Audacious (29 page)

“I can make a simple phone call and search my databases at the same time,” Nelly snapped. “But I don’t have to. I figured you would want to know about Grant and Shredder. I have already done that search, though I doubt you will like my results.”

“Nelly, do you have tact in your database?” Kris asked.

“Yes. In my dictionary under T. But if you insist on insulting my capabilities, don’t expect me to be Miss Sunshine.”

“Note taken,” Kris said, rolling her eyes as her team muffled laughs or raised eyebrows. “Now, about Mr. Grant.”

“There are several hundreds in the database. All were available at the most basic level. None higher. Most have middle-class jobs and lives. If you want, I can download my findings and you can review them.”

“No need to be snippy, Miss Nelly. And the other name.”

“I assume Shredder got shredded by the drug-induced haze,” Nelly said, and then paused.

“Good joke, gal,” Kris said.

“Thank you, I am trying. I searched on various spellings of Schroder, with similar luck to Grant. Oh, Kris, Martinez can be here in five minutes. I told him to come right in.”

“Good, Nelly, was there any Grant Schroder types.”

“No, Kris.”

“So whoever we’re dealing with, he’s bought himself out of every database on the planet,” Kris said.

“Did you search the news archives?” Jack said.

“Searched all the mainstream media for a negative. Still working on the independent stuff. There’s a lot of it.”

“No surprise, there,” Kris said. “If he can buy himself out of the databases, he’s either very camera shy or able to make sure no reporter writes about him.”

“Interesting guy,” the captain observed.

“But he’s with Vicky Peterwald,” Penny pointed out. She’d come in late and been quiet. “Nelly, do a search of the social pages for both Vicky and this fellow.”

“I searched the business, current events, and government areas,” Nelly said. “Kris has never expressed much interest in the social whirl.”

“I think I am now. And Vicky’s only been here for a week or two. Maybe three. That should narrow the search frame.”

“Mainstream is negative. Plenty about Vicky. Nothing about any escort.”

“Anybody surprised?” Kris asked.

“I have a hit. The
Ankara Picayune
— what kind of a name is that— mentions that Miss Victoria was escorted by the noted ‘philanthropic’ Grant van Schrader. The philanthropic is in quotes. I suspect sarcasm. I am searching on Grant van-Schrader,” Nelly said before Kris could tell her to.

In the silence of the room, Kris could almost hear every heartbeat quickening.

“Mainstream media has zip on our philanthropist. No business, no current events. He, or a Grant
von
Schrader does pop up in the small media. There was a strike at a software company. Every employee was fired. He was one of the people subpoenaed. That was squashed. There are other reports of him being involved in labor unrest. Buying property up cheap for development. Stealing patents. Courts always friendly. I don’t like this guy, Kris.”

“I suspect we don’t, either. Is there anything that shows him as a Peterwald man?”

“Not until Vicky arrived.”

“Does the Nuu Enterprises reports from Eden mention this joker?” Kris asked.

“Bingo, we hit the jackpot here,” Nelly quickly reported. “They do not much like this fellow, either. He seems to be on the shabby side of a lot of stuff. Drugs are even mentioned. After getting uncertified parts from shops in his holding company, they are ignoring his bids. Which is not easy. His companies do quite a name shuffle. Buying each other, selling, renaming. A Nuu manager keeps track of this guy full-time.”

“Get me his reports. Also, see if you can find who owns that warehouse where we found Ruth,” Kris said.

“I was about to suggest that,” Ruth said.

That did not turn out to be easy. The government’s available property database was almost a year out of date and Mr. von Schrader seemed to sell his property on a much faster rotation. A database was available— for a very expensive fee— that was more up-to-date. Nelly bought it.

“Mr. Schrader owns several warehouses,” Nelly reported. “Including that one. I have identified six that are as big.”

Penny stood. “Captain, may I borrow those two Marines I had this morning. They’re good at this skulking business.”

“They’re yours. Better take a different rig.”

“And a few of my nanos,” Nelly put in.

And Penny was off at a trot. She opened the door just in time to run into a rather surprised Police Lieutenant Martinez.

“I was told Princess Kris was here,” he said, then noticed Kris and entered the room. Kris waved him to a chair. He took it, but had his eyes on the wall… and the pictures of dead Marines. “What have I walked in on?” he asked softly.

“Nothing your government need concern itself with,” Kris said.

“I hope,” Martinez added under his breath.

“Us, too,” Jack appended.

“Are you aware,” Kris asked, “that my great-grandmother Ruth Tordon was kidnapped this morning and two Marines killed?”

“I had heard it from some news sources,” the policeman said. “I am happy to see you returned to your family,” he added, nodding toward Ruth.

“I… am disturbed,” Ruth said. “I have visited your planet many times. It is an enigma to me, but still I come back, hoping to teach something to your children. I doubt I will return again.”

“My brother’s youngest boy was one of your students. That will be a great loss for us.”

“Will it?” Ruth said. “Am I really making any difference?”

“Steve thought you were, my nephew. You opened his eyes to what other planets have done. What we can do.”

“As I recall, Steven Martinez told me he wanted to immigrate.”

The policeman flinched, and eyed the table. “He has not told his family that.”

“So, why don’t you immigrate?” Kris said.

“This is my home.”

“But you can’t vote. Can’t participate in your government.”

“I am a police officer. I serve my government. I like to think that I make a difference.”

“Have you heard about the contents of the warehouse where I was held captive?” Ruth asked.

“No. I had not heard you had escaped.”

Kris turned to Captain DeVar. “Do we have pictures?”

A “Gunny,” resulted in pictures appearing of the various boxed weapons. The cop rose from his chair and approached the screen on the wall. His hands traced the barrels and firing mechanisms of the machine pistols and assault rifles.

“Holy Mother of God,” he whispered. “Does anyone else know about this weapons hoard?”

“There are quite a few police cruisers stopped outside the warehouse. I assume they’re doing something about them.”

“I should have been informed. Investigating illegal weapons is my job.”

“I don’t think Inspector Johnson thinks so,” Kris said.

“Johnson.” The cop almost spat. “I would have expected him to be at the bottom of something like this.”

“Importing the guns?” Kris asked.

“No, making them disappear. Our third vice president is very much a believer that if a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it, then it did not happen. Johnson is his man.”

“Well, this tree is down,” Kris said. “I don’t care about it, but I can’t help but wonder if there are more trees getting ready to fall and who they’ll fall on. You have any idea?”

Martinez just shook his head for a long time. “My poppa told me it would be like this. But who’s going to listen to just a street cop. He told me the state was going rotten. And someday someone would come along and shove it over.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Ruth said.

“Yes, but will the guy who pushes it over be any less rotten than the state? I know the state, as much as I’m allowed to know it. But what do I know about this other bunch?”

“So, is the devil you know,” Jack said, “better than the devil that just walked in off the street?”

“That’s our question,” Kris said.

“And while I live here, I don’t know much more about it than you do. Is this the only arms hoard?”

“We don’t know,” Kris said.

Martinez laughed bitterly. “I should know, but who’s going to tell me.”

The conversation might have ended on that point, but Kris did a quick survey of Jack and Captain DeVar, and chose to toss some more information on the fire.

“A friend of mine’s dad was a cop. She’s heading out in a few minutes to look over a few places we think just might have more guns. You want to go with her?”

“And do some real police work for a change?” the cop said.

Kris shrugged.

“Count me in. I’ll call the office and sign for annual leave.”

“And if they need you to look at any arms dump they find?” Jack asked.

“They know my mobile number. But I’m betting they won’t call. Not me.”

Jack left to connect Martinez with Penny. That left Kris staring at the pictures on the wall.

“You decided what you’re going to do?” DeVar asked.

“Would it surprise you to know that I often make these things up as I go along?”

“What?” he said, shock in full fake. “You’re human like the rest of us?”

“Oh so true. Well, at least one weapons dump is out of play,” Kris said with a sigh.

“Are you sure?” Ruth said.

“The cops have it.”

“And I bet every one of those cops is carrying something as deadly as what I’m lugging. How would they stand against a full assault team that wants those guns for their screaming hordes?”

“You think I made a mistake, Gramma? Not blowing it up.”

“No, I think it looked like a good idea at the time. But keep an eye on it. It may not stay so good. Just keep an eye on that call.”

“And everything else that isn’t hidden,” Kris sighed. “Did you have days like this, Gramma?”

“Days, months, years, Kris. Some of the best things I thought I’d ever done went sour on me. And some of the worst things turned out a whole lot better than I had any right to.”

Kris leaned back in her chair, mulling that over for a while. “Are you telling me that even movers and shakers don’t always get the moves and shakes they expected?”

Ruth grinned. “And a smart one learns to be grateful for the help.”

Further reflection on that ended as Abby came in.

“The kids safe?” Kris asked.

“Cara’s with her grandmum, so safe is not the word I’d use. Bronc had work he needed to do. Some gang hangs to sanitize.”

“Does he know where his mom is?” Ruth asked.

“No, and doesn’t want to. Not yet. He has a place he can crash for a few nights. He’s no dumb kid. If he’s survived this long in Five Corners, he couldn’t be.”

For a minute, they sat around the table, Kris and Abby, Ruth and Captain DeVar. Then Kris said, “Vacation over. Back to work. What do we know now that we didn’t know yesterday?”

“I am noticing a pattern, Kris” came from around her neck.

“Talk to me, Nelly.”

“The bugs at O’Heidi’s place were the same as the bugs on those two gang gals. Same types. Apparently the same make, though I can’t seem to match the manufacture’s mark to any in known space.”

“Eden strikes again,” Jack said as he rejoined them.

“And the ones at the warehouse?” Kris said.

“I was getting to that. Similar design but more sophisticated. And no maker’s marks.”

“Isn’t that illegal even on Eden?” Kris said.

“I do believe so,” Ruth agreed.

“Any similarity between those and the chip in that auto-gun yesterday?” Jack asked as he rejoined them.

“No maker’s mark on those units, but they use the same manufacturing methods. I found the same ‘fingerprints’ on them. They are likely from the same chip foundry.”

“I’d really like to meet Grant von Schrader,” Kris said.

“Kris, I cannot find any home address for him, in either our databases or the Nuu reports.”

“So let’s try a different approach,” Kris muttered. “That monster limo Vicky is being showboated around in. Captain, did your social intel researchers notice anything about it?”

“I don’t know. Gunny?”

A moment later a tech sergeant presented herself. “Betty, the princess here wonders if you found out anything about that limo Vicky Peterwald is using?” DeVar said.

“Let me check my computer, sir.” It took only a minute. The screen on the wall began to flash with pictures of Vicky. Most were close-ups of her smiling self, boobs threatening to fall out of this dress or that, Kris noted.

One showed her walking away from her limo. “There’s the plates for it, sir. Can that help you?”

“I will need to buy another expensive database.” Nelly almost managed a sigh.

“Abby, this assignment is putting a major dent in even my monthly allowance,” Kris said. “Could you put together a reimbursement voucher for Admiral Crossenshield?”

“I could, but don’t bet on getting this much money out of that fussbudget.”

“Maybe you can negotiate something halfway. The way things are going, I won’t be able to afford to replace that dress you cut off me. Or give Nelly her quarterly upgrade.”

“You better get something out of Crossie,” Nelly said.

Betty and the captain managed to swallow any reaction to this insight into the finances of one of human space’s wealthiest women. Or her computer’s familiar view of the head of Wardhaven’s intelligence community. Gunny just scowled.

A moment later Nelly had the number of Prestige Travel.

“Kris, what are you going to do?” Jack asked with alarm.

“Why don’t you watch and see? Nelly, get ready to tap a phone line.”

“If I can,” Nelly replied quickly.

“Now make the call.”

A moment later, “Prestige Travel. We get you there in comfort and awe.”

“Oh, good. I hear tell you have this huge white limo,” Kris said, dripping hayseeds with every word. “The hugest on this here planet.”

“Ah, yes we do.” The agent’s reply was carefully balanced, neither to inspire a penniless hick to go on, nor to frighten off a hick that had a lot of money she needed separating from.

“Well, this is Print-cess Kristine Longknife from Wardhaven way. I’d like to rent that showboat of yours. I got someplace to be tonight and I’m tired of showing up second best.”