* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * SEX, LIES, AND NECROMANCY by Daniel Parsons and Brandi Weed * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Hello, Mr. Samuels." "Hello, Janie. I had not realized you would be under care here as well." "It wasn't really my idea." "It seldom is. You do not appear incapacitated." "No, just a little burn and a lot of debriefing. Luckily, as interrogators go, Prof. Samuels is an excellent programmer." Samuels smiled gently. "How can you express the truth without silence?" Janie smiled, glad to see Mr. Samuels was feeling well. "I always liked, 'If you meet the Buddha on the net, put him in your kill file.'" "Kill file?" "Um, never mind. How long do they want to keep you here, sir?" "I will stay until it is time to leave. Do you plan to stay long?" "No, I wasn't hurt too badly, but they want me to take the day off. Where are Angel and Ardrin?" "I believe they mentioned Scotland. They wish to pursue Finger." "I wish them luck." * * * "You know," Angel said, squirming uncomfortably in the seat of Ardrin's Range Rover, "I'm really getting rather tired of traipsing back and forth from London to Scotland. We really should try to get our base of operations changed to Inverness, or someplace." "It does seem like most of the action's up here. We should ask, so that if we ever get a new supervisor, we can get one up here." "Yes. We shouldn't place to much strain on dear Mr. Samuels while he's injured." "Where should we stop first, anyway?" Angel looked at the map. "Corpac is closest. We'll be looking for a Janet Andrin. Then we should go to Fort William, then to Garioc Castle, and I think that should make a day of it." "A castle?" "Yes. I understand it's a tourist attraction, but they rent out some small offices on the second floor. Our target is there. She works as an accountant." "Weird." Corpac was a fairly large city at the mouth of Loch Eil. Most of the city was devoted to large-scale commerce and merchant banking. The most desirable real estate in the city was located on the upper part of the Loch, and this is where Ms. Andrin made her home, a small, homey looking cottage with a Lincoln Continental parked inside a two- car garage. "Yep," Ardrin said, looking in the window. "Definitely a Finger chick. Let's check the house." "Do you have the warrant, Ardrin?" "I thought you had it." "Oh, dash it all..." Angel searched through her bag. "I'm usually not so disorganized. I don't know what's come over me. There it is." The front door was unlocked. The cottage was inexpensively furnished, though there was a very expensive sound system in the front room, with a big stack of CD's, most of them by groups neither of them had ever heard of. Angel went back to the bedroom, while Ardrin went to look in the garage. In the garage, Ardrin looked through the car. It was almost new, though there was a large stain on the back seat. There was no owners slip in the glove box, which was not exactly surprising, but also not really illegal. When Ardrin scanned the rafters, though, something caught his eye; a small box tucked inconspicuously into one corner of the roof. It was locked, so Ardrin pried it open with a crowbar from his Range Rover, and found almost 50,000 pounds in large notes. Ms. Andrin had a large collection of jewelry, more than Angel thought she could have bought with her income, but the real prize was a file box in the closet, with her financial records. She was busy paging through them, noting many, many inconsistencies, when Ardrin came in with his prize. "Bingo! What'd you find?" "Bank statements, registration receipts for only a few pieces of her jewelry, and nothing whatsoever for that Lincoln, nor the car she's probably driving now. She doesn't seen to own most of what's in this house. We should get all the serial numbers we can. And arrest Ms. Andrin on suspicion of receiving stolen property." "Great." "Now, the standard procedure is to call the local branch and arrange to have some officers come and assist us when we --" "I know the procedure. After that, what say we let her stew in detention overnight and do the interrogation tomorrow? This afternoon we should go out to that castle and get the other one." At the suggestion that they should deliberately neglect a suspect to help break her down, Angel leveled a glare at Ardrin. "Ardrin, is we are not, under any circumstances, going to do such a thing. It is not only against procedure, but it may also happen to be illegal." Ardrin blinked. "We're not doing anything illegal. We're just... being efficient. We should arrest both of the suspects, and then we can, uh, conduct the interviews as long as we want. That way, we got a better chance of getting both of them before they run." Angel stared coldly at Ardrin. "Strange. For a moment, I was quite sure you were suggesting something else entirely. Suspects are not to be abused or maltreated, under any circumstances." "Look, I wasn't gonna mistreat 'em or anything." "Of course not. However, I like your suggestion that we proceed to Garioc this afternoon. If Ms. Height is any indication, the sooner we find as many of Finger's harem, the better. And hope that Ms. Andrin comes home for lunch." She did, and was met by two police cars. At first, she was too angry to listen to them telling her she was under arrest, and when they did so, she made so much noise and fuss they had to call a truck to take her in. But eventually she was put away, and Angel and Ardrin bundled back into Ardrin's Rover and headed out again. Garioc Castle had to be the only castle equipped with hot water, electricity, and parking in Scotland. The tour guide met them at the outer gate, and informed them that the castle was one of the finest examples of Early Renaissance fortifications, commissioned by king James II of Scotland to take advantage of the close proximity of the river Dee and the nearby copses (they had been cut down sometime in the late 18th century) for his summer palace in the Scottish midlands, though the king never actually dwelt there due to his untimely ascension to the throne of England in... "Thank you, please, but we're not here for the tour." Angel showed the guide her badge. "We wanted to visit Bolten & Brown's accounting office." The tour guide looked confused. "Huh?" "Bolten & Brown, Accounting. We wish to see Ms. Rebecca McEwey, who works there, and speak with her." The tour guide continued to stare, blinking stupidly. Ardrin waved his hand in front of his face. "Hello there!" "Uh... you mean, the offices on the second floor?" "Yes. The offices on the second floor. One of them is an accounting office. Bolten & Brown. There's a woman who works there. Her name is Rebecca McEwey. We wish to see her." The tour guide scratched his head. Angel looked at Ardrin. "I don't think I'm quite getting this through to him." Ardrin nodded. "Look, we'll show ourselves up. Let's go." They walked in, past the tour guide, who hardly seemed to realize they were gone until they had waltzed across the courtyard, past a tour group, and were entering the doors of the inner keep. "Wait!" Quickly, Angel and Ardrin hurried across the front hall and into the great hall. Ardrin glanced back at the noise the guide was making. "Tell you what. Why don't you go up and see if she's here, and I'll try to do something with him?" "That sounds like a very good idea. If I see her, I'll let you know." Ardrin turned, and confronted the tour guide. "Hey, has anyone ever told you you're stupid?" "Huh?" "Never mind. Trick question. Anyway..." Angel jumped up one set of stairs, two at a time, and turned left into a corridor. This section had modern amenities, like florescent lighting and normal doors with small signs on them. As she rounded a corner, a man stepped out of a door not 5 meters from her. He was very tall, and very broad, had blonde hair trimmed close, was wearing a pair of sunglasses indoors, and carrying a large briefcase. Angel quickly snapped back, praying he hadn't seen her, and yanked her gun from its holster. Cautiously peeking around the corner, she saw he was calmly walking away, unhurried. She slipped into the hall after him, quietly sliding along one wall and wishing she could warn Ardrin before he got to the other set of stairs... Then, just as she reached the door he had come out of, it opened and someone walked into her. Angel was so tense she actually shrieked and her gun went off, before she fell to the ground with someone on top of her. Finger glanced back, and ran down the hall to the other set of stairs. Ardrin looked up when he heard the gun go off, and saw him just coming to the top of the stairs. Shoving the tour guide out the door, Ardrin drew his gun and leveled it at Finger as he came rushing down the stairs, his hand in his case. "All right, freeze!" Finger slowly came to a stop about two thirds of the way down the stairs, his hand still in his case and a cocky grin on his face. "No sudden moves, mister." Ardrin ordered. "Get your hand out of the briefcase. Very slowly." Finger grinned, and slowly brought his hand out. Dangling from one finger was a cylinder about the size of a can of soup, with a lever on one side held in place with a pin stuck in the top. Ardrin blinked, thinking this looked very much like a grenade. Finger shook his hand just a bit, and the can slid off the pin and bounced down the steps towards Ardrin. "Catch." Ardrin turned and tried to run behind the other stairwell, but there wasn't nearly enough time. Finger knelt with his head stuck in his briefcase, and his hands over his ears, as the grenade went off with a huge KA-BOOOM!! Angel, who had taken this long to disentangle herself from the pretty redhead who had fallen on her, saw a harsh light flash up into the corridor, like a magnesium flare. She struggled to her feet and ran to the top of the stairs. Ardrin was rolling around on the floor screaming in agony, trying to push his hands over his eyes and his ears at the same time. Finger was just running out the door, closing his briefcase. Papers swirled out behind him. She ran down the stairs, and rushed to Ardrin. He wouldn't stop screaming, but he didn't seem injured. The tour guide looked in the door, and stared about in confusion. "You! Call the police!" "Huh?" Angel ground her teeth, then stomped across the hall and grabbed him by his lapels. "CALL THE POLICE!!" "The police? Oh, yeah..." He ran off. Angel ran back to Ardrin. He was just moaning now. "Ardrin, what happened?" Ardrin didn't respond. He had his hands ground tight over his ears, and his eyes were shut tight, and he made no sign that he'd even heard Angel. Daniel Parsons Brandi Weed Questions or comments to bweed@muddcs.claremont.edu Available for ftp from ftp.cs.pdx.edu, in /pub/frp/stories/SLN