Paranoid eyes observed every shadow, looking for the slightest shift, any motion that wasn't part of the normal pattern. He wished he had his dog back. Several people approached from the walkway. He gave them a wide birth as they passed.
There was no one, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was stalking him. It grew as Matt stepped up onto the boarding platform and waited. Each moment passed like a pendulum swing, slow and inevitable.
The transit car stopped and he leapt on board, and threw his back against the wall of the vacant cage, eyes searching like a hunted animal as the door slid closed and the car moved along the track. Thankfully, each meter down the track eased the tightness in his chest and he started to breathe easier again. By the time he reached his own stop, he felt like a foolish child afraid of the dark. He stood up erect, brushed his uniform straight, and walked out of the car and down the walkway to his apartment.
Matt’s legs felt as though they could scarcely hold his weight, but climbed the stairs all four levels up to his apartment. He listened to each creak intently. His neighbors, he knew, were most likely asleep by that time. He liked having the hallways to himself. As he turned the door he appraised his apartment door, more specifically, he focused his attention on a small rectangular piece of paper that was placed at eye level. Written on it, in blocky letters, were the words, THEY ARE WATCHING YOU.
Matt inspected the locks for any telltale scratches and sniffed the air. Any electronic lock override device would have to be powerful and might leave the smell of ozone. As far as he could tell, they were all secured. None showed any signs of tampering. Matt pulled the paper off the door and entered quietly, locking the door him. It took several inspections of each room and all the locks before he felt comfortable enough to go to try to sleep. He took the maximum dose of medication the psychiatrist would allow, but got little sleep that night.
Chapter 12
Matt left his psychiatrist’s office with new medications, a new therapeutic game in hand, and a smile on his face. His doctor said that his increase in symptom intensity was due to the new stresses and should quickly subside. Regaining his position, the doctor thought, most likely brought back many of the feelings and memories that Matt experienced when he lost his rank. It made sense to Matt, and he was glad for the stronger medicine. The new pills came in quick metabolizing gel capsules. The doctor promised almost instant absorption, and immediate relief. He took one as he arrived and Matt could feel it taking effect before his session was over.
Trees were dispersed around the park, tall and nearly perfect. Still there was no sound of wind, no waving or rustling and no sound of birds. Jill was right. There was something very wrong in that. He wasn't sure that false bird songs would have enhanced the ambiance, but they could at least turn up the city ventilators to create a gentle breeze. At least he could feel the heat of Sirius Primary upon his face. It almost felt like earth’s sun. He slowly strolled along and reveled in his freedom from anxiety. Jill's face came to mind, not the bruised face of the previous night, but the unmarred beauty of their first meeting. It filled him with an enigmatic joy.
He arrived at work grinning. The balance of the paperwork from the preceding day couldn’t bring him down. He scanned through the screen, signing in the applicable places and then when on to the new work. The chair was comfortable enough and he had a fresh cup of coffee. He was ready to begin delving once again into the Sisyphean piles.
The man who had assaulted Jill was in a holding cell, having pled guilty. His defender was in discussions with the judicial council over penalty. A restraining order was now in effect, so at the very least Jill wouldn't have to worry about him. If he got within ten meters, alarms would go off and an officer would intervene. Matt still promised himself that he would monitor the man, just to be certain.
The next file comprised the data on the rape investigation. The trial for that case was set for the following day. Matt was still astounded at how fast things occurred in colonial security. Although he felt rushed, he looked over each document judiciously; the last thing that he wanted was to let a rapist go on a technicality. Of course, such a thing couldn't happen on Sirius. The legal system was designed so that the computer wouldn’t have let him file an arrest order if there were any technical issues. Still, it was his first case and he wanted it to be perfect.
“Crap!” the voice of Officer Perry echoed across the room
Matt signed his final document, sent it out and walked over. “What's up?”
“Having problems with an identification.” Perry said.
“What are you working on?”
“Same case.” Perry said. “I was just going over the final review of the contact web.”
“So what's the problem?”
“The problem is that I have the dock manager who we linked to the bursar. It looks like a clandestine meeting with someone in the park. At the same time, a large financial transaction was made to an unidentifiable person. He paid someone off.” Perry said.
“Can't you run the ID?” Matt asked.
“No, the individual was four steps removed from the rapist. Outside our warrant limitations. Standard procedure is three step.” Perry said. “So I requested a supplemental warrant to find out this contact. They denied it. Too far removed from principal to have relevance to our case.”
“Well nothing you can do but note it in the paperwork. I'll see what I can do to get the chief to look into it. The drug smugglers might have been paying off someone in the colonial authority to look the other way.” Matt said. “I'll talk to you about this later. It’s a good lead, we’ll follow up.”
“Okay, thanks,” Perry looked up. “I just never hit a wall before.”
“Join the club. Running into walls happens all the time on earth. Hell you’re not a proper detective until you found your way around a few of them. We’ll figure it out.” Matt took a step back toward his office when his palm started vibrating again.
“Can I borrow your palm reader?” he asked Officer Perry.
“Go ahead.” Perry pushed his chair back and clasped his hands behind his head.
Matt walked around the desk and waved his hand over the scanner. The screen, which made up most of its surface lit up. “It’s the chief; he wants me in his office when I have a minute.”
“Well that was a short lived promotion.”
“I don’t think I messed up that badly in a day.” Matt replied. “Don’t stress the wall. Think of it as an opportunity to earn our pay.”
“Dales?”
“Yeah?”
“You were good at your job, back on Earth, right?”
“I thought so; I guess the Chief thinks so to.”
“I want to be more than a file jockey. Can you teach me?”
“Getting close to me might not be a career maker. I’ll teach you what I can, but I’m not sure how much of it applies here. How about a trade. You teach me to comprehend the synapsis and I teach you how to get around walls.”
“Deal. Good luck with the chief.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
He’d just finished his paperwork; it was as good a time as any. He stepped into the elevator and pushed the chief’s floor. “You rang.” On arrival, he looked cautiously into his office.
“Yes, I did.” The chief said. “I hear you did pretty well for a first timer in the detective unit.”
“Thank you.”
“Close the door please.” The chief looked more intense than he'd seen him since their earth days. Matt closed the door and sat in the chair before the large wooden desk. “I don't want anyone to hear our conversation.”
“If you're trying to scare me,” Matt's heart braced for the shoe to drop. “It’s working.”
“Sorry, I'm not trying to. Look, I have a case I need you on, one that will require your special talent for hunches.” He leaned forward in his desk. “Can you be discreet? I mean can you give the team the benefit of your hunches without letting them know they come from your gut, or intuition, or where ever the hell they come from.”
“Are you still worried about the Trust?” Matt’s desire to laugh it off was eclipsed by the memory of the feelings he’d had the previous night. He could swear that he was being followed, and then of course there was the note. Someone was trying to warn him, or scare him. A cold chill went up his spine. “Yes. What's this about?”
“It’s complicated. You'll find out in the briefing. I will give you this heads up. We have a situation that requires real earth style detecting. You've got the training and the experience.” the chief slunk into his chair.
“What about my current case?” Matt asked.
“I was under the impression that the case was closed.” the chief said. “Is there any further information?”
“Yes, sir. Officer Perry found a large monetary transfer from the dock supervisor to an unknown individual. He was unable to pursue it because the warrant stipulated a level three contact web. He was refused an augmented warrant.” Matt said.
“I'm taking you off that case. I will look into it personally when I have the time. Matt what I need you for is much more important. Matt, do well on this and there will be few who will care what happened in Dallas, understand?” the chief said.
“Yes Sir.”
“Good,” The chief stood, whipped the sweat from his head and paced toward the room. “The others are waiting for us in the briefing room. Let's get to it.”
Matt trailed after.
Chapter 13
The small conference room was filled. Matt was unacquainted with many of the people in attendance. Chairs and tables were lined up facing a podium and large monitor screen, which filled the far wall. Officer Perry was occupying one of the chairs. Detective Zimmerman, he noticed was nowhere to be seen. He tried to suppress his delight. Matt took a chair as the chief walked to the front of the room and stood behind the podium. The atmosphere was tense. The air felt as though it would fragment if anyone spoke.
“Okay boys and girls.” the chief broke the silence. “Nothing, and I cannot say this strongly enough, nothing of what is brought up here is to leave this room. Most of what you are about to hear is classified ‘Top Secret’.” Vanderhaar shifted his weight. “Before today only a small number of people have been privy to certain facts. This case is going to be a tough one. I would very much like to give each of you the option to leave now before you learn something that might disturb you, but I won't do that. Each of you is here because each of you possesses certain skills. In short, I need each and every one of you too badly to let you off the hook.” He cleared his throat. “You will have daily meetings and I will review all data. This case has top priority. Until it is finished all others are to be put on the back burner because boys and girls.” He took two deep breaths and then said something extraordinary. “We have a serial killer on Sirius Primary.”
“That's impossible.” Perry muttered. “No crime goes unpunished, certainly not murder. The tracking system guarantees it.”
“Everything will be made clear, or at least as clear as is possible under the circumstances. I want no one to say anything in public or give any impression that the system has in anyway broken down. We must above all maintain or and protect belief in the system. Don’t fool your selves; it is that belief more than anything else that keeps the peace on this colony. It would be chaos if the people lost faith in it.” The chief continued, “In this case Perry, I'm afraid you are incorrect. We have tried to keep it quiet to avoid a general panic, but some person, as of yet unknown, has committed three separate murders.”
The gasp was audible.
“I know it’s a bit much to take in, so we'll start with the detective who has been on this case from the beginning. Step forward and fill us in Richards.
A tall, thin, dark-skinned woman sitting to the left of Matt stood and moved deliberately toward the podium. The chief surrendered his position and took a seat.
“I hardly know where to begin. I’m sorry but this will not be very pleasant. I haven’t had a sound night sleep in two weeks.” Detective Richards spoke loudly. “Fifteen days ago I was called in to investigate a particularly grisly murder. Carly Dominic, a supervisor in hazardous materials safety, was found hanging from the ceiling in the administration sector. Image.”
A gruesome picture formed on the large screen behind her. A blood-covered woman was hanging some three feet above the ground suspended by electrical wiring by her wrists in such a way as to hand displayed blocking the hallway. Even from a visual image, Matt could tell that the cords had been pulled from the ceiling. Tod's stomach started to turn on him. It had been some time since he had been privy to such a sight and he desperately wanted out of the room. Leaving, apart from the chief ban would hardly be discreet. Matt reached into his pocket and grabbed his anti-anxiety pills, popped one out of the plastic sheet and took it without water.
“The victim was found suspended from the ceiling by wires tied around her wrists and pulled tightly so that the body was displayed across the corridor. Death was caused by two puncture wounds in her upper torso. Two precise stab wounds punctured each lung. The victim bled to death while choking in her own blood.” Detective Richards used a laser pointer to draw circles on the image to designate the puncture wounds. “At first it was considered secondary, but the victim's palm chip was removed.”
“Why would someone go to all that trouble? It’s not like we couldn’t identify the victim.” Matt commented.
“The body was left in the center of a hall tween shifts, displayed for all to see when the shift ended. The killer wanted the body to be seen.” Richards elaborated. “They took out the chip to leave a message.”
“What was the message?” Perry asked. “How?”
“The chip was used to leave a message on the city’s public message system under the victim’s identity. The message read, “I'm sorry”.” Richards answered.
“I’m sorry?” Matt confirmed
“Just that.”
“This should be easy. Why not just run a contact web on the victim? It should be obvious who the perp is.” Officer Perry asked.
“And that would be the real problem.” The chief resumed his position behind the podium. “We can’t. During the murder, for a period of thirty six minutes, both the city tracking systems and the video imagers were offline.”
“How can that happen?” Matt though about what he and Officer Perry had discussed earlier about the systems failure to record. He meant to ask him more about it, but was distracted. That was why the chief had warned them, the populace assumed the system foolproof. If it became universal knowledge that the system had holes, it would undermine the general sense of security. In just the few days he had it to used it he found it to be an incredibly useful tool. A broken tracking system, however, shook his very, if only recently acquired faith. He could no longer rely on the best tool security had. He wondered how big a problem it was.
“Officer Perry you're reports often mention what you call glitches.” The chief said.
“Yes, but they are infrequent and only last a few seconds.” Perry objected.
“Now it's time to let you all in on the most tightly held secret on star system. These 'glitches' as you call them, are referred to as ‘Black-outs’ in official reports. It would be less confusing if we stick with that term.”
“You knew?” Perry asked.
“It has been a closely held secret since the founding of the colony.” Vanderhaar said. “I cannot stress strongly enough how important it is that this remain a secret.”
“So the whole system is a lie?” Matt wasn’t sure how to feel. A favored toy had been taken away, but he gained a system that needed someone like him, a person who trained to investigate without a safety net.
“How can the system fail to work?”
“We can predict the black-outs. Solar radiation spikes cause them. They occur when large solar flares on the surface of the smaller sun, Sirius. This radiation interferes with the signals emitted from palm implant signals, preventing the sensor network from picking them up unless the chips are within a few inches of the sensor. The digital images of the video systems are likewise compromised.”
“They can last a half an hour?” Perry continued.
“The longest one recorded was a little under three hours.” The chief said. “Luckily we have back up programs so that all security and financial systems continue and no one notices the outages. We’ve gotten good at predicting them in advance.”
“Apparently someone else can too.” Matt commented.
“That information is a closely guarded secret, very few outside this room know about it, and no-one outside the government has the equipment to track it.”
“It was initially thought to be a coincidence, an unlucky happenstance.” Richards continued.
“Initially?” Matt did not like where this was going.
“Yes, and we apprehended a suspect. A memory-impaired exposure victim by the name of Toby Kossman. He was discovered at the scene, unconscious. Unfortunately, since his memory centers were surgically removed, he has no recall of the events. A medical examination found a concussive wound on the back of his head consistent with blunt force trauma. We now believe that the killer struck him from behind to prevent him from saying what he knew or saw. Regrettably we will never know for sure.” Detective Richards said.
“Is there any way to retrieve a burnout’s memory?” Officer Perry asked. Vanderhaar glowered at the young officer’s use of the pejorative.
“No, to save them, all the memories of the mind rip must be deleted. The process, as we know prevents them from making new memories. Once they go to sleep, they reset. Everything he saw or knew since they woke is lost.”
“Dales. You and Rishards will get together after the briefing and go over the details. We need to be thorough on this. You can take a seat, Detective.” Richards nodded and left the podium. “Doctor Taylor had training as a criminal profiler before she came here. She has agreed to assist us on this case. If you'd please?” The chief motioned for the doctor to take the podium.
An elderly woman stood and ambled to the front. “Never thought I’d have to do this again. Okay. Thank you. First, it has long been acknowledged that most serial killers are male between the ages of twenty-four and thirty-six. Most are male and come from the mainstream of the dominant culture. That being said, there are significant variations to the rule to throw it straight out the window. Therefore, we will let the nature of the murders tell us about the killer. The first elements the spring out are the visibility of the crime scene. The killer wanted this to be seen by the citizens, either as a warning, or perhaps for the accolades.”
“What do you mean accolades?” Matt asked.
“Well, we live in the most secure place that mankind has ever created for ourselves and the killer was still able to do this. It’s a message, perhaps of defiance against that system, or as a warning to others. We also cannot rule out an organized crime element. She could have been killed as an example to others who owe money to the wrong crowd. But I think that it is more likely to be the former.”
“Why?” Officer Perry asked.
“The identification chip and the message.” The doctor continued. “A mob enforcer wouldn't apologize. It would dilute the message to those it intended to terrify.”
“Let's save the debate until we've heard the entire presentation.” The chief announced. “This is going to be a long session. Copies of the case files will be delivered to your accounts shortly. You'll be able to review them in detail. Next case.”
“Eight days ago we found another victim. An exploratory CAT crew found the support systems technician. The saw the body staked out outside the dome as they returned from a scouting expedition. The atmosphere had already corroded most of the body.”
“Don't serial killers keep the same MO?' Officer Perry asked.”
“Not always.” the doctor spoke out. “Although their method of killing was significantly different, there were some specific elements which linked the two murders.”
“Such as?” Matt asked.
“The palm chip was also cut out of the victim’s hand, and again the 'I'm sorry message' was left on the city message board.” The doctor continued.
“Not to mention that this murder also occurred during a black-out.” Detective Richards spoke out.
“That got to be the limiting factor. Someone who has access to the information about the black-outs must be involved, even if unwittingly.” Matt offered. “That would have to limit our suspect pool to a very select crowd.”
“That's what we thought, and it is a small list. Even smaller when you consider that the murderer would have to have precise knowledge of when the black-outs would occur and how long they'd last.” The chief said. “We're getting off subject continue detective.”
“As I said, the victim was staked out exposed in the acidic atmosphere. The only wounds we could still discern were the severe laceration of the palm and a small cracking on the back of the skull.” She continued. “The only clue we have is a protective suit. It was found in the airlock closest to the victim by the body. To perform this murder, the killer would have had to don the suit, activate the airlock and drag the body out into the atmosphere.”
“We should have gotten some DNA or hair samples from the suit.” Matt prodded.
“It was left in an airlock; the wiring on the hatch had been damaged, so the outer hatch wouldn't close. The acid destroyed the entire inner lining of the suit. Nevertheless, we know the size of the suit. It was fit to a six foot, one inch man.”
“Okay so we know how tall he is?” Offer Perry offered. “I can run a list on all colonists that height. It should reduce the suspects quite a bit.”
“You'd have to run it on anyone six foot one and smaller.” Richards continued. “The killer could have worn it baggie, or tight.”
“Okay well it should still help.” Perry continued.
The chief took the podium again. “We ran that check. It narrowed the list by twenty percent of the colony. We also limited it to a twostep contact web of those who knew about black-outs. Hell we also limited it to those who were out of dome at the time, then researched the locations of those every microsecond of the day since the first murder. We came up blank. That is why I called in Detective Dales. He has experience in real, hard, detective work. He's Earth trained, not dependent on the data banks and systems tracking system.”
“So, you are the man.” Offer Perry jostled Matt with his elbow.
“Pipe down.” The chief continued. “During the last couple black-outs we ran extra security patrols. Everyone on our short list was visually observed. And two days ago, it happened again.”
“This murder occurred in the canyon. We are unsure of the exact method of death here as we are still trying to locate most of the body.” This time there was no debate, just horrified stares. “The victim, Telly Sawyer, was an executive with SiCore. In this case, I first learned of the murder through the cities message board. The victim's palm chip had been used to place the 'I'm sorry' message. It wasn't until last night that we started to find pieces of the body. The victim had been chopped up into pieces and fed into the auto-fertilizers on the farms, where the pieces were scattered and buried by the machines.”
“I think I'm gonna be sick.” Perry said.
“Well, I'm going to eat only pre packed meals until they find the rest of the victim.” Richards said.
“This is when they called me in.” The doctor said. “We have three murders all linked together by the messages and the black-outs. It is my opinion that we have a serial killer who will not stop until we stop them. In a case like this, the first step is to identify how the killer chooses their victims. We also need to understand their motives.”
“With the divergent methods of killing, it is possible we are dealing with a murder gang, sharing knowledge and using the message as a way of counting their kills.” Matt asked.
“We haven't ruled that out.” The doctor admitted.
“How about cult behavior.” Matt asked. “The first two murders did look a bit Christian.”
“Excuse me?” Rishards voice was shrill.
“Look put up the first two murders on the screen.” Matt requested. Detective Richards complied and the two bodies appeared next to each other. “See, the victims look kinda like they've been crucified. Before I left Earth, there were protest against the palm chips. Religious groups have openly referred to them as the mark of the beast, a prelude to Armageddon.”
“Then it is possible that the killer sees themselves as an avenging angel killing the followers of the anti-Christ?” the doctor mused.
“Or maybe as the savior of their souls by freeing them from the evil of the 'mark'.” Matt said.
“By killing them?” Richards asked.
“The mind of religious zealot is not always rational. In the middle ages, the clergy believed they could save the souls of witches by purifying the bodies in fire.” Matt continued.
“Yes, but only the women who recanted were saved, and they were all tortured and killed regardless.” Richards added.
“There have been numerous accounts of serial killers following religious or even delusional beliefs.” the profiler added.
“Well then, what about the last victim, where they crucified also?” Officer Perry inquired.
“Hard to tell,” Detective Richards said. “It is possible the victim was ritually staked out and run over by an auto-tiller.”
“The sorry messages could mean they are not sorry for their actions, but sorry they were forced to go to such lengths.” The doctor added.