bite” joke,’ Daker went on, wincing this time.

  ‘Perhaps he needs a better scriptwriter,’ Fox suggested. She could see neither of them killing someone; they behaved more like a pair of students buddying up for a night on the town. Daker was probably the wingman. Then again… ‘Now that Miss Trent is out of the picture, you’ll be doing more work on Murder is My Business, Mister Daker?’

  ‘Well, yeah… I guess that’s true.’ Daker in particular did not fit Fox’s view of her perpetrator. He was slim, quite attractive, but not excessively so; she doubted he had bothered having work done and she could detect a little puffiness around the eyes which a cosmetician would have ironed out without thinking about it. His hair was neat but not especially stylish, a cap of dark brown without highlights or embellishments, and he had unremarkable, brown eyes. He looked, she thought, like a nice guy, but mostly he did not have the muscle she expected to see in her killer. ‘I’m not sure that’s such a great thing, to be honest. I’d prefer my own project to get my teeth into. Roberts isn’t going to let me, or us, change the formula on Murder much, or at all.’

  ‘Adrian and I wrote up a proposal for something a little grittier last year,’ Shark said. ‘We got a little interest… and a lot of reluctance. Then Mystery and Mayhem did their thing. Suddenly we’re looking at falling ratings, but the response from up the line was to make the show more appealing to people who don’t want tits in their face in a crime show.’

  ‘You consider Murder on My Mind a threat?’ Fox asked. Shark was more of a fit for the physical requirements: tall, well-muscled, and it looked like that was gained from exercise and a minimum of artificial augmentation. He was good-looking, and it looked like there had been a little work done to get that. His hair, at the very least, had been coloured, probably lightening a darker blonde to make a swept-back, honey-blonde style which went quite well with sharp, blue eyes. His jawline looked a little weak, still youthful, and his mouth was a little thin in the lips, but quite full. Overall he was good-looking and quite possibly strong enough to hold Trent down while he blew her brains out.

  ‘It’s a threat, but we need something new to see it off, not more of this.’ He grinned, showing off those white teeth. ‘I want something with more realism to it. Something hard-hitting, speaking to the reality of modern policing. I mean, we have to keep the audience with us, keep the action going, yeah, maybe put in a little more sex, but people want a hard edge now. Ever thought of a career change, Inspector?’

  ‘I act all the time, Mister Shark, and you wouldn’t want me in front of a camera. I can’t take direction worth a damn. Just ask my captain. I’ll need to know where both of you were between six and ten yesterday morning.’

  ‘On a Sunday? I don’t get out of whoever’s bed I’m in until midday.’

  ‘And whose bed were you in yesterday?’

  He sagged a little. ‘My own. Alone. My apartment biomonitor logs should agree with me though.’

  ‘I…’ Daker said, pausing to think. ‘Yeah, I logged in to the office systems about eight-fifteen. I had some rewrites to finish up for today’s shooting. Before that, bed, asleep.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Fox glanced at the screens again, watching Paretski walk around a decapitated body which was not really there. ‘What am I missing? There’s something not there that I expect to see and I can’t figure out what it is.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Shark replied. ‘A lot of people don’t notice it’s not there, but you’re not supposed to notice it is. We don’t put the product placement tags in until the final edit. A lot of them are specific to the viewer and depend on who’s paying for time on the day. With modern analytics, clients can make decisions on exactly where to put their advertising budget just about hourly. Most don’t, but we add the product placeholders late anyway.’

  Explained it was obvious: the sets lacked the clutter of normal life which a set dresser would have put in. The streamed programme would have things put in which linked to advertisers’ products. Quite which products anyone would want linked to a headless corpse Fox was not sure. Really good carpet cleaner? ‘It’s all just a lot of illusion, isn’t it?’

  ‘Kind of a metaphor for all of modern life,’ Daker replied. ‘Half the world, most of the developed world, lives in a dream.’

  ~~~

  ‘Yes, Julianne Trent spent significant time in Niflhel,’ Kit said. ‘There was no evidence of VR addiction, but she spent at least a couple of hours each day in the viron.’ She paused. ‘I used that right, didn’t I? “Viron” for “virtual environment?”’

  Fox grinned at her. ‘Yes, that was right.’

  Kit nodded. ‘I am trying to remember to use slang. Miss Trent was in that viron from eight in the evening on Saturday through to two in the morning. We would need a warrant to dig in and find out what she was doing. Her own system did not record her activities within Niflhel and I have found no notes or memories pertaining to it.’

  ‘So she was up to something she didn’t want recorded, or it was all just fun and she didn’t bother. Or she was up to some fun she didn’t want recorded, of course.’

  ‘Niflhel has developed a reputation for security and privacy, as well as offering its patrons all manner of recreation. She could have been doing anything. The symbology comes from Norse myth. The name means “misty Hell” or something like that. Hel, with a single L, was the Norse underworld associated with those who died of old age or disease, outside of battle anyway. We get the word Hell, two Ls, from that name, but there is little similarity between the popular conception of Christian religion and the Norse underworld. I don’t believe there is significant concordance between Niflhel and the Norse realm of the same name, aside from the entry viron.’

  Fox gave a shrug and settled back on the couch, sipping her coffee. ‘Well, it’s worth a look. I’ll pay the place a visit tonight. Even if it just turns out to be a boring online club, it’s an evening out.’

  ~~~

  Fox opened her eyes as the VR link fully established and looked out on the entrance viron of Niflhel. It was certainly misty. The draw distance was maybe ten metres; after that the world vanished into a grey wall of slowly shifting grey mist. Looking down, she saw her legs vanishing into the same grey fog, but she could feel soft, moist ground under her bare feet. It was like she was standing on a wet peat bog.

  ‘Oh! You look… different.’ Fox turned at the sound of Kit’s voice, giving her a smile. ‘Different, but the same.’

  ‘I had a body scan done for the basic avatar, so that’s the same. Then
I changed the hair and eyes…’ Her online form still had eyes that were more violet than blue surrounded by purple shadow and black liner. Her hair was far darker, a dusty, very dark near-blonde with highlights of purple. Her dress was four strips of purple cloth with brighter, neon edges, tied just below her breasts and closed with a silver broach. There was a similarly coloured G-string to preserve some modesty. She had never been a particularly modest woman anyway.

  ‘That is a nice dress you are barely wearing,’ Kit said, deadpan.

  ‘You have seen what Terri dressed you in, right? How do I get into this place?’

  ‘Perhaps I could be of assistance?’ The mist seemed to roll back to reveal a figure walking toward them. He, or he sounded male, was little more than a black, humanoid mass of boiling mist with glowing, red pits for eyes. ‘I am Vali. I made this place.’

  ‘I’m Zorra,’ Fox replied, giving her online tag. ‘This is Kit.’

  Something like a grinning mouth of red light appeared in the mass of black mist. ‘I am aware of who and what you are… Zorra. What is it you wish? Niflhel exists to provide leisure, a place to meet for any who wish it. The protocols I provide for connection have some of the best encryption in the world.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Kit said. ‘I needed to download custom encryption drivers and the data streams connecting us to the server are quite unique.’

  ‘So you’re selling privacy, for whatever use the participants may have for it,’ Fox said. She had the distinct feeling that this ‘Vali’ knew she was a cop, and she did not like playing games much anyway.

  ‘That’s one way of putting it.’

  ‘One of your… participants was murdered yesterday morning. Julianne Trent.’

  ‘She employed the online tag Mystral,’ Kit supplied.

  ‘Perhaps we should speak privately,’ Vali said, and the mist was swirling up around them before Fox could reply.