“Lance,” the lawyer cautioned.
Salvi shrugged. “Some kids get great fake ID these days. Especially if their sugar daddy buys one for them.”
“I can’t control–”
“Yes, you can, Lance,” Salvi cut him off, dropping any friendliness now.
“IDs can be forged,” the lawyer said. “Law enforcement can’t keep up with the hackers and the tech pros these days.”
“Who supplied the neural tech?” she asked Chaney. He stared back at her, silent. “Who supplied the drugs?” she asked. “Did they come from the same source?”
“What does this have to do with a murdered police officer and a missing girl?” the lawyer asked.
“Everything.”
“How so?” Chaney asked her, appearing genuinely intrigued.
“The missing girl was last seen entering Floor to Ceiling. The police officer went in undercover to find her. He was tortured and murdered. Two people went into your club. One disappeared. One died. Do you care to explain to me how that might’ve happened?”
“Whoever was responsible, it wasn’t me,” Chaney said. “I merely provide a venue for people to drink and dance in.”
“And use illegal tech and drugs,” Salvi added. “You never saw or heard anything?”
He shrugged. Salvi placed her forearm on the table and tapped at her iPort, bringing up hologram images of Caine and Clare.
“Have you seen either of these people?”
Chaney stared at the two. Salvi saw recognition as he stared at Caine.
“Yes or no?” she demanded.
“I saw the man in the Ceiling once. I’ve never seen her before.”
“Who was the man talking to?”
“He was with a small group. Some were regulars, some were unfamiliar.”
“Who were the regulars?”
“Believe it or not I don’t know all my clients by name.”
“Okay, give me a physical description .”
“They were white. Rich.”
“Was Detective Caine seen with these people often on your other levels?”
“I don’t know. I have several clubs and I’m always bouncing from one to the other. As you well know,” he smiled.
“We’ll need to access your security footage and have our AI identify these men.”
“I guarantee my clients’ confidentiality, so I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” Chaney said.
“You can if we hand you a warrant,” Salvi said, then turned to the mirrored windows, giving a look to those inside, to have Riverton start the warrant process.
“I have nothing to hide,” Chaney said.
“Except your underground club.”
“The club was underground to ensure the privacy of my clients.”
“So they could partake in a whole raft of illegalities.”
“Everything that took place in my club, was done with everyone’s consent–”
“Lance–” the lawyer cut him off.
“Consent or not,” Salvi said, “it’s still illegal to use that neural tech and those drugs.”
“People will do what they want anyway,” he said. “I merely provided them with a space to do things safely.”
“Lance!” the lawyer barked.
“She was there, she saw everything!” Chaney snipped back. The lawyer relented.
“You think you gave them a safe space?” Salvi asked him.
“You remember Erica?” he asked.
“The woman who injected me with the drug without my consent?”
“She’s a qualified nurse. All the injectors were. We didn’t allow the patrons to do it themselves. You saw the console for the neural tech. That was used to observe the subjects and ensure they were travelling alright.”
“I did not consent to be stabbed with that needle.”
“The moment you stepped into that room with me, the moment you allowed her to apply the neural devices, that was your consent.”
Salvi leaned across the table. “No. It wasn’t.”
He leaned across the table too. “You came onto me, detective. You practically begged me to give you the drug. How was the ride by the way? Did you enjoy it? Is that how far undercover officers take things these days?”
“Yes, because I needed to get my hands on the neural tech so we could try and track the supplier.”
“So if you have the tech and you know, then why are you asking me who they are?”
“What’s your connection with Neuricle Corporation? Their tech was recently stolen. Know anything about that?”
“You’re accusing him of theft now?” the lawyer asked.
“Not only was he allowing illegal neural tech to be used in his club, but he was allowing stolen illegal neural tech to be used.”
“I didn’t know it was stolen.”
“You didn’t ask where it came from?”
“No.”
“Who supplied it?”
Chaney didn’t answer.
“Do you realize how much trouble you’re in?” Salvi asked.
“Do you realize why we ask our guests to sign an NDA? Why they expect our silence in return?”
“Do you understand that a man is dead? That a girl is missing? That several girls are missing?”
Chaney stared at her. She could see his mind ticking over. The information that several girls were missing appeared to be news to him. “I told you I don’t know anything about that.”
“By staying silent, you are complicit in this person’s crimes.”
“I can’t control what people do outside of Diabolique!”
“You let them fulfil their fantasies inside Diabolique. You don’t get to enable them then wash your hands of this.”
“The whole point of my club is to provide a safe space with security and medical staff, and consent! That’s always what it’s been about. Nothing more!”
“Maybe so, Lance, but someone has been preying on your clientele. Someone has made young girls go missing, has brutally ended the life of a young detective.” Salvi pulled up images of Caine’s body, tied to the rotating wheel. “One of the cops I worked with!” Chaney looked away from the pictures. “Do you want to look that guy’s girlfriend in the eye and tell her that’s not what your club was about?” Salvi asked.
“It wasn’t what my club was about!” he said through gritted teeth.
“Maybe so, but people have gone missing and someone has taken your drug-tech and unleashed it on the streets. People are dying.”
“You’re blaming me for the crime wave now?”
“The drug on the streets is called Fyte. It is exactly like Flyte but instead of people fucking it’s about people fighting, Lance, and people are getting killed. Someone took your Flyte drug-tech, they messed with it, and now it’s leaked onto the streets as Fyte.”
“The
