“That’s my take, yeah.”
“What I don’t understand is, why would he have one working for him?”
“Best I can tell, he’s got his own little gang,” Stash noted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not trying to set himself up, or already done it. Like I said, that’s what my people think.”
“Hm. There’s an interesting take. He’s set up as a private investigator, eh? With an actual team of enforcers? Maybe we can sway him into working with us, instead of against us.”
“Maybe. I dunno. But he’s gettin’ cocky, I think. He actually showed up as himself, in uniform, to take Bronze into custody, I guess for the ICPD.”
“His mistake, then. Imp City Police won’t be able to hold Bronze – they never can; they’re not good enough to get anything on him – and then we’ll send Bronze after Ashton. I’m not so keen on the notion of bringing him to our side that I’m willing to risk it if he won’t. Or if he changes his mind later. He’s always got the attempted theft of the Empress’ Sigil in his head, after all.”
“Makes sense to me, boss.”
“So what do you want?”
“We need some sorta, like, pattern recognition,” Gorecki brainstormed. “Something that we can put to work on a face in VR that’ll look through all the makeup and beards and wigs and hairpieces and shit and identify the real face under it.”
“Hm,” Chief Stanier said, intrigued. “That should be doable. Let me check; we might already have something like that in house. If not, it shouldn’t take long to gin one up. Give me ten minutes to check, and I’ll ping you with whatever we’ve got, to hand out to your people.”
“Sounds good, boss.”
“Meantime, make sure whoever you’ve got on Bronze’s arrest gets over there to put a wrench in the works.”
“Already goin’ down.”
“Good.”
But by the time Marc Olestri got back to the scene of the arrest, they were all gone.
Despite their best efforts, the Imperial Police Headquarters never did figure out what happened to Joey Bronze.
Which a certain former accomplice on Wollaston would have thought singularly appropriate, had she been alive.
Interrogations
Gorski came to Ashton’s desk as Ashton worked on the after-action report.
“Nick, son, have you ever seen an Imperial interrogation?”
Ashton glanced up.
“No; why?”
“We’ve been invited to witness the interrogations of the perps you and your team picked up so handily. That way, the ICPD can close the murder case on our books. More than likely, those interrogations will be followed by executions, and we’ve been invited to witness those, too. I thought you might like to see the conclusion of the investigation.”
“Sure,” Ashton said with a nod. “That sounds good.”
“Some of it isn’t likely to be pretty. Can you handle that?”
“I guess I need to get used to it, don’t you think, Stefan?”
“Probably, yes. I just want you to be prepared.”
“Okay. What’s the schedule?”
“I think it’s going to be one in-depth interrogation each day for the next three. Starting this afternoon, in about an hour, hour and a half. If you want to go, we should probably get started.”
Ashton stood and reached for his jacket, hanging on the back of his desk chair.
“Let’s go, then,” he declared.
The pair arrived at the Imperial Park West Palace entrance. The receptionist recognized Detective Gorski, but asked for Ashton’s name and his relationship to Gorski, who explained the loose partnership/protégé aspect. The receptionist nodded, then placed a call.
“Your point of contact will arrive shortly, Detective, Captain Investigator,” the receptionist said. “If you would please have a seat in our waiting area, he’ll be right out.”
The pair sat down and waited.
It was only about ten minutes before a tall blond man in the Imperial Guard uniform and wearing the Sintar Cross, entered the reception area and came straight to them.
“Hello, Detective Gorski!” he said, shaking that worthy’s hand. “I take it you’re here to witness the interrogations?”
“We are,” Gorski said. “Major, I have someone you should meet. This is my protégé, Captain Investigator Dominick Xavier Ashton. Nick, this is Major Robert Allen Dunham IV.”
“Very pleased to meet you, Captain Ashton,” Dunham said, as the two men shook hands. “I’ve heard a good bit about you from your mentor, here.”
“And I, you, from the same source, sir,” Ashton said with a smile.
“Heh. You show a great deal of promise, Ashton.”
“Thank you, sir. I do try very hard. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise. Let’s get started; we don’t want to be late. My sister wouldn’t like it if we hold things up.”
Dunham led the two men into an observation room. It had a one-way glass window on one wall, looking into what was patently an interrogation room. There was a table with handcuff loops on it, and two straight-backed chairs, one on each side. One was bolted to the floor and appeared somewhat larger than the other.
“The chair is equipped with sensors, Captain Ashton,” Dunham said, seeing the direction of his gaze. “In essence, it is a highly sophisticated version of what used to be called a lie detector. There will be a technician and a physician in here, monitoring its readouts. We’ll see what comes next.”
“Gotcha,” Ashton said.
“Please excuse me,” Dunham said then. “I’ll be back before the interrogation starts, but for now, I must see to Her Majesty.”
“Your sister,” Ashton murmured the addendum with an impish grin.
Dunham heard. He shot the briefest of answering grins back at the younger man, then he was gone.
A few minutes later, another Imperial Guardsman entered, along with a man dressed in a dark suit and carrying a small valise.
“Hello,” the guardsman said. “I’m Lieutenant Peter Cox, and this is Dr. Morton Galway. You must be the detectives from
