Brad awoke to the alarm he had set the night before. Accounting for a desire to get a full eight hours’ sleep and the fact that he finally got to bed at about 12:30, he set the alarm for 9:00 AM. Not that the time made much of a difference in terms of natural light, which followed its own schedule.
Instead, to compensate, the colony had its own “faux sun”, a series of bright lights at the ceiling of the dome that mimicked the light of the sun as seen on Earth during different parts of the day. So from the perspective of an average citizen, 9 AM on the colony was similar to 9 AM on earth in terms of light.
Brad quickly dressed and sent a message to Elaine asking when the best time to visit the detention center would be before heading out.
Man I wish I got a place with a kitchen.
This line of thinking was more or less part of Brad’s morning routine. While he was okay with giving a little money to Elaine to compensate for her cooking so many of his meals, the lack of independence really got to him.
That and food from diners and convenience stores was really expensive for what you were getting. That said, given the case he’d just accepted, Brad felt fine indulging just a little bit.
Brad ducked into a local favorite of his, a small diner called Jimbo’s, named for the owner, James Bourne, a name made even more hilarious by the Jimbo’s own love for spy films from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.
Jimbo’s themed itself after Earth’s diners from the 1950’s and 1960’s. The type that looked like repurposed train cars that were known for the basic American breakfast of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and coffee. In this case, substitute the proteins for a similar synthetic variation that was cheaper and more easily acquired, and while they were advertised as being indistinguishable from the real thing in terms of taste and texture, that was an obvious lie. Someone who had had both would know for sure that something was…off, even if they couldn’t place what it was.
But whatever, food is food.
So Brad had the usual. “Bacon”, three “eggs”, a short stack of pancakes, hash browns (which of course were rehydrated), and a cup of coffee, which was somehow actually real coffee.
That Brad unfortunately would “ruin” in the eyes of Jimbo himself by adding too much milk (well…”milk”) and sweetener, but Brad wasn’t drinking it for the taste, which he actually couldn’t stand, but he thought for sure he’d need the caffeine boost.
While Brad was eating his breakfast, the response from Elaine came to his communicator.
“Come anytime between 1000 and 1200.”
Small window. Does she really need to write everything in military time? Brad checked the time. 9:35 AM. He could probably make it to the detention center by 10:00 if he left as soon as he finished his breakfast and there was no interruption on the mag rail ride he would have to take. He probably wouldn’t be able to get more than a half-hour or so to talk to Cortez, but the more time possible, the better.
—
Elaine knew what she was doing was going to cause some huge problems for her later on, but considering the lengths the department was going to bury Cortez’s arrest, she had to keep reminding herself that it was worth the risk.
Once she arrived at the police station at 0900 she knew she had precious little time to set up a meeting between Asher and Cortez. She quickly set to work “reevaluating” the schedule of duties of those working under her supervision.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
I’ll just put myself over the detention area for today. Probably looks bad for me to take the job everyone else considers so cushy, but this is one of those few times when I need something done perfectly to my own standards.
Easy part done. At this point, the message she was expecting from Asher came, right on cue.
“When would be the best time to swing by?”
Let’s figure that out.
Surprisingly, the request to have a stranger meet with Cortez wasn’t met with enthusiasm from the current shift lead at the detention center, a younger man named Charlie Ray.
“You of all people know how sensitive this case is, Seol. We can’t have too many people in and out of here.” Elaine could tell the young man had recited the line many times. She could remember feeling much the same way when she first started. Elaine almost felt sorry for the kid, especially with what she was about to pull.
“Relax, Ray, I’m the superior officer here. If anything goes wrong, I’m the one who’s responsible.” Elaine winked.
Ray stammered, “O…okay, sure. Visiting hours are 1000 to 1200, so if he’s able to make it in so quickly, that’s when he can. It’s your funeral, I guess.”
At least he’s kind of cute when he tries to play off his insecurity.
“Thanks Ray. You have no idea how helpful this is going to be.”
At least that part was true…
—
As Brad waited to arrive at the police station, a thought suddenly occurred to him. He quickly reached into his jacket pocket for his communication device and fired off a quick message to Elaine.
“Does Cortez have any tells?”
Not long before his communicator buzzed. New message.
“Tells?”
“C’mon, like in Poker? Tell me you’ve played cards with the girl!”
Some time passed, and then…
“I dunno. I guess she doesn’t make eye contact well when she’s nervous.”
“How did she become a police officer if she doesn’t make eye contact when she’s nervous?!”
Some more time passed, and then…
“Does it matter? I’ve never been able to get her to join us for card night. This is the best I’ve got!”
I guess it’s better than nothing, I guess, though I’ll have to keep my eye out for anything else that sticks out.
—
Elaine was waiting for Brad near the booth he’d be using to speak with Cortez. It wasn’t long after Brad arrived that Officer Cortez was led to her side of the glass separator.
Jill Cortez née Khalil, age 24, had the timid appearance and attitude of one who definitely shouldn’t be behind bars.
Either she’s completely innocent or she’s a really good method actor.
“Hey Cortez,” Elaine began. “I just wanted to ask you a few more questions.”
“Is he a cop?”
“Have you seen him around the station?”
“No, but…well,” she looked away.
Brad took note of this. “Relax, I’m a private investigator. I’m not affiliated with the police, and most of them don’t seem to like me that much as it is.”
“Why are you here, then? The case against me is pretty airtight, isn’t it?” Her tone of voice communicated clearly a feeling of defeat.
“Yeah, Elaine filled me in, but there were a few things that kind of left me confused so I wanted some clarity. I guess I’ll start with the obvious.” Brad leaned forward, almost to emphasize his question. “Did you do it?”
Elaine fired a shocked look in Brad’s direction. Cortez, conversely, just looked confused.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Did. You. Do. It? I can’t really do much for you if you’re actually guilty.”
“You say that like you’re a lawyer.”
Brad leaned back a bit in surprise at the statement. “Don’t get it twisted. It’s more of a time and energy thing. Elaine here is pretty convinced you didn’t do it, which is why I’m here at all.”
Elaine glowered a bit before nodding. “It’s true. I don’t think you did it.”
Tears welled up in Jill’s eyes, as she squeaked, “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t do it?”
Brad let the question hang in the air before finally saying, “Okay, this is something I can work with.”