The Administration Series (127 page)

Toreth never understood why people did such fucking stupid things, simply out of some atavistic urge to breed. Still, if he couldn't find anything on Kemp, he'd take this as compensation. If he could dig up enough names, it would make a nice little case — conspiracy, corruption, violation of numerous population control laws.

He sat down on the bed next to Chris. "You don't need me to tell you how much shit you're in, but I will anyway. Reproduction without a valid license is a Justice matter. If I call it in now, they'll send someone round to arrest both of you, and that will be it. No mitigation, no right of appeal — automatic processing."

He paused for a moment to let that sink in, then continued. "It starts with enforced termination and sterilisation, and it doesn't improve much after that. Re-education for both of you, and when they're done, you won't be seeing each other again. Or Allie. At her age she'll probably end up in Administration care until she's fifteen, then she's out on the streets. Do you understand all that?"

Chris nodded, staring straight ahead, hands clenched in the bedspread.

"Now, here's the alternative. I can make it an I&I case,
if
you can tell me who else is involved. If you give me enough information to work it up into something I like the look of, I can have you classified as a privileged informant. That means money and resettlement, somewhere nicer than this. And I can get the pregnancy legitimised."

Now Chris looked at him. He licked his lips and said, "Really?"

"Yes, really."

Toreth watched as Chris thought it over. Whatever his character flaws, impulsiveness wasn't foremost among them. After a while he said, "Does my name get tied to it?"

There was no point lying. "Possibly. If there's anyone involved who can afford expensive lawyers, they might be able to force a disclosure of evidence. Or, well — " he shrugged.

Chris nodded. He'd know that all it took was a source in the right department, and I&I wasn't immune to that.

"So what about protection? For Dina and Allie. Fuck — for me too, once Kemp hears about it."

"Why the hell would Kemp care?"

"He likes his employees to stay on the straight and narrow. And — " Chris hesitated, then the tension in his shoulders relaxed suddenly as he made up his mind. "Because he's behind it. He runs the scheme."

Briefly, the bed seemed to tilt under him, like a bad room transition in the sim. It went way beyond 'too good to be true'. So far beyond, in fact, that Toreth wondered if he'd hallucinated the statement. "
Runs
it? Kemp senior?"

Chris nodded.

"How the fuck do you know?"

He should've guessed the answer.

"Jonny told me."

"So how did he know?"

"No idea. But . . . well, after I'd been working for him for a couple of months, I told him I needed a corporate contract. It might've helped with the DoP. He said he couldn't do that, but he knew a different way round it. He said he'd fix it up."

"Are you sure it was Kemp behind it?"

"Yeah. Jonny took me up to Kemp at some kind of black-tie family event and he — " Chris shrugged. "He just asked him about it, right out. Kemp was pretty fucked off, I can tell you. But the next week Almond, the man I mentioned before, came round to the flat to explain to us how it worked. He said — "

"Wait a minute — Kemp knows that you know he's involved?"

"I . . . yes, he does. Or he knows Jonny told me he was."

Why was it that every fucking thing he heard made the situation more complicated? Toreth thought about the security cameras and the guard on the main desk. Not promising. If Gil Kemp got word that he and Chevril had been here, things were going to go very badly indeed. Bad for him and a great deal worse for Chris.

"Is there a way out of here that isn't covered by the cameras?"

"Yes. Out the back — that's the way I came in." He grimaced. "We owe a month's rent, so I'm avoiding the agent. Why?"

"Because you need to get out of here, quickly and quietly. I'll find somewhere for you, temporarily."

"Dina and — "

"Yes. All three of you. Pack whatever you need, enough for a few days. Go down to the back and we'll be waiting for you." He hesitated. "No. Wait until we leave, go out the back and come in again through the front. Make sure the guard sees you. Then pack and come down. You know why I'm saying all this, don't you?"

Chris nodded. "Kemp. So he doesn't know I talked to you."

"Right. So you weren't planning to do anything fucking stupid, were you? Like run?"

"No." His gaze slipped away, very briefly.

"Not good enough. Listen to me. If you run, it becomes a question of who finds you first — Kemp or me. It might not feel like it, but with me you have rights. I can only do what the law lets me. Now, that's a lot of very unpleasant things, but it's nothing compared to what Kemp can do, if he feels like it. How old's Allie?"

Chris frowned at him, confused by the sudden question, then said, "Seven."

"Which is below the age of criminal responsibility. Whatever you've done, I can't touch her. Kemp can do whatever he wants. No waiver, he just needs to find someone willing to do it for him. Think about that."

It took another few seconds before Chris nodded. "Okay. Yes. I'll do what you said."

"Good. Don't explain anything to Dina — you can do that when we get you somewhere safe."

"She won't panic. She isn't like that."

Toreth sighed. "Just do what you're fucking told. Get in practice for later."

At the reception desk, Toreth and Chevril stopped to enquire, slowly and loudly, whether Chris had arrived after they had, and then to impress how important it was that he didn't hear they'd been there.

As the car drove round to the back of the building, he explained the plan to Chevril.

"Why my flat?" Chevril asked, once the car had parked in the least conspicuous spot they could find.

"Because they know exactly where I live. And I'm not risking a division safe house — Kemp told me he had lots of friends. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't, but I'd rather not take the chance of him finding out we have Chris. We need to get some solid evidence on him."

"I'm not putting Ellie in danger. What if another load of his bloody heavies turn up?"

"They won't. Kemp isn't as fucking stupid as his son. Chris is all the link we have to him at the moment — Kemp'll go for him and leave us alone."

"Remind me again why I'm doing this?"

Toreth grinned. "Bonuses and commendations? Don't you want to be famous?"

Chevril rolled his eyes. "No, I want a nice, cushy job exactly like the one you turned down. I wonder if stitching up a major corporate player is going to help my chances?"

"Don't fuck around, Chev. Can I use the flat?"

"Of course you can." Chevril sighed. "But don't say I didn't warn you if it all blows up in your bloody face. Our bloody faces."

Rather to Toreth's surprise, Chris came out of the rear of the building only a few minutes after they parked the car. He looked frightened but in control, as did Dina. She didn't say anything for the duration of the journey, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor of the car. Toreth's spirits rose slightly — hysterical witnesses were near the top of his list of dislikes about his job.

At their destination, they stopped the car only long enough to get people out and into the building. Chevril agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to take the car and check for any signs that they'd been followed.

Once inside, Toreth felt safe enough. Although, unlike his own place, the majority of tenants weren't Int-Sec employees, the place was solidly respectable middle-ranking Administration. The security covered all the entrances and corridors.

Chevril's wife Elena welcomed them with her usual imperturbable calm. The abrupt appearance of Toreth and a fugitive witness complete with family seemed to cause her no more surprise than if it had been her husband at the door. Once inside, Toreth explained what they needed, and Elena smiled, nodded, and said it would be perfectly all right.

"Thanks, Elena," Toreth said, as she took Dina and the child through to show them the guest room.

"My pleasure. Help yourself to something to drink. You know where everything is."

As he turned towards the kitchen, Toreth noticed Chris watching Elena walk away, his mouth slightly open. She tended to have that effect on men — hell, she certainly did on him, even after knowing her for fifteen years. Her long, black hair hung down her back in an immaculate curtain, swaying as she walked. Dina, pretty enough in her own way, looked drab beside her, as well as suddenly tiny.

When Chris tore his gaze away, Toreth raised an eyebrow. Chris frowned, defensive. "I was only thinking . . . "

"What?"

"She's tall."

Tall, dark, and mind-meltingly gorgeous. "One-eighty, in bare feet."

Chris shook his head. "And she's married to — "

"Chevril. Yeah. Which, incidentally, is none of your fucking business, except for being grateful to have somewhere to stay."

Chris smiled sourly. "Grateful. Right." Then his expression changed as he caught sight of Toreth's face. "I am! I am. It's just not what I was planning to do with my day."

Toreth nodded. "Remember — any time you want to get rid of me, I can call Justice and they can take over."

Chris closed his eyes briefly. "Don't — please, don't say that to Dina. She isn't thinking about it at the moment, and I don't want her to start."

"Behave yourself and it won't be a problem." Toreth led him into the kitchen. "I'll make some coffee, and then we can go through everything you know about Kemp and his operation. Starting with names."

Chris shook his head. "I don't know any. Honestly, I don't. Almond, that's all, and I only know that because Jon told me. None of the medics we met used names."

"Fair enough, then we'll start with descriptions . . . "

They were still talking when Chevril reappeared. "I didn't see anyone, which means they aren't there, or they're very good. Probably the latter, knowing my luck. How's things?"

"Fine. Did you keep the car?"

"Yes. It's round the back." Chevril looked at his watch. "Are we going to have time?"

"Should do — they're very quick. Take over here for a minute, while I get everything set up."

He went out into the hall to call Sara. When she answered, she sounded upset. "Toreth? Where are you?"

"Somewhere."

"I was worried."

Daylight dawned. "No need. I'm fine. I've got caught up in something, though. Is there anything I absolutely have to be there for this afternoon?"

"Let me look." Normal, unruffled Sara again. "Nothing that I can't postpone or delegate for you."

"Good. I need you to do some things for me. First, I need a privileged informant application submitting. Chris Harper — his file is already pulled in my name. It needs to go into the system
now
and, this is the important bit, it's got to be processed before this evening."

"That's no problem."

"Great. Second thing: connected to that, file an IIP, joint for Chevril and me. Conspiracy by someone to commit something corrupt — as vague as you can make it."

"Okay."

"It's got to include an authorisation for the use of outside agencies for gathering evidence."

"Oh."

"Yeah." He could imagine her face as she imagined Tillotson's. "Can you do it?"

"How expensive will it be?"

"Low thousands if it all goes wrong. Less if it doesn't."

"Um . . . is it an emergency?"

Toreth considered. If everything came off, it wouldn't matter whether it was or not. But if things fouled up, this was where Internal Investigations would start taking them to pieces. It had to be by the book. "Could be — depends what happens, and when."

"Fine. I'll say it is, and I'll put it through this afternoon. You're in luck — it's Tuesday."

For a moment, the comment puzzled him. Then he remembered: Tuesday was Tillotson's long lunch day. Fucking his mistress was the popular assumption, although Toreth found it hard to believe — both that Tillotson had one in the first place, and that he'd take time off work for her if he had.

"Is that all?" Sara asked.

"No. One more thing — get someone on my team to start some
very
discreet enquiries as to where Jon Kemp's got to. Probably his father's place, but I want to be sure. I don't want him brought in, I just need to know where he is. It's more important that no one hears about it than that we find him — ask B-C to do it. That's all. I'll be in touch."

As he was looking for the second number he needed, someone spoke behind him. "Para-investigator?"

It was Dina, without her daughter or Chris, and looking even more scared than she had at home.

"What can I do for you?" Toreth asked.

"Chris says . . . that if he helps you, you're going to sort things out with the Department of Population." She put one hand on her stomach. "Is that true?"

Chris hadn't kept his mouth shut after all. "Yes."

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. After a few seconds, she nodded. "Will you put that in writing for me?"

Taken aback, he hesitated.

"I'm sorry," Dina said, not sounding anything of the sort. "It's not that I don't trust you, but promises like that sometimes get forgotten. If you got taken off the case, I mean, or . . . something like that."

"I understand." She had guts, that was for sure. Not many people would face down an I&I uniform, especially when it was plain she understood how much shit she was in. "In writing — of course. Now?"

"Yes, please. If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"No trouble at all. Go through to the living room, and I'll be there in a few minutes. I've got one more call I have to make."

Toreth felt confident that if Kemp was going to try something, it would be done tonight, because it was only worth the risk if it happened in time to stop Chris talking to them. Chevril's flat was closer to Chris's place than was I&I, so they both waited there. They took turns monitoring the emergency comms networks for anything that might show Kemp's men had moved. They'd need to get there quickly if they heard anything.