CHAPTER 023
UTILITY CORRIDOR TEAM
I leaned against the jamb of Michelle’s door, taking a moment to savor the aroma of fresh coffee curling up from beneath it. I recalled it being a blend from the Lunar Highlands favored by Gabriella Denaro, no doubt chosen for the Express by Mr. Denaro for the same reason. As bizarre as their relationship might seem to outsiders, myself included, there were so many little symbols of thoughtfulness and consideration between the two of them that it was difficult not to see the beauty in it.
Hazel had never been much for coffee. She’d gotten big on herbal teas while pregnant with Tracy and I never heard the end of it. I tried to explain to her the ridiculousness of sitting through a stakeout with anything other than a thermos of the hot black stuff, but she just didn’t get it. We ended up talking past each other like we always did. Maybe if I had tried the tea, things would have wound up differently. Maybe I would have liked tea. Or stayed closer to Earth. They never would have needed to move to Titan, never would have boarded that shuttle. Now I was stuck in a hall with no tea, no coffee, and no family.
My mind was wandering.
“I can hear you breathing out there, you know. Would you like to come in?”
Did I forget to knock? “Yes, please.”
I propped myself up against the wall just inside the door, knowing better than to tempt myself with the comforts of Michelle’s furniture.
“You look like hell, Max. Can I fix you a cup of coffee?”
“Tamsworth is dead.”
“Archie, from Madison Defense? But we just saw him at dinner.”
“And I had drinks with him after, I know. We discussed this.” At this point I was repeating things out loud for my own sake. The line between memory and imagination was growing dangerously thin.
“What happened?”
“He was strangled. After I spoke with Fox about the problem with the security images, I had the bright idea to tap into Tamsworth’s encyclopedic knowledge of who’s who on this rig to figure out who didn’t belong. When he didn’t answer his door, I got Fox to let us in. We found him hidden under a pile of his clothing.”
“That’s awful. Emilia always spoke highly of him.” Michelle, with the steadfast resolve of a professional journalist, took a moment to let the news sink in. “You said that you think there’s an impostor on board?”
It was interesting that she’d phrased the question the exact same way that Fox had when I’d broached the subject. Then again, there were only so many ways to say the same thing.
“I think if there was, and they were trying to cover their tracks, eliminating the person most likely to ID them would be a smart move. Otherwise, I don’t see the point. If Archie had bad blood with anyone on board, trust me, I would have heard about it.”
“What about Wilder?” Michelle shuffled through the papers on her table. “You saw how he looked at Archie after he shut him up in front of everyone.”
“Wilder’s still passed out in the brig. I saw him myself.” Thinking about the cocksure CEO wrapped up in a pink blanket behind the viewing screen like some kind of low-grade zoo exhibit would normally have brought me a great deal of joy. For now, it offered little more than a sliver of respite from the ceaseless barrage of worry.
“Then who? Who else makes sense?”
“That depends on who stands to benefit from the deaths of Matteo Russo and Archie Tamsworth. I think at this point it’s safe to say that Matteo stole the cyberware-dissolving prototype from the Stellar Engines warehouse. As someone constantly coming and going from Denaro properties no questions asked, he had the means and the opportunity. The burn marks on his body and the missing pheromone amplifiers would suggest it was turned against him. Now we just need to understand his motive for bringing the prototype on the Express to begin with.”
“It had to have been to sell it. Matty was sweet, but started to become obsessed with the idea of striking out on his own. I wasn’t in any position to give him advice, especially when it bordered on meddling in the affairs that had already gotten my sister killed, but I tried to talk him out of it.”
“Talk him out of what, exactly?”
Michelle sighed. “I knew he was messing around with something dangerous. He thought he was so clever, hinting at coming up with the perfect plan to make sure neither one of us would have to work again.”
“Would you say that he considered you an accomplice in this plan?”
“Me? Work with him?” Michelle smiled sadly. “No, Matty knew better than that. No matter how often I told him that things with us would never be more than casual, he insisted that one day he was going to sweep me off my feet. I think part of that plan depended on selling the prototype to Wilder.”
“You knew about his meeting with Wilder, too?”
“I do now.” As disappointing as it was to have been tricked into divulging information that easily, I had nothing to hide from Michelle. At this point, we were all working together to survive. “Again,” she continued, “I had my suspicions. When I met up with him after that awkward welcome to-do, he was pissed off at someone. He dropped a couple of hints about who, that were probably less cryptic than he imagined. You’ve just confirmed it.”
“It didn’t make any sense to me why Matteo would think he had a meeting with Wilder. I talked to Wilder. He’s not capable of faking that sort of antipathy. You’d think if Matteo had gone to the trouble of getting him onto the guest list, Wilder would have at least treated him with a modicum of decency.”
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“But wouldn’t that have blown their cover? Perhaps they thought it would be better to conceal their arrangement if everyone assumed they were sworn enemies.”
“Including the person Wilder hired to watch his back? He specifically instructed me to keep an eye on him. There is no reason he wouldn’t have told me the plan.”
“Unless he knew that you were really working for Frankie Denaro.” Between her and Fox, I couldn’t remember who I’d told what. It didn’t matter really if she’d come to that conclusion on her own. She was right.
“No, there’s no way Wilder could have resisted bringing that up at dinner. He’d have taken any excuse to stir the shit.”
“He certainly seems the type.” Michelle poured herself a fresh cup of coffee.
Once again, I cycled through the facts as I knew them. “So Matteo gets himself put in charge of security. He manages to get Wilder on the guest list, maybe using a hacker trick like the one that fucked up the passenger photos.”
“Hang on, he did what?”
“Sorry, I’ll get back to it, I promise. Did I mention I spoke with Fox?”
“Sort of. Are you sure I can’t get you any coffee?”
I nodded. At this point I’d take anything that could keep me awake just a little longer. The end felt so close. Michelle handed me a hot mug and I resisted the urge to dunk my head in it. I scorched the tip of my tongue with the first taste. When I blew on the mug, I noticed the faint hint of a red wine stain inside its lip from my visit earlier. Was that still tonight?
“Okay, where were we?” I heard myself ask. “Oh right, how Matteo got Wilder on board. Maybe it isn’t the how that’s important, but the why. If Matteo hated Wilder half as much as I think he did, why would he go through the trouble? And why would Wilder accept only to blow him off once he got here?”
“Maybe they were both right,” Michelle spitballed. “Matteo could have had nothing to do with getting Wilder on board.”
“And Wilder could have had no idea that Matteo expected to meet with him,” I finished. “This whole time I’ve been assuming that the two incidents were related.”
“They’re not? I was just playing devil’s advocate.”
“No, they very much are. Only not in the way I was thinking.” Energized from the coffee, I peeled myself away from the wall and paced across the room to jog my brain. “An unknown someone convinced Matteo to steal the prototype and bring it on board, ostensibly to sell it. An unknown someone also hacked into the passenger registry to add Vance Wilder to the guest list. Common sense would dictate that those two entries would fill in the blanks for one another. Wilder for the former, Matteo for the latter.”
“And uncommon sense?” Michelle’s impatience showed through her attempt at encouragement.
“A third party. Like I said before, someone who wasn’t in it for the money, only the chaos. Someone who stood to benefit from embarrassing Frankie Denaro and Vance Wilder, two people they felt had wronged them. Someone who also had a personal grudge against your sister, and a broader one against the tech industry as a whole. This person took one look at the Lunar Express and saw their opportunity to settle all these scores at once, using a very specific set of skills and temperament that got them into trouble in the first place.”
“You don’t think it was—”
“Ted Burke. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Michelle went pale to the point. The light reflecting off her necklace seemed to dim in kind.
“But no one’s seen him since the brouhaha with the prototype broke. The authorities can’t find him, my colleagues on the crime beat can’t get a reliable lead. He’s a ghost. You really think he would throw all that away at the chance for revenge?”
“I don’t think he could resist.” I took a long swing of the steaming coffee, feeling nigh invulnerable. “As far as he’s concerned, it’s the perfect crime. He screws Wilder over by making Matteo think that’s who he’s dealing with. That way if the plan blows up and nothing happens, the fingers are still pointing squarely at Wilder for trying to instigate. If things do go through, Wilder is not only on the hook for soliciting the theft but is also a sitting duck for Burke up here once he has his hands on the prototype. Denaro looks like an asshole because he can’t keep his business or his luxury space elevator safe. Matteo and Tamsworth wind up as collateral damage along the way.”
“And the other passengers?”
I caught myself before saying what was on my mind. Captain Fox had it right. There was no benefit to inciting panic unnecessarily.
“I think it’s impossible to predict what Burke has in mind. We’d be better off not waiting around to find out.”
“So what do you recommend?”
“Fox and I came up with a plan to rally the crew and get everyone working together to flush out any bad actors. He’s in charge of the flight crew, the security team, and the domestic staff. I’ve got the kitchens.”
“I’m coming with you.” Michelle, still clad in her pajamas, had discarded her mug and was already pulling on a pair of sensible gym shoes.
It wasn’t like I could leave her there. Burke had already gotten to Matteo and Tamsworth. If he was concerned about exposure, a witness to his crimes that also happened to be a popular journalist constituted an undeniable threat.
“I figured you would. We have one stop to make first.”
I flicked the light in my room on. G and CAT groaned in unison from where they’d settled on the chaise lounge. From the looks of things, they’d helped themselves to the contents of the honor bar before turning in for the night. I looked past their discarded wrappers to the heavy wardrobe I’d dragged in front of the false window. It remained where I’d left it. As the sleepers roused themselves with a round of stretching, I lowered my shoulder into the wardrobe and shoved it back to its original place.
“What are you doing?” a drowsy G asked. “Who’s she?”
“Friend?”
“Yes, Michelle is a friend. She knew Matteo too.” Michelle, having received the best summary of the situation that I could muster on the quick walk over from her room, offered a shy wave. “She’s helping me get to the bottom of what happened. And until we do that, I’m going to need you to take CAT somewhere safe to hide out. Is your remote control charged up and ready?”
G produced the device from beneath the sheets and gave it a shake. The antennas unfurled and the screen blinked to life. “Yeah. But I thought you said no more tunnels.”
“Things change. Don’t worry, I’ll work it out with your dad once the comms service comes back online.”
With a final heave of the wardrobe, I cleared the way for the secret door to open.
“Your comex isn’t working?” G asked.
“Not since last night.”
She looked at CAT. “That explains why he didn’t answer when we asked about dinner.” She turned to me. “I asked permission first, I swear.”
I crossed the room and helped G into her backpack. She stuffed her arms through the straps with a bitterness borne of interrupted rest. “I believe you,” I told her. “And I appreciate you doing the responsible thing. That’s why I am putting you in charge of the utility corridor team.”
CAT emitted a disappointed whine.
“Sorry, bud, she knows the terrain better. Maybe next time.” I knelt down to scratch him and whispered in his ear. “You’re really in charge, but try to keep it a secret, huh?”
“Secret?”
I straightened up with considerable effort. “I guess we are still working on that one. Alright, G, CAT, you’ve got your marching orders. I’m not sure when the comms net will be back up so we will need to organize a rendezvous.”
“Gimme your comex,” G demanded, extending a hand.
Without thinking, I handed it over. She scanned it with her handheld and passed it back.
“We’ll be in touch.” Her mask reappeared at a gesture. She keyed a few inputs into her device and the latch on the false door released. I held it open as G led the way into the utility corridors, with CAT following closely behind. When they’d made it a reasonable distance, I closed the panel behind them.
“That was not exactly what I was picturing from what you told me,” Michelle admitted. “But now that I’ve seen it, it makes sense in a way.”
“That makes one of us.”