Work. Rest. Repeat.: A Post-Apocalyptic Detective Novel Page 9

  “Does it ever stop?” Ely asked.

  “No, not really, but some days, some times, you can see an errant beam of sunlight reaching down through the clouds. Believe me, this is better than it was before. Then we just looked out on a desert of blistering heat. No vegetation, no buildings, nothing but dust and dunes. Now that was truly depressing. Not that it wouldn’t be nice to see the sun properly once in a while, but the world is the way it is. Now, come on, let’s go and sit down, and you can tell me about these murders. I hear you’ve arrested someone.”

  “I had to let him go.”

  “Oh?” Arthur ushered Ely into his small unit. “Wasn’t he guilty?”

  “He was guilty of something, just not anything to do with the murder.”

  “So why did you interrogate him? I mean, I saw it on the news. I think everyone must know about it by now.”

  “It’s the Chancellor. She… I don’t know. She threatened to reassign me. She’s making out the murders are my fault.”

  “You see, lad, this is why I said you should have come to me. You told me you wanted a career in politics, and for that you’ve got to know how to use people. Now, sit down.”

  Arthur pointed to the only chair. The unit was six feet and six inches wide, ten feet deep, and eight feet high, not much bigger than the room Ely himself occupied. It was identical to the other units on the level except in two respects. The first was that, being at the end, it was six inches wider than the rest. The other was that there was no sleep-pod. Instead there was a simple cot with a plastic frame. On top of it was a single, threadbare blanket. Next to the cot was a small table. On top was a heating element on which something in a saucepan bubbled away.

  “I had to give up the sleep-pod so I’d have the electricity to run my little stove,” Arthur said. “Well, the council asked for a volunteer. Said they needed to know if any of the food we grow is actually edible. Of course, no one else up here wanted to take the risk of eating it. Not that any of ‘em would know what proper food is meant to taste like. So I did what they asked, I volunteered. It was my duty, wasn’t it? And they gave me the stove and took away the pod. They say there’s not enough energy to run both. Not that I mind. Not really. I don’t sleep much these days, but they could have told me up front that was going to be the deal. That’s government for you. Never changes. Did you know that these Towers were built to house politicians?”

  “Were they?” Ely hadn’t known that.

  “Back during the collapse. Or before the collapse, in that time when they knew it was coming, but after they’d given up trying to do anything about it. They picked this spot for the Towers because it was out of the way. It was the most remote place they controlled. It was those same politicians who started building the colony ships. If you ask me, I think they’d given up on the Earth and all of us inhabitants by then. They’d decided it was too much effort trying to make things right, and thought they could start again somewhere new. They tried to keep it secret, but you can’t keep those kinds of secrets, not forever. People found out, and that’s when the end began. I mean, why should anyone work when the effort is going to save others but not themselves?”

  “You do it for the City,” Ely said. “For the good of the people.”

  “That’s just words, and they’re easy to say. It’s different when you’re actually faced with the choice. After the Great Disaster, it was years before it was safe enough for any of us to venture outside, and it took more years to repair the launch site and salvage what was left of the ships. Sixty long, hard years just to get three ships nearly finished. And in that time we’ve become cut off from one another. Each Tower’s become a City in its own right. They’ve each become a community, and we’ve become stronger because of it. Well, adversity can do that, I suppose.”

  “I know this,” Ely said. “Or some of it. But what has it got to do with the murders?”

  “Just listen. When it came to it, the government, all those politicians, they didn’t make it here. Or if they did, they stayed outside. After what they’d done, we weren’t going to let them in. We sealed off the Towers, just like they were planning to. And we did it just in time, just before that final attack. Everyone outside died. Everyone up here survived. Less than one percent of one percent of our species.”

  “And the ghosts.”

  “What?”

  “You know, the people who got into the tunnels between the Towers. Maybe that’s what happened to all those politicians.”

  “Lad, those are just stories. Legends. They’re not real. If they were, do you not think we’d have seen them?”

  “No, I know, Sorry, I was just trying to… it doesn’t matter. But what’s the history of the Towers got to do with the murders.”

  “Directly? Nothing. Indirectly, well, we’ll see. Now, these murders, tell me what you know.”

  “Well, the victims were the Greenes. They were a married couple who worked—”

  “Yes, yes. The parents were killed, the children weren’t. You pulled a suspect out of the Assembly just before shift-change. Tell me something I can’t get from the news. What made you suspect that man you interrogated?”

  “The night-side door to Unit 6-4-17 opened at three a.m. It closed again just over three and a half minutes later. At around the same time the suspect, Glastonbury, went off-net. It’s too big a coincidence for that to have happened at the same time as the Greenes were murdered.”

  “And what evidence do you have that the murders took place at three o’clock?” Arthur asked.

  “I told you. That was when the door opened.”

  “Right, right. And what did I teach you? What does the door opening actually prove?”

  Ely hesitated. “Okay, that just proves that’s when the door opened, and alright, I can’t be sure that was when the murders took place. But again, if it wasn’t, that would be a big coincidence.”

  “And yet, you tell me this other coincidence, this one with Glastonbury being off-net, that that had nothing to do with the murder?”

  “Ah, yes. I see what you mean. You’re saying two coincidences in one night can’t be any coincidence at all.”

  “Well, maybe,” Arthur said. “We’ll come back to that. What happened to the bodies?”

  “They were sent to Tower-Thirteen for autopsy.”

  “Fine. Good. Well, that should confirm the time of death for you. Of course, that will take time, won’t it? Now as I understand it, no alarms were sounded when the couple died.”

  “That’s right,” Ely replied.

  “Well, since they clearly did die, that means that someone was able to tamper with the pods.”

  “Yes, I’ve got Vox looking into it.”

  “Vox?”

  “Vauxhall, the Controller.”

  “Ah, right. And do you trust her?” Arthur asked.

  “I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t.”

  “Come on, Ely. You just agreed someone was able to tamper with the system. She’s the most likely suspect isn’t she?”

  “Not really. I know that she has the ability to do it, but she’s also got the ability to cover her own tracks. She wouldn’t have arranged it so the only evidence pointed directly at herself.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Ely said, firmly, “I am. She’s checking the logs, working out how and when the system was hacked. Maybe that’ll show us whether the door-logs were changed.”

  “Well, I expect she won’t be able to find that out quickly. But it’s important you know whom you can trust. What else do you know?”

  “There were no fingerprints.” Ely didn’t want to admit he’d forgotten to look for them. “But two weeks ago, someone went into that unit and moved the camera. They turned it to face the wall, and they did it whilst the occupants were asleep. That had to have been done by the killer.”

  “Does it?” Arthur asked.

  “What were you saying about coincidences?”

  “After nearly sixty years with nothing mo
re serious than a few fights, there are two sets of crimes discovered on the same night. Of course they’re connected. I’m asking whether it was done by the same person. Was the killer acting alone? What else have you found out? What about the weapon?”

  “Their deaths must have happened so quickly that it had to have been a large, heavy blade, something with a handle at each end, pressed down on the neck with a sort of chopping motion. Where are you going to hide that in clothes like these?” He plucked at his jumpsuit. “I can’t see how the killer could have gone wandering the halls with it, so I think it was disposed of in the chute.”

  “Hmm,” Arthur said with a sigh. “Then look at it the other way. If they carried it into the room, then they could have got it out of there, right? So if you want to know where it’s hidden now, start thinking about where it was hidden before the crime.”

  “You don’t think it was destroyed?”

  “I can’t think of any reason why it would be. So there, that’s a part of the puzzle that you can solve. Find where the weapon could be hidden, find out who went there. But that’ll take time as well. Is there anything else? Any other evidence.”

  “Well, it’s more the absence of evidence. No one appears on the cameras. Vox has gone through the schematics and thinks it’s possible, if it’s timed correctly, for someone to walk down the corridor without being recorded.”

  “And how much time did she spend doing that?”

  “What? I don’t know.”

  “See, it occurs to me, that you’re being led to think in a particular way here. You’ve got to distinguish between evidence and conjecture. You say that this suspect, Glastonbury, had nothing to do with the murder?”

  “He was just stealing hot water.”

  “He was doing what?” Arthur exclaimed.

  “Sorry,” Ely said, realising how dismissive he’d sounded of the crime. “He’d found that the system recording hot water usage resets itself between three a.m. and half past every day. That’s why he woke up. He was off-net because he was in the shower.”

  “Ah. Wasting energy like that is a serious crime regardless of anything else that’s going on. I mean, here I am, giving up a good night’s sleep so I can stew up leaves and roots on that stove, and here’s someone stealing energy just for his own pleasure.”

  “Not just him, there are forty-six others doing the same. It’s been going on for a year, and there’s not a single mention of it on the other-net. They managed to spread the word amongst themselves without me ever knowing.”

  “That is very serious. So, who told Glastonbury about this?”

  “I… I didn’t ask.”

  “Oh, come on lad, that’s not how I taught you.”

  “But does it have anything to do with the murders?”

  “Think for a moment. Just sit and think, and then you tell me.”

  Ely thought.

  “Alright,” he said. “No matter what time the murders took place, there was no way of covering up the fact that they had happened.”

  “No.”

  “I mean, even if you got rid of the bodies, there would be two missing people, right?”

  “So?”

  “So if they did happen at three a.m., then why pick that time? And if it wasn’t at three a.m., but the killer had a way of altering the logs, then why pick that time to have me investigate?” And then Ely understood where the older man had been leading him. “Either the killer knew about the theft of this water and chose that time on purpose, or at least one of those forty-seven is involved and chose that time to ensure there were so many suspects I couldn’t possibly interview them all.”

  “And that, my lad, sounds more right than you know,” Arthur said.

  “But why?” Ely asked, not really listening to the old man’s comment. “I mean why bother going to all that trouble? The autopsy results will come back, and no matter whether they alter or delete some of the camera footage, they can’t get rid of all of it. It’s just a matter of time before I work out the truth.”

  “Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. That’s the answer to all these riddles.”

  Ely looked at him blankly.

  “Time,” Arthur said. “That’s what this is all about. Or timing.”

  “Timing? Timing of what? Wait, are you saying this has something to do with the election?”

  “Oh no,” Arthur said, glancing over at Ely’s helmet. “I’m not suggesting anything of the kind. Come on, why don’t we go for a stroll? There was a kink in the irrigation system yesterday. Almost flooded the radishes. Leave your helmet though. You keep shifting it around.”

  Leaving his helmet, with its camera and microphones, by Arthur’s cot, Ely followed the old man out of the small chamber, towards the allotments.

  “So who do you think—” Ely began.

  “In there,” Arthur said loudly, pointing to an allotment where two other retirees were dismantling the opaque panelling surrounding it, “are the radishes. Of course, we can’t stimulate the gravity on Mars, but otherwise we’ve got the conditions just like they’ll be ten years after the completion of the first stage of terraforming. Not that nutritious, radishes, but if we can get the principles right for them, then we can apply it to potatoes and carrots. That’s the theory. Not my theory, I hasten to add, and not one I agree with.”

  “Arthur, this killer—” Ely tried again.

  “Not here, come on.” Arthur led Ely past another group working on a different allotment. “Peppery things, radishes. Of course, you won’t ever have tried one. You must come up when they’re ready. If they’re ever ready. The trouble is, that without insects to churn and digest it, we’ve been having difficulty getting the soil right. Hence the new irrigation system, which breaks down half the time. I said we should try and grow some worms. I was turned down. They said that it would work or it wouldn’t, whether here or on Mars. I said it would work better if we’d practiced it first. They just refused, so I doubt we’ll ever get any radishes. Shame that.” Arthur looked around. They were near the windows with no other retirees close by.

  “Now,” he said, quietly, “it seems like you’ve got two sets of crimes here. Two very serious ones. Take all these little pieces you’ve got and put them together. You agree that, sooner or later, it’s only a matter of time before you know exactly when the crime happened?”

  “At most, it will take a few days,” Ely replied.

  “So you won’t find out until after the election. Tell me, why are you up here with me, now? I mean, why aren’t you going busy interrogating each of your forty-seven suspects?”

  “Chancellor Stirling wouldn’t allow it. She said I could only interview five of them. I’ve blown one of those interviews already. I wanted some, well…” He was going to say ‘help’ but changed his mind. “Something more concrete, before I wasted any more.”

  “Well, all right, what do you think is the most important thing that’s happened because of these crimes?”

  “The impact on production,” Ely answered automatically. “We’ve lost two workers. And then there’s all that energy wasted on heating water It’s not just sabotage, it’s got to be some kind of wide-spread anti-production sentiment or–”

  “No, no, no. I taught you better than that. Sabotage is just another way of describing the outcome. Forget the bodies, and the blood, and the loss of production. Think about motive. Who benefits from you not being able to interrogate whoever you want?”

  “Well, the killer.”

  “No, Ely, that’s just another label. Think! They’ve stopped all the transport to and from the Tower, haven’t they? I’ve still got my contacts, people still tell me things. No transports in or out until the killer is caught, right? That’s the most significant thing that’s happened. As to which is the most serious crime, it’s not the murders. It’s not that those people stole the hot water. It’s that for the last year, they’ve been communicating without being monitored. How they’re doing it is something you could solve just by interrogatin
g them. Which you can’t do. So, tell me. Who benefits from that?”

  “You’re suggesting… I mean, I think you’re saying that this has something to do with Chancellor Stirling, I just don’t see why.”

  Arthur sighed. “As soon as the council learns that people are communicating, no, conspiring, off-net, they’ll cut Tower-One off completely from the rest of the city. It’ll be quarantined, and Cornwall’s name will be removed from the ballot. Which means, at this stage, Stirling will win by default.”

  “You’re saying that she wants to hold on to power so badly, that she’d… what? Set up a murder so that I’d discover this theft of the hot water, and that she’d have a reason to close off the Tower?”

  “I think,” Arthur said slowly, “that she’s probably the one who found out about this glitch with the showers in the first place. She’s got agents in this Tower, she’ll have arranged for those forty-seven people to have discovered the flaw in the system. The murders are simply a way to ensure the offence was brought to light, just at the right time.”

  “No,” Ely said, “it’s too farfetched. Why would she do that?”

  “Because she’s old,” Arthur said, softly. “Now listen, and listen carefully. I hear rumours. Good solid rumours that can be trusted. The nurses speak to the pilots when they come to ferry people to Tower-Thirteen. Those same pilots spend most of their lives travelling between our City and the launch pad. Did you ever wonder why people don’t come back?”

  “Vox told me. They had their sentences commuted if they volunteered to stay on and work there.”

  “That’s what she told you? Well, perhaps that’s what she was told and perhaps that’s what she believed. It’s not true.”

  “It’s not? What happens to them? Do they die?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that. One of the pilots brought me back a message. There was this man, convicted years ago. It doesn’t matter what for. He had a son, still here in the Tower. Each time the pilot came in, this felon would beg for this letter to be brought back and given to his son. Eventually the pilot agreed but instead of delivering it, he brought it to me.”