"I get the picture. I'll think about it."
"Please do. There are other candidates, so we'd appreciate an answer in the next few days."
"I'll keep that in mind." I nodded and hung up, wondering if I should've accepted on the spot. There are worse jobs than corporate security. I'd wanted work like that when I started this business. Clearly, DynaTech was after a figurehead, but I could stand to be paid for work I wasn't doing.
I chose Vallejo's number. He answered immediately. His mirrorsuit made him look like a mobile funhouse exhibit. I started a smile, then stifled it, which must've resulted in an odd expression. He said, "Mr. Maxwell. If you're not feeling well, you can call me later."
"That's all right. I was just practicing my scowl in case I got your partner."
"Ah. Don't tell Chumley I said this, but he takes scowls as tribute. To truly annoy him, be cheerful."
"You seem rather chipper yourself."
"And why not? It's Christmas Eve."
I'd lost three days. Well, you should pay for death, I suppose. "What did you want from me?"
"Everything you know about Zoe Domingo."
"That could take a while."
"I've got time."
"Like I said before. She hired me to find who killed Janna Gold."
"Did you?"
"No. You read the last page of mysteries to see who did it, don't you?"
Vallejo grinned. "Guilty. Take it at your own pace."
"We covered the casino when you brought her in for questioning, so I'll skip that. The next morning, we went to the Huntington to see if Oberon Chain knew why Gold came to L.A. He didn't. So we called Amos Tauber. A bot answered, claiming it was Jefferson 473 and it belonged to Tauber. But when we met Tauber at the U., he said he didn't own a bot. Someone had cut into his personal line."
I let Vallejo think about that until he said, "Go on."
"The bot knew when we would meet Tauber. It must've sent Blake to kill Tauber and frame us. Some over-enthusiastic copbots gave Zoe an overdose of sleep darts, so I took her to Sherman Oaks General and made a doctor save her life. A young guy; I didn't get his name."
"Dr. Jenkins. He filed a report."
"The second copbot attack was scary enough that Zoe decided to leave town before someone managed to murder her. That's the basic story."
"Except for the part about you getting killed."
I nearly grinned. Though Vallejo was playing his hand close to the chest, he probably didn't know about Eddie's involvement, and I couldn't see any reason to drag Eddie into this. And I'd guessed right about Arthur not reporting his car being stolen. That tale would've hurt Arthur's rep, and he would've had to invent a better reason for being with us in the first place than kidnapping us for Django Kay. The only part that I regretted omitting was Zoe's suspicion about Oberon Chain. Until I was sure she was someplace safe, I wasn't about to give anyone extra incentive to kill her.
I said, "Django Kay, Arthur Madden, and a few of their pals were using me for target practice. They killed a weasel named Nate who worked at Dr. Moreau's on Lankershim."
Vallejo's nod rippled the reflections in his mirrorsuit. "A wolfwoman called that in. She told a crazy story about her and the weasel being shot up with something that made him werewolf."
"An enzyme, according to Kay."
"They autopsied the weasel and tested the wolf. There wasn't anything odd in either of them, but we'll ask Kay about it."
I decided to share more information. "You know he's passing."
Vallejo straightened up. "Kay is?"
"Zoe thinks he's wolverine stock."
"If that's true, he's about to get some brand new problems."
"I can't think of a nicer guy to get them. How's the wolf?"
"We're not charging her for helping you, if that's what you mean. Not unless we find another reason to go after her. She was very helpful identifying Kay's crew."
"Who'd she pin?"
"Arthur Madden and Bruno Samson. We've got good descriptions on a couple of humans, but no names yet."
"Blond guy and a black woman?"
"Yeah."
"I don't remember anything helpful." I brought up something that had been nagging me. "Kay said that all he wanted was the earring."
"Not Chain's reward?"
"Apparently not."
"I'll ask him about it when we bring him in."
"You'll share what he says?"
"Of course." Vallejo smiled. "Your life should be simpler now. Chain withdrew his reward."
I shook my head. "And here I was ready to snitch on me."
"But Singer Labs is offering fifty meg for the earring."
"Singer? They say it's theirs?"
"Yes. Any idea where it is?"
"Hey, if I could give it to them, I would in a second."
Vallejo stroked his chin, then leaned forward. "If this'll go no further, I'll share what we know."
"Out of the goodness of your heart?"
He shook his head. "Strictly a business transaction. You won't be satisfied until you have answers. I've been authorized to see you get them."
"If I don't agree?"
"Then no answers. And, if you go public, I'll deny this conversation took place."
"What do I sign?"
"We've checked on you. Your word's good enough."
"And this call is being saved?"
Vallejo turned his palms up before him. "I'm afraid so."
I gave him my widest grin. "Anything in my teeth?"
"No."
"The call a few minutes ago, when you accepted my bribe and joked about your boss's hair, that wasn't recorded too, was it?"
Vallejo closed his eyes, then opened them. "Mr. Maxwell—"
"Okay. Let's hear it."
He took a deep breath. "The AIs called Doyle and Blake were part of a test to see if AIs would make good cops. Only a few people in high places knew they weren't human."
"How high?"
"I can't answer all your questions."
"CIA? NSA? Wink if I'm getting close. IRS?"
"What I'm telling you came through a colonel at the Pentagon. He could've been speaking for anyone. For the last two years, the AIs worked perfectly, so far as we can tell. Then they were assigned to Janna Gold's case."
"What case?"
"Gold had a contract with Singer Labs. They suspected she'd stolen a device they were developing for the feds."
"The earring."
Vallejo nodded. "We showed the subway video to some people at Singer. They recognized it."
"What's it do?"
"What you saw. It takes bots offline. If you know the codes, you can then reprogram them."
"Does it affect AIs?"
"As in, did someone use it around Blake or Doyle to scramble their programming?"
I nodded.
"That's unlikely. The device intercepts signals from outside sources. It shouldn't affect anything self-controlled."
"Another theory down. What happened?"
"The LAPD was asked to keep an eye on Gold while she was in town. Strictly surveillance. Since AIs don't sleep, pee, or go for donuts, Blake and Doyle seemed perfect for the job. But something screwed up. It's as if the order to watch became an order to kill. Maybe the big brains at Chain Logic can figure it out. Maybe we'll never know."
"You're saying Blake and Doyle just happened to go screwy at the same time?"
"They're different models, but they could share the same design flaw. Or a virus might've gone from one to the other. It may be perfectly natural that they acted up at the same time."
"Where do the killer copbots fit in?"
"If the AIs couldn't jibe their wish to kill Gold with their programming not to hurt humans, they may've had a copbot do the deed for them. Human rationalization gets twistier than that. Why shouldn't AI? Or they might've decided that bots were the most efficient way to do the job. Or if they knew that what they were doing would be noticed, they could've used bots to keep attention away from them. Doyle didn't intervene until the cat escaped the first bot, and Blake didn't act until the cat shook her bodyguard." Vallejo shrugged. "We're drowning in a sea of ifs, I admit."
"Have another one, then. If the AIs can reprogram copbots, why should they want the earring? To keep their monopoly?"
"Maybe that part of their programming didn't change. If the cat had given the earring to Doyle at the subway station, he might've brought it back to headquarters and turned it in."
"Or not."
"Or not," Vallejo agreed. "We can't know now."
"That covers Gold's death. Don't tell me you had Tauber under surveillance, too."
Vallejo hesitated, then nodded.
"What'd you think he'd stolen?"
Vallejo ignored my tone, which wasn't exactly respectful. "Tauber's political views brought him into contact with chimera separatists and AI rights groups. We were watching him as much for his safety as for what we might learn."
Lucky him, I thought. I only said, "So it's pure coincidence that looking into Gold's death led me to the AIs's next victim?"
"You found a link between Gold and Tauber—AI rights. If the AIs were aware of the same link, they might've kept killing people with similar connections."
"People with AI rights connections that the government was watching," I said, just to clarify things.
Vallejo grimaced and nodded.
"Who else fits that category?"
"No one I know of."
"Oberon Chain's name keeps cropping up."
Vallejo looked blank. "He's never been suspected of anything. Beyond the usual cut-throat business practices of a silicon king, that is."
"What about Jefferson 473? It's still out there—"
"It may not exist."
"Zoe and I saw— Oh." In the virtual age, nothing is real unless you touch it, and then you should get a second opinion. I said, "So you lay it out like this: Blake knew I was working for the cat. She tapped my phone. I called Tauber. Blake cut in with a tin man animation. My talk with the Jefferson sim told Blake when and where we would meet Tauber. Hell. That call might've made her decide to kill Tauber."
"Unless she already planned to kill Tauber and thought it'd be neater to take care of the cat at the same time."
"Why frame Zoe for Tauber's murder?"
"Maybe it wasn't a frame. Blake killed Tauber. Domingo destroyed Blake. People panicked and thought she had werewolfed. Isn't that the simplest explanation?"
Realizing I wanted to reject his idea made me consider it. It's a detective's job to find order behind the face of chaos, but even the best of us—maybe especially the best of us—can create conspiracies out of coincidence. We hear thunder and ask our clients why mad bombers are targeting them. We see mist and hunt for smoking guns. We find nothing and conclude the first person passing by must've hid the evidence. Sometimes the person behind the curtain is only a janitor.
If Zoe hadn't told me about Oberon Chain's smell, I might've concluded that the case was over then. Vallejo was waiting for a response, so I nodded and said, "Could be."
He reached for his disconnect. "I'll be in touch."
"Hey! In all your scenarios, we're clear of all charges, right?"
"You are."
"Not Zoe?"
"She used the earring at the cafeteria. After she said she'd lost it." Before I could try to explain that, Vallejo said, "We'll assume you didn't know she'd lied. And we're happy those bots didn't get either of you. But it's hard to give her the benefit of the doubt now."
"Regarding what?"
"Chain Logic says the AIs' programming could've been faulty. But they think it's more likely someone tampered with them."
I stared at him. "That puts us right back where we were!"
"Not really. You're clear, but the cat still may be guilty. That'd explain why she ran so hard."
"The other night, you agreed she had a good reason to run. If someone used the AIs to kill Gold, Zoe's next on their list."
"Who else could've used them?"
"I'm still working on that."
Vallejo frowned. "I thought you're off the case."
"That doesn't mean I don't have an opinion."
"You think someone unknown for reasons unknown using means unknown represents such a threat to Domingo's life that she couldn't turn herself in."
"Fear doesn't need good reasons."
"No," Vallejo agreed. "But a police report does. Gold had a great deal of information about AIs. The cat could've gotten hold of that information."
"To kill Gold?"
Vallejo nodded.
"Why?"
"Maybe Gold was going to cut her out of her will. The cat remains the most likely suspect."
"Why would Zoe want Tauber dead?"
"Lots of chimeras felt betrayed when he started working for AI rights. Maybe she's killing everyone who let her down."
"She's not psycho."
"You think you know her?"
"Well enough to know she's not psycho."
"For your sake, I hope you're right. Any other questions?"
"Maybe I'll have some when you tell me what Django Kay says."
"Call any time." Vallejo disappeared from the projection field.
I stayed on the bed for ten or fifteen minutes. I had no reason to hurry. The nurse wanted me to be comfortable. David Melius wanted to give me a great job. The cops had all day to answer my questions. I was Mr. Popularity. I ought to have felt great. If I could've forgotten about Zoe's belief that an AI was acting as Oberon Chain, and if I could've convinced myself that she was merely a cute crittergirl who had killed a few boring hours with me, I suppose I would have.
The older woman in the room across the hall looked disappointed when I came out dressed. I gave her a big smile anyway. Clovis hurried toward me as I approached the elevator. The dogman was shorter than he looked on HV. He called, "Mr. Maxwell! Mr. Maxwell!"
"Yes?"
He handed me a PowerPad. "I didn't want to leave this in your room."
"Why not?"
"A patient had a micro HV stolen from her room last week."
"Do all your patients get appliances when they leave?"
He frowned. "This isn't yours?"
"I've never—" I looked at the computer again. It wasn't new. It had a scuff mark on one corner. With something like hope and dread, I pressed the power button, but there wasn't any note for me on its holographic screen.