Titan Song by Dan Stout (top 10 ebook reader .txt) 📕
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- Author: Dan Stout
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“This is preposterous,” he said. “Any fool would be able to see that this arrest is politically motivated.”
“I agree,” I said.
Bryyh side-eyed me. “Since when do you care about public perception?”
“Since it threatens to prevent a conviction and distracts us from the real issues at hand.”
“We’ll take an ARC team,” said Auberjois, doing his best to ignore us. “And we should have an SRT squad on-site in case it gets ugly.”
Flifex’s bowler threatened to slide off the chair back where he’d laid it. He moved its perch to a safer location. “Really, Captain, that seems excessive.”
Special Response Teams were used when large-scale force was expected to be needed, or at least threatened. Barricades, hostage situations, high-profile arrests.
“Auberjois’s right about that much,” I said. “They can sit in a carrier down the street unless needed. We can leave our big guns holstered, but we still gotta bring ’em to the fight.”
Flifex folded the used business card into tidy thirds, then dropped it into the trash bin. “That’s nice, but it’ll take weeks to establish the groundwork and push this through.”
Auberjois’s eyes crinkled with amusement. Up until that moment, I hadn’t realized what a showman he was.
“He doesn’t need you to obtain an arrest warrant,” I told Flifex. “That’s between a detective and a judge. You’re here as a courtesy. A sign of the enormous regard with which we all hold your office.”
Bryyh cleared her throat, pulling me back into step. “Carter . . .”
Flifex seemed unfazed. “You don’t need me for the warrant, that’s true. But you certainly need our office if you want to see charges filed, and the good ambassador prosecuted.” He crossed his legs and tightened the pleat in his pant leg between finger and thumb. “Otherwise, you’ll simply be pissing on the leg of one of the most powerful figures in the AFS, who also happens to be a sorcerer. I have crossed paths with the ambassador, and oh, I assure you, when she is angry, she is keen and shrewd.”
I grinned. “It ain’t just when she’s angry, pal.”
“Precisely,” Flifex said. “So by all means leave me out of this disaster in the making. I for one can live with not being on the ambassador’s hit list.” The double meaning caught him as he said it, and he tittered silently at his own wordplay.
I started to respond, but Auberjois interrupted me. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “Your boss is an elected official. And next year he’s up for reelection. When the papers get wind of how much info we have on her, he’ll have a full-time job defending his decision to sit on his hands.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” said Flifex.
“We wouldn’t,” agreed Auberjois. “But we don’t have to. Look at this,” he pointed at the photos of the mummified corpses, “and think about all the homes and businesses without heat. You really think we can keep this bottled up?”
Flifex chewed his lip. Jax pressed on. “Paulus is on more than a few hit lists herself. A political rival like Katie CaCuri only needs to hear from one patrol cop or administrative personnel, one person in the whole of the Bunker’s thousands, who’s heard rumors that Paulus is tied to the sinkhole. It’ll be all over the news the next morning.”
Auberjois was about to answer but I cut in, stealing his thunder, and hoping to demonstrate that I wasn’t Paulus’s man.
“The captain here wants to use the low-hanging fruit. There is evidence that she had operatives in the vents. You charge her with damage to public property and ask for no bail because of the shocking nature of the crimes and her obvious flight risk. Then she’ll sit in jail long enough for us to uncover the details on the negligent homicide, and possibly some of her countless other crimes we’re assuming she’s guilty of.”
“That’s a fishing expedition.”
“No,” said Auberjois. “It’s a focused investigation of the vent tampering. But if other facts turn up along the way . . .” He shrugged.
“Then,” I said, “the dead find justice, and the CA is a hero.”
Flifex stroked his goatee, pondering the angles. Then he stood, gathering his bowler hat and paper-thin overcoat in his hands. “Very well. When are you dragging this mess before a judge?”
“Like the detective mentioned, you’re here as a courtesy.” Auberjois drew a sealed envelope out of the folder, the closing notes of our dance number. “I already have the warrant. Now we just need to go get our bad guy.”
“I see.” Flifex put on his hat and carefully adjusted its angle to the proper amount of jaunt. “Good luck to you, then.” He tipped his head to the rest of us and departed.
“So much for our sit-down and make-friendly,” I said.
“Stow it, Carter.” Bryyh’s eyes were on Auberjois. “Why did you play it that way? Why wait for us to be here, too?”
“Your celebrity detective already figured that out.” Auberjois clacked his jaws. “Courtesy, of course. A sign of the enormous regard with which I hold your department. Paulus has a public appearance scheduled for tomorrow. We’ll take her then. She’ll go quietly, if only to not cause a scene. Let’s hope she doesn’t change her plans in the meantime.”
“I think you’ve said enough.” Bryyh abruptly stood and headed for the door, and Jax and I walked behind. Once in the hall, we held a discussion, our voices low.
“Is it just me,” Jax said, “or did Auberjois tell us the details of when he’s going after Paulus, but not Flifex?”
“That was intentional,” I said. “If Paulus changes her plans at the last minute, he can accuse me of tipping her off.”
“It’s like feeding info to an informant to test their reliability,” Bryyh agreed. “But there’s a thousand reasons Paulus might reschedule an event. This is a definite attempt to get Carter over a barrel.”
Jax thought that over. “What an asshole.”
Bryyh’s eyes bulged, and she barely kept a smile in check.
Jax continued, his voice rising. “So what do we do?”
“Nothing,” said Bryyh. “He wants to take her down,
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