Code of Vengeance: The Complete Collection, page 10
He was a white man, almost as pale as the paint in the room.
It was his hair that made Nat want to gag. He had dark brown or maybe black hair, but it was all combed nicely and slicked to the side. Nat’s impulse was strong. That guy, whoever he was, was a rich asshole. She was certain. He probably paid more for grooming in a week than she spent on food in a month.
That man, the one who drew her attention, seemed to be the leader of the group. For one, he was sitting at the head of the table. Second, he was the one who spoke to Br00-S when he entered.
Nat squinted and replayed the scene. “They knew about you?”
“It appears so.”
That was another piece of the puzzle that would have to be solved, but that was a problem for future Nat. One step at a time, otherwise nothing ever got done.
Nat watched the rest of the video, disappointed there wasn’t more to see. Although she had seen the view from the hallway and known the clip would be short, there was still always the hope there would be more. She had hoped for an answer of some type. Not more questions.
She leaned back again, waiting for the facial recognition to do its work.
“Martin Ferrater, Trent Forth, Clive Proskey, Felix Benham, Lora Mowat…” Her voice trailed off as she named the names that came up through facial recognition.
One of those names was familiar.
Clive Proskey.
Where did she know that name from?
She pulled up the internet and searched him.
Then she was struck by a lightning bolt. Of course.
No wonder she hated the man at the head of the table. He was Clive Proskey, and he was the head of one of the larger corporations in the city. Nat read more on him, refreshing her memory.
The Proskeys had started a marketing firm in the heart of downtown about thirty years ago. They had become one of the most successful in the area, despite being founded by Ernst Proskey, who was well known for having some of the more extreme views in the political spectrum.
Ernst, Clive’s father, had been strongly against the scientific establishment. When the solar harvesting farms were launched into space to provide energy for Earth and to make a dent in global warming, Ernst had been one of the multi-billion dollar project’s most vehement opponents. He hadn’t believed in climate change, or evolution, and he made his position well known.
Despite the controversy that surrounded Ernst, he was an excellent businessman. He courted an amazing amount of business, and in response to his perceptions of the way the world worked, the marketing company soon expanded into other fields, including human resources and a job-seeking placement agency that operated under a non-profit banner.
Ernst had also been a supporter of the idea that robots shouldn’t be allowed to take human jobs. His non-profit was all about good jobs for great humans, and it thrived even in the challenging economic conditions of the past couple of decades.
As Nat read, she kept shaking her head. Some people didn’t understand that the future came whether or not you wanted it to. Better to adapt than fight to make sure things stayed the same as you were used to.
She had to dig for a while, but she found something more, a fact that tied together a few of the pieces of the puzzle. Nat still couldn’t see the whole picture, but the outline was solidifying. As part of their work in human resources, Proskey Enterprises had recruited and trained ex-military personnel. Ostensibly, it was for new careers after military service, but Nat didn’t buy that for a second. Proskey was developing a freelance military arm.
Ernst, unfortunately, had lived a long and healthy life, dying only a couple of years ago, making Proskey Enterprises a strong and vibrant company. Clive was Ernst’s only child, and Nat didn’t have any problem believing that the son had inherited at least a few of his father’s views.
Clive was far less outspoken than his father. As Nat pulled up file after file, she tried to get a sense of the man. Like his dad, he was also an excellent businessman, and Proskey Enterprises had been a quiet success story, thriving year after year, while never making the big gains and losses that so often made the news.
As Nat researched, she realized Clive never spoke about his personal beliefs. Every interview he gave was strictly limited to issues with his business.
He made Nat’s skin crawl. The hair was certainly a part of it. It was too perfect and fake. He had the look of a man who was used to getting whatever he wanted.
The interviews, as innocuous as they seemed, also sent a chill up her spine.
Clive Proskey was a public figure. Not a celebrity, by any means, but he had been profiled plenty of times, and in all those interviews, Nat should have been able to find something more useful about him than where he completed his undergraduate degree.
A man who kept that tight of a lid on his own dealings was a man who was up to no good, in Nat’s opinion. With the loudmouths, you always had at least a sense of what they were thinking. It was the quiet ones you had to be careful about. They were the ones who would move the world without you noticing.
“Nat?”
She realized she hadn’t been paying any attention to her surroundings.
Br00-S had been trying to get her attention now for a few minutes, it seemed.
“Nat?”
She turned, pulling herself away from her research. Her stomach was twisted in knots. She had already been through so much, and they only stood on the tip of the iceberg. Did Br00-S know what he was doing? If her analysis was right, they weren’t dealing with a local bunch of loons who hated technology. They were up against a multi-millionaire with his own private army.
“Did you find something?” Br00-S’ voice was concerned, and Nat suspected he was reading her vitals.
“I did. I know who is leading your group of Sapiens First.”
“Who?”
“The man who yelled at you when you stepped in. His name is Clive Proskey. And we’re in deep shit.”
Chapter Nine
Bryce couldn’t even remember the last time he had worked a case like this. Years, at least, if not over a decade. It was like being a cop back in the days when that meant you had to do a lot more thinking.
There were days, like the day he visited Walt in the hospital, when he felt like he was close to a breakthrough, that it would only be a few days before he cracked the case wide open.
Then there were other days where nothing went to plan, where every lead was a dead end. Back and forth he went, an old familiar flame rekindling in his heart. This was the hunt he lived for, to unravel the lies and bring the truth to light.
Bryce was convinced he was dealing with vigilantes who were targeting Sapiens First. Sapiens First, in response, was pushing back, using both legal and illegal means. It explained the push from the mayor’s office as well as Walt’s assault in the hotel. Somewhere, someone in Sapiens First was well-connected. But who?
Even though Bryce believed his theory, he didn’t have any of the evidence he needed to support it. At first, he had thought having a story would provide him with some new leads. For two days Bryce had researched in a number of different directions, thinking every time his new approach would be the one that cracked the case.
Nothing had panned out, though. Sapiens First had no shortage of enemies, but no one resembling the girl came up anywhere. She was a ghost, no small feat these days.
The case could be frustrating, certainly, but with each new frustration, Bryce doubled his resolve. He had forgotten what it felt like to be challenged by a case.
His personal feelings played a role, too. Kleon had been a loser, and Walt was a scumbag. Bryce was concerned about AI; you’d have to be a fool not to be. But he also saw the advance of technology as inevitable. Instead of fighting against it, people needed to learn how to coexist with it. Sapiens First didn’t understand. Like all terrorist organizations before them, they thought violence would change the minds of their enemies.
He didn’t mind Sapiens, the political party that had emerged recently in response to society’s concerns about the rapid advance of AI. They staged their share of protests, and their rhetoric was sometimes inflammatory, but mostly they remained peaceful. They were how society was supposed to debate its differences.
Officially, Sapiens First and Sapiens weren’t connected. But, Bryce thought, if you believed that, he had a bridge to sell if you were interested.
Sapiens First was becoming increasingly violent. At first, it had been the occasional beating, members kicking the crap out of some poor person who had a visible enhancement. Now, a murder wasn’t uncommon, and it only looked to be getting worse. If this case could put some of Sapiens First’s ringleaders in prison, the world would be a much better place.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He had been staring at his computer screen for too long. Maybe he should run down to the coffee machine. He was trying to cut down, but on a case like this, his desire for caffeine was strong.
What the heck, he thought. A single cup wouldn’t do any harm.
Just as he stood up, his phone flashed on his desk.
Damn.
He considered walking down the hallway and pretending he wasn’t in his cube. He could delay the inevitable, a few minutes at least.
Bryce picked up the phone. “Yes, sir?”
“Hello, Detective Lewis. Would you mind coming to my office?”
Bryce frowned. If Dick was using formal language, it meant someone was in the office with him. His gut twisted. There wasn’t any way this would be good.
“Yes, sir. I’ll be there in a few.”
The line disconnected, and Bryce decided he wouldn’t have time to get his coffee. Unfortunately, his desire for the caffeine was now even stronger.
He walked through the maze of corridors that led to the captain’s office. Inside most of the small rooms was a detective, just like him, each of them connected to their computers to investigate cases—if it could even be called that. Like so many industries, AI was making detective work meaningless. Bryce was a dinosaur, and he knew it; but even though the temptation was strong, he’d never retire. What else would he do?
Some of the younger detectives looked like machines, hooked up to VR rigs to investigate crimes even more efficiently. Bryce couldn’t work that way, but some could. This was the modern state of investigative work. Sitting at a computer, looking at reconstructions of crime scenes, or playing video back and forth. Children could do most of this work. It didn’t require much in the way of critical thought.
As he walked, Bryce thought that sometimes, the modern state of investigation left something to be desired.
They rarely answered the “why” anymore.
It was a simple task to scrub video or use forensic evidence to identify criminals. The case closure rate for the department was as high as it had ever been—Bryce’s current case being the notable exception. They could always figure out who did it, but they never bothered with why.
From a societal standpoint, it didn’t matter. Criminals were caught and brought to justice. That was all that mattered.
Except Bryce didn’t believe so.
He believed the stories mattered. The whys mattered. “Why” was the reason for an action, a crime.
For example, Bryce believed—even though the thought was unpopular among most—that motives mattered in justice. A man who mugs another to feed his family deserves a different punishment than a mugger looking to make money to pay for drugs.
He took a deep breath and cleared his head as he neared the captain’s office. It wouldn’t do him any good to be distracted if there was an important guest inside.
When Bryce entered the room, his gaze was drawn to the visitor, dressed in a nice business suit and every hair groomed and styled into place. Bryce knew the face, as did anyone who had spent any time paying attention to the news.
Clive Proskey.
The man was one of the richest in the city, but he kept quiet. Bryce knew Proskey Enterprises was involved in everything from human resources to some government contracts. He also knew that Proskey, although he kept a low profile, had an enormous amount of political pull.
Pieces fell into place before Dick even spoke.
There could only be one case that Mr. Proskey was here about. If he was here, it meant he was also after the girl.
Which meant, if Bryce’s theory held up, Clive Proskey was a member of Sapiens First. That would be a headline for the year if the news ever caught on.
Very interesting.
Bryce kept his face carefully neutral. He extended his hand and smiled as warmly as he could. “Mr. Proskey, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”
Clive’s hand was cold and clammy, but his grip was firm. “Detective Lewis, Captain Johnson has just been telling me about you.”
Everyone in the room sat down, filling all the available chairs in the office.
Bryce sniffed. There was something different in the room today. He fought the urge to close his eyes, sniffing again. There was no doubt about it, the soft smell of lavender was in the air.
Who was Dick trying to keep calm?
“Detective Lewis, Mr. Proskey has come forward with more information on the James case.”
Now that was even more interesting. It took Bryce most of his self-control not to lean forward. “That’s good to hear.”
Mr. Proskey grimaced. “I’m afraid that’s not quite accurate. I don’t know if what I’m presenting is useful information, but I am here to help however I can.”
“What can you tell us, Mr. Proskey?” Bryce asked as he pulled out his phone to take notes.
“Despite your captain’s hopes, there’s little new information I can provide. However, there is something I can say which I hope will help your investigation. I believe Kleon was targeted by an organization that is coming after my own.”
Bryce noticed that Mr. Proskey didn’t say what organization he was talking about.
“Why would you say that, Mr. Proskey?”
“Mr. James had just started working on some sensitive information for us, a classified project that I can’t divulge much information about. We believe that his death might have some connection with that work.”
Bryce was skeptical. Part of it was instinct; he simply didn’t believe anything the man said. The information also didn’t align with what Bryce already knew about Kleon. To the best of his knowledge, Kleon had been unemployed, living off the last remnants of a severance package.
Of course, Mr. Proskey could be telling the truth. If the government contract was secret enough, it was possible that Bryce’s search wouldn’t have uncovered it. But still, he was skeptical. Kleon hadn’t possessed the skills needed for secret government work.
All of this passed through his mind in a matter of moments.
“Why would you believe that, Mr. Proskey?”
“Unfortunately, as much as I would like to say more about Mr. James’ work, I cannot. You understand. However, there was an intrusion in one of our buildings last night, and I believe that they were after information about this same project.”
Bryce’s frown deepened. “Did you report the intrusion to the police?” There hadn’t been any notice on the board that Bryce had seen.
“Unfortunately, our work is of such a nature that we weren’t allowed to report the incident. The thieves, or saboteurs, were stopped by our internal security. We weren’t able to apprehend the suspect to turn them over, though. They escaped, even though their break-in was unsuccessful.”
Bryce churned the information over in his mind, trying to make the new information align with the theory he already believed.
He had to admit, the connections weren’t very clear. What objective could the vigilantes be after? Were they hoping to hack into Proskey Enterprises’ network and get incriminating evidence against Mr. Proskey? That seemed like a bit of a stretch. Men like Proskey were untouchable.
Bryce wanted more information. He would have loved to see the video of the incident, see what really happened. Perhaps it would have revealed an entirely different story than the one he was hearing.
Unfortunately, he knew he’d never get his hands on that video. Between lawyers and government contracts, he imagined that if Mr. Proskey wasn’t willing to share today, he never would.
The detective nodded. “We’ve been searching for a motive for the murder, and you’ve possibly just provided that. Is there anything else you can tell us, anything else that would help close this case?”
Mr. Proskey shook his head. “No. I wish there were, but we are in the dark as to the identity of these criminals as well. I came down, though, to help in another way. As you know, I have a number of connections with the mayor’s office, and I’ve pressured them to make sure that no matter what you need in this investigation, Detective Lewis, you will have it, and as quickly as possible.”
So nothing, then. Why was Mr. Proskey really here? He had just dropped another possible lead in his lap, but Bryce’s innate distrust of the man prevented him from buying it. There had to be another reason the man was here. Otherwise, this visit was virtually useless.
“Thank you, Mr. Proskey. That influence is greatly appreciated, of course.”
“It’s nothing at all, Detective Lewis, nothing at all.” The businessman flashed a perfect grin at him, and Bryce stood up to leave.
Dick, who must have felt the urge to do something becoming of a captain, spoke up. “Detective Lewis, as you know, we need to solve this. You’ve got new information, now go find the killer.”
Bryce resisted the urge to give Dick the finger. It would do no good, anyway. He simply nodded and left the room, his byzantine case now even more complicated.
Bryce hadn’t wandered more than ten steps back to his office when he heard his name. He turned, surprised to see Mr. Proskey jogging after him. His hair didn’t move at all.
“Detective Lewis, I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t come down here just to put more pressure on you. I do have information that you can use, but I don’t dare share it in front of your captain. People will think I’m as crazy as my father. Is there a quiet place we can talk?”
