DeathWeb (Fox Meridian Book 3) (18 page)

All that could be seen of the market itself now was a few areas of concrete which had been put in to support heavy machinery, Fox figured, and some rows of cut paving stone which had been set into the grass. The rows marked the lines of stalls and there were quite a few. The market had been going for a long time, at least twenty years. Fox remembered it as a small affair, but this seemed as though it had grown and become more regulated. There were camera pods mounted on posts at the ends of each row of paving stones. Those had not been there when Fox had last been to the market.

‘The cameras must put a crimp in some people’s style,’ Fox commented. ‘Local kids used to consider it a game to try to lift a few apples or whatever. The older ones thought this was a great place for meeting members of the opposite sex, especially in summer when the ground was guaranteed dry and the bushes were at their thickest.’

‘Local news media suggests that the cameras were put in six years ago,’ Kit supplied. ‘There were complaints about a rise in more professional thievery. These were linked to dustbowl dwellers who started coming here more frequently.’

‘Gangs?’

‘This appears to be more like survivalists. Who
may
belong to a gang, of course. There are no reports of violence associated with the rise in numbers. They appear to be here to trade. In the last three years, some of them have actually begun selling at the market, on official stalls.’

‘Okay. See if we can get the camera data for last market day. Pythia can run through it and see if she can see Sandy. Maybe we can get some indication of her state of mind, and spot friends she may have talked to and anyone trailing her.’

‘Might we return on Wednesday? I believe there is another market on then.’

‘Every week now. It was once a month when it started. We’ll come down and see what’s happening, but I’d like to have an idea of what we’d be looking for by then.’

‘Of course. Detective Rogers has accepted the request and suggests zero nine thirty tomorrow at the precinct.’

Fox nodded, turned, and started back toward the Batesons’ house. ‘Unless it’s changed, it’s not exactly a precinct. Let’s go see if Mister Bateson has come back.’

From the looks of it, he had. There was now a large, 4x4 truck parked up in front of the house. The flat bed at the back was empty and very clean, and the vehicle seemed like overkill, but having a big car for no reason was only a crime against common sense.

The door opened ahead of her again, but this time Crystal stepped back almost immediately to be replaced by Malcolm. The man was big, tall, and powerfully built, with a moderately handsome face, though it had looked better in Fox’s memory. It looked like he had had his nose broken since Fox had last seen him, and he was the kind of man who would have taped it over and not worried about it. He had the kind of solid, lantern jaw that masculine men were supposed to have, short dirty blonde hair, and cold, blue eyes which scanned over Fox as she approached.

‘You’re Jonathan Meridian’s daughter?’ Malcolm asked before she could speak.

‘That’s right. They asked me to come over and see if I could locate your daughter.’

‘You’d better come in.’ He turned, vanishing into the hallway beyond and leaving his wife to lead Fox through to the lounge, on the right, in his wake. ‘Napper detective says she’s probably run away,’ Malcolm went on without even waiting for Fox to properly enter the room. He had positioned himself in front of what was presumably a large, mock fireplace: mock because no one burned wood for heat in the home, not even in Topeka. He stood there with his arms behind his straight back. ‘He’s hunting in Chicago and Detroit. Wouldn’t believe me when I said she’d been taken.’

‘Why do you think she has, sir?’ Fox asked. No one had asked her to sit and he was still standing, so Fox remained on her feet. And noticed the slash of Malcolm’s eyes. Anger? If so, why?

‘She went missing last Wednesday, market day. They’ve been coming here for the market for the last couple of years. I’ve seen them, watching girls. I’ve seen them watching Sandy.’

‘She went missing from the market?’ He looked at her for a second. ‘I’ve not seen any of the police reports. I’m fresh eyes on the case.’

‘She was taken out of her room, Wednesday night, Thursday morning. She was in bed at eleven. I checked in on her. In the morning, she was gone.’

‘Did Detective Rogers check her room?’

‘He looked it over. Said there was no sign of a break-in or a struggle.’

Fox nodded. ‘I’d like permission to run a full forensic sweep of the room. Maybe there’s something there to suggest how and when she went. Something that’s not obvious which would confirm your opinion. It’ll take a few hours. I can come back and set it up first thing tomorrow, if you’re agreeable.’

‘You’ll find evidence of who took her?’

‘If there’s any there, I’ll find it. My parents asked me down here because I have access to the best technology in the world for analysing crime scenes, Mister Bateson.’

‘All right. I’ll be gone at eight. Crystal can let you in after that.’

Fox nodded. Was he not fond of women, cops, or having his time disturbed? ‘Did Sandy have any friends?’

‘Of course she had friends.’

‘It would be useful to talk to some of them. Any of them particularly good friends? A boyfriend, perhaps?’

He scowled. ‘She didn’t have a boyfriend. Crystal, what was the name of that girl? The one that comes round here sometimes?’

‘Um, Trudy. Trudy Shane. She lives five doors up the street.’ Fox glanced around to see that Crystal was also still on her feet, standing there in silence until spoken to. The woman’s hands were clasped in front of her hips, fingers twisting together nervously. ‘Sandy doesn’t have a lot of friends,’ Crystal added. ‘Trudy was probably the best.’

‘She’s quiet, a good girl,’ Malcolm stated, drawing Fox’s attention back to him. ‘My Sandy’s a good girl.’

‘I’m sure she is,’ Fox replied. ‘How about a diary? A lot of kids keep a diary on a wearable or implant–’

‘Sandy’s a good girl. She doesn’t have a personal computer of any kind. I don’t believe in implants and the internet’s just full of… inappropriate behaviour.’

Fox smiled. ‘Yes, of course. All right, Detective Rogers is chasing the runaway angle. Let me be clear that I’ll be checking
any
other possibilities. There’s no sense in duplicating effort, but… Can you think of
any
reason why Sandy
might
have wanted to leave? Anything. Maybe she was being bullied, or had some other problem.’

‘No,’ Malcolm said, and there was the flash in his eyes which, this time, Fox was sure was anger. ‘If she was being bullied by anyone, I’d have known and dealt with it. She was home-schooled. Didn’t want to go to college. She was happy here, with us.’

‘Good, then we can concentrate on finding out where she was taken. I’ll come back tomorrow with my equipment.’ Fox turned as Malcolm nodded and found Crystal already leading the way out.

‘Do you really think you can find her, Miss Meridian?’ Crystal asked as she showed Fox out through the door. Her voice was low, almost inaudible, as though she did not want her husband hearing, but it could have been worry for her daughter…

‘I’m very good at what I do, Mrs Bateson. If she can be found, I’ll find her.’

‘She’s my only child. I can’t have more. She…’ Crystal trailed off.

‘I’ll find her, Mrs Bateson. I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Yes. I’ll see you then.’

~~~

The first stop on the way back was a local fabrication unit where she put in an order for several changes of clothes, waited for one of those, a dress for the party her mother had foisted on her, and then headed out to the dealership Kit had found.

She pulled up her bug in the customer parking area of a large lot, stepped off, and swept her gaze over the array of SUVs, lighter ground cars, light trucks, and a moderately large selection of Q-bugs.

‘Kit, can you check their stock and find something suitable?’

‘There is an online catalogue with stock levels. I can go through it.’

‘I’ll deal with…’ She trailed off as the face of the salesman grinning brightly at her as he approached began to push at memories.

‘Good afternoon, miss,’ the man said. ‘In the market for a new bug?’ He was good: the grin looked genuine, maybe even was. He was tall, slim, lightly muscled, and handsome. The hair, she thought, was dyed blonde, and those eyes were a brighter blue than she remembered. He had had a little work done on his face too: his nose had been thicker and the jawline had been tightened, sculpted.

‘I might be, Simon, yeah. No part-exchange though, it’s my Dad’s. I need a new one.’

His grin turned puzzled and then brightened again as she saw his eyes flick to her hair. ‘Fox? Fox Meridian? Shit! You’re back in Topeka?’

‘It’s temporary.’

‘You were in the Army. And then the Lensmen, right? Are you on a case?’

‘Left the UNTPP, joined NAPA. Left NAPA, now I’m with Palladium Security Solutions. I was asked to work a missing persons case. What the Hell happened to your face?’

‘Huh.’ He lifted a hand to rub over his jaw. ‘Pays to look good in this line of work. You want to come look at some bugs?’

‘Sure.’ Fox followed him across the lot to where the quad bikes were set under a low, metal-framed structure designed to keep both sun and rain off them. Not that there would be much of the latter for a while.

‘I take it you know this gentleman?’ Kit asked inside Fox’s head.

‘Simon Tailor. I knew him when I lived here, though he looked a little different.’

‘We want the Hunter-Benz Sand Viper. Uprated motors, one of MarTech’s latest AI-capable embedded computers. The standard AI is quite capable.’

‘Okay.’ Fox scanned the vehicles, looking for the one Kit had mentioned.

‘Well, this is the range,’ Simon said. ‘We’ve got a couple of GM Panthers, like the one you’re riding. I can let you have one of those for five and a half.’

‘I need something with a little more processing power in the on-board.’

‘Right.’ He walked over to a slightly larger vehicle, patting the saddle. ‘This is the Komodo. Little slower, but it pulls more, and the computer’s upgraded to something better than a pocket calculator. That’s going for eight thousand.’

‘Not bad.’ She pointed to a sleek, wasp-like vehicle set a little apart at the back. ‘What about that one?’

‘The Sand Viper?’ He sounded a little surprised. ‘Oh, well, that’s pretty new. Uprated motors, good pull, goes like a fucking rocket, uh, if you’ll pardon my French.’

‘Pardoned,’ Fox replied, flashing him a grin. ‘You
never
used to swear.’

‘Yeah, well, I grew up, I guess. Computer on that’s the size of a paperback, but it’s got an AI accelerator and the embedded AI’s almost as smart as me.’

‘Didn’t you fail math?’

‘Not the second time.’

Giggling, Fox walked over and ran a hand over the seat. The faux leather was supple and well-padded, and that was as much of a selling point as the specification.

‘I could even execute a copy on this if we push the built-in aside,’ Kit said.

‘You can’t drive,’ Fox pointed out.

‘I could learn. Why should you have all the fun?’

‘Okay, I’ll take it.’

Simon blinked. ‘It’s not cheap…’

‘Company expense account.’

Simon’s grin shifted into overdrive. ‘I may be able to take the rest of the day off.’

New York Metro.

Sam raised his glass, clinking it against the one Marie was holding. ‘Here’s to being home.’

Marie grinned and took a drink. ‘You don’t think we should’ve waited for Fox to get back?’

‘No, for three good reasons.’

‘Three?’

‘Yes. One, this is me moving in and I’m quite sure you two celebrated her moving in as well.’

‘I guess we did.’

He nodded. ‘Two, Fox said not to wait, that she has a party of her own to attend tonight, and that she would raise a glass to my successful move in Topeka.’

‘She’s at a party?’

‘Her mother invited some “old friends” around to see the prodigal returned. I don’t think there were many people Fox knew, but it’s got to be done and she wasn’t really given a choice.’

‘Ah. And the third reason?’

‘When Fox gets back, we can do it again.’

Marie giggled. ‘Those are three very good reasons. I have some pity for Fox though.’

Sam shrugged. ‘She said she was going to spend as much time as possible chatting to an old neighbour who was, at least, entertaining. She also had a dress pattern fabricated which should scandalise the locals and make her mother envious, which she seemed to be enjoying.’ Another giggle. ‘She did say it with a sense of fun. I think she’s reconciled a little with her mother.’

‘Well, that’s good. And the dress sounds great.’

Topeka Agri-Zone.

A wave of silence washed over the assemblage in the large, airy lounge as Fox walked in smiling. Fox spotted a couple of rather shocked, disapproving looks, mostly on the older women, and wondered what their reaction was to her mother’s short, red dress. There were flickers of lust from some of the men, quickly suppressed, and some rapid hiding of smiles from many of the younger women, not that there were many of them. Someone, Fox was not sure who, appeared to have picked himself up a much younger wife who was looking daggers at the newcomer: it was a first impression, but Fox guessed at a mistress who had won the love-triangle battle, but was wary of her new husband’s tendency to switch sides without warning.

Fox’s dress was a black tank, plazkin at front and back with mesh sides revealing a little less than half her breasts. She had on killer heels, six and a half inches high with an inch of platform, which made her taller than just about anyone in the room and lengthened her already long legs. She had picked up a bracelet and necklace in a little jewellery outlet beside the fabricator building. Both were in silver, darkened with enamel. The necklace read ‘DIVA’ in block letters with a bright red kiss-print beneath it, while the bracelet said ‘Sexy’ in scrolling, gem-encrusted script. She had painted her nails blood red, and her lip gloss matched. Her eyes were picked out in kohl, the lids whitened to make her eyes stand out and then shaded above. The last time Fox had worn anything quite so outrageous was when she had gone out for an evening determined to return with a one-night stand.