It was troubling that she knew me as Guy Bensen, especially since she was working for Elaine Ramsey.
Most people who used my code name worked with me or needed my help. Madeline fell into neither category, and I feared that she knew too much. I needed to know exactly how much. It was time to use the lie detect.
“I don't really trust old techno,” she said.
“Don't worry, my lie detect works every time.”
“What do you mean?”
With a straight face, I said, “Eberhardt will break one of your fingers every time I suspect you’re lying.”
Eberhardt played along. He put away the gun, flexed his fingers and smiled at me. I smiled back.
“So…are you ready to begin?” I asked Madeline.
“Sure,” she said.
Was she a masochist, or was she was calling my bluff? I looked at her more closely then, and for the first time, I noticed a scar on her right forearm, an old knife wound perhaps. The sleeve covering her left shoulder had slipped down, and I could see another scar, an old burn in the shape of a circle. There was also a thin line of white scar tissue above her left eyebrow.
I reached into the bottom dresser drawer and pulled out an old fashioned lie detect, then turned to her.
“Is there anything you need before we begin? This will be more reliable if you’re relaxed.”
“Mouthwash or toothpaste.”
She probably needed the bathroom for more than that after the amount of liquid she'd consumed the night before. I nodded in the direction of the bathroom.
Eberhardt looked at me and raised his eyebrows when we heard running water.
“Really?” he asked.
I shrugged. “As long as she doesn't leave before we have time to question her. I'll make sure she's not trying to sneak out the window.”
I rapped twice on the door, then opened it. Madeline was clearly enjoying a hot bath, and she made no move to cover herself. It took some effort, but I pulled my head back, took a deep breath and motioned for Eberhardt to follow me into the living room.
Eventually, Madeline emerged from the bathroom, wearing her skirt and pink top. Wet hair only enhanced her beauty. It would be pertinent for me to remain cautious. I realized that I was staring again and forced myself to look away. Her eyes! She looks almost like...
“Are you ready to begin?” I asked and turned my attention to the lie detect.
What was I going to do with her? She knew I was part of the Resistance; she was a liability. It would be disastrous if Elaine Ramsey learned about that. I needed to determine exactly what Madeline knew. Then I'd have to convince her not to talk – either that or Eberhardt would have to...I couldn't let it come to that.
My first questions established how honest answers would be recorded.
“Does Elaine Ramsey know about my ties to the Resistance?”
She said, “I don't think so, but maybe.”
The lie detect confirmed what she'd told me earlier. Nevertheless, Ramsey would remain a threat as long as she believed Oren Johnson was alive. What was Madeline planning to tell her? For that matter, was her name really Madeline?
“Is Madeline Jones your real name?”
“No, I'm Keira Maddock.” The lie detect recorded this as truth. The resemblance was clear.
“Are you related to Scott Maddock?”
She looked surprised and responded with a question instead of an answer. “How do you know Scott?”
That changed everything. I turned off the machine and the recorder and reached over to gently remove an electrode. She reached up and removed the others.
“You don’t have the money, do you?” I looked directly into her eyes. “It was already gone when you got here.”
“Yes, it was gone,” she replied without looking away. “I was planning to steal it from you, but when I opened the safe, it wasn't there. Killing you prematurely would have only made the rest of my job more difficult.” She finished with a shrug.
Her indifference sent a shiver down my spine. She and Scott looked so similar yet were undoubtedly different.
“How do you know Scott?” she asked again.
Even so...I ignored her question, reached into a small bag and extracted a magnet. I picked up the recording cassette. “There will be no record of our conversation.”
I looked toward the door. “Eberhardt, please run out and pick up some breakfast for all of us.” I returned my gaze to Keira. “We have a lot to discuss.”
Before he left, Eberhardt walked over and handed me his gun. He knew I'd never use it, but Keira didn't know that.
After he left, I placed the gun on the table in front of me and answered Keira's question with a half-truth. “Scott is one of my clients.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe, but there's more. How do you really know him?”
This was not where I'd expected the conversation to go when I'd suggested the lie dectect. How much had Scott told her?
“I met Scott when I first moved to Tkaron. We were in somewhat similar situations. He worried about you and your sister and wanted you to be safe and happy. Are you?”
“As much as can be expected. I can take care of myself if that's what you're really asking.”
“Scott believes in the Motto of the Realm. Do you?”
“Reliance on citizens makes us great,” she said bitterly. “That used to mean all of us, working together, to better the whole.”
“Not a few at the top relying on the rest,” I completed her thought. “Yes Keira, I prefer the original meaning too. Earlier you implied that you didn't think it was a coincidence the money disappeared last night. Who do you suspect?”
“Eberhardt appears to have the know-how,” she began, but then hesitated.
“No.” I shook my head. “Some of this money was earmarked for his family. Any other ideas?”
“How well do you know Rose? Don't you think it's interesting that she asked you for a large sum of money when I was in the very next room? Maybe she wanted you to suspect me.”
I thought about that. “Possibly. She's greedy, but she's also a terrible liar, and had she known you were here, I think she would have been jealous of another woman in my bed.”
I continued to think about it. Had Rose ever been near me when I’d opened the safe? Yes, she had been standing behind me when I put her mother's pendant in there for safekeeping. Why did she ask me to keep it? I hadn't kept a close eye on her every time she’d visited because everything important was locked up or hidden away.
“She's had the opportunity,” I shared, “but she's not cunning enough to have planned something like this.”
“I know someone who is. I think Elaine Ramsey has already retrieved her money, and I believe she hired Rose to do that.”
“She hired you to do that,” I said.
“I think she wanted me to believe that.”
“But why would Rose turn on me?” I wondered aloud.
“You already answered that. 'Rose is greedy,' you said. And she was dating a lowly gardener. Why?”
“I met her when I was working undercover at her father's estate. I decided she would be a more valuable asset than what I'd been planning to steal.”
“You misunderstood my question. Why would a rich girl date a gardener, and how did you ever convince her that Oren could afford a place like this anyway?”
“I told her I'd recently received a large inheritance from my uncle.”
“You've only told her lies. She doesn't even know your real name.” She nodded. “That was good thinking. If Ramsey has been in contact with Rose, your lies will probably end up saving you.”
Keira was right – I’d never trusted Rose. We’d been doomed from the start. She had every reason to turn on me.
“Richard, retrieving the money was only part of the job, and there is no way Ramsey would have convinced Rose to kill you, not someone like her – that's my job. We need to m
ake it look like I killed Oren Johnson. It's the only way you'll be safe.”
I narrowed my eyes. “No, we're talking about your safety. However, I believe we can come to an agreement. If Elaine Ramsey believes Oren Johnson is dead, she may leave us both alone.”
-Scott-
Introducing Elaine Ramsey
I was 16, the age of Eligibility, when I joined the military. It didn't matter that I hadn't completed my traditional schooling. The military took care of its own, and all training would be provided. I knew it would be a lifelong commitment to a Gov I didn't agree with most of the time, but given the circumstances, I couldn't really think of a better option.
Those who enlisted were given special tests. The doctors were pleased with my results. They said I would be an asset to the realm and registered me for the special operations regiment.
I left home with high hopes. I would have a job. I would be able to contribute to society. Better yet, I would be able to help my family. Members of the SOR received extra provisions. I’d immediately requested that my extras be sent home to help my sisters who always had so little.
***
A few weeks ago, Mrs. Elaine Ramsey requested a meeting with the Lieutenant General. She also requested that I sit in as a witness. It was a common practice, though why she requested me specifically, I had no idea, and I didn't ask. No one ever questioned the head of Ramsey Corps, a tall and thin yet foreboding elderly woman. Near the end of the meeting she shared a personal concern.
“General, I'm embarrassed to say that I was recently robbed.”
The general glanced at me and seemed to consider his words carefully before he spoke. “I hope whatever was taken wasn't...invaluable.”
“No, but it was a lot of money, and I would like it back. I was thinking maybe we could send in some of the soldiers, discreetly.”
“If our office gets involved, I'll have to report it as part of the public record. Would you still like our help?”
“No, thank you,” she replied as she shook his hand. “I'll find another way.”
“Right this way, Mrs. Ramsey.” I held open the door for her. “I'll be happy to escort you to your car.”
After we'd left the building but before we reached her car, I continued quietly, “I know someone who is in the business of solving problems discreetly and off the record.”
“I'm interested.” She smiled.
“There would be a cost for her services.”
“Cost is not an issue, soldier, if the work is of good quality.”
So I gave her Keira's alias and told her she should expect to hear from Madeline within the next few days. I'd never approved of my sister's choice of occupation, yet I tried to help her out whenever an opportunity presented itself.
-Keira-
Getting Out
“Richard, retrieving the money was only part of the job, and there is no way Ramsey would have convinced Rose to kill you, not someone like her – that's my job. We need to make it look like I killed Oren Johnson. It's the only way you'll be safe.”
“No, we're talking about your safety. However, I believe we can come to an agreement. If Elaine Ramsey believes Oren Johnson is dead, she may leave us both alone.”
I nodded. All right then, we understood each other. “By the way, what do you want me to call you?”
“Most people call me Richard. My friends call me Rick.”
“And you prefer Guy but only with people who know your secret.” I paused for a beat, and then asked, “What does Scott call you?”
“That's a good question, and one that you should ask him. What would Scott say about you, I wonder? Would he tell me to trust you?”
“Well, I'm no longer planning on killing you, so that's a plus.” I smiled. “I'll check in with Scott. If he thinks you're worth it, then you'll have nothing to worry about, at least not from me.”
Just then, Eberhardt opened the door and walked in with coffee and muffins. He looked at the gun on the table and then at both of us.
I turned back to Richard. “Do you have a contact on the police force?”
“Of course I do.” He walked briskly to his desk and reached for his transceiver. He placed a call but kept the vidscreen turned off. Instead, he gave a numerical code, which must have clearly identified him to the party on the other end, before he explained the reason for his call.
“What did I miss?” Eberhardt set breakfast on the table and picked up his gun.
I reached for a raspberry muffin and a cup of coffee, black. “It's Rose. We think she's working for Elaine Ramsey too.”
“No shit! Really?”
I smiled and licked some crumbs off my fingers.
Richard rejoined us. “I underestimated her too,” he said to Eberhardt. “The police will be here soon to investigate the robbery and death of Oren Johnson. We need to be out of here in half an hour.” He turned to me. “You'll come with us?”
“No, I have to go to work, and so does Eberhardt.”
Eberhardt nodded. “I'll stay and work with the police.”
I looked at Richard. “Try to leave without being spotted, and let me go first. I'll be obvious and try to draw attention away from the building. If Mrs. Ramsey has hired anyone else, hopefully they'll follow me. I'll meet with her later this morning and tell her what happened to Oren.”
I retrieved my coat and purse from the bedroom and hurried to the front door. Before I reached it, Richard was at my side, his hand on my arm.
“Wait! Exactly what do you plan to tell her?”
I turned and gave him my full attention. “That I killed Oren Johnson. Don't worry, I won't tell her anything else.”
“How can I reach you?”
“It's probably best that you don't, but if you need to, contact Scott.”
I hurried through the hall, down the stairs and into the bright sunlight. Once on the street, I projected an air of confidence as I walked along, joining the flow of pedestrians and cyclists. Eventually, I paused and knocked on the window of a cab. It was a rusty old blue wagon. Hopefully, it would get me more than a few blocks before breaking down. I gave the driver directions to The String Bean, a restaurant a few blocks from my apartment.
I frequented The String Bean, since it was so close to home. Over time, the waitstaff and I had become friendly. Today, I walked in, chatted for a bit, and then exited through a side door. One could never be too cautious.
My apartment, located in one of Tkaron's nicer Working Class neighborhoods, could have easily fit into Richard's living room, but it was familiar and comfortable. It was home.
I kicked off my shoes and turned on an old techno musical device that had belonged to my mother. A woman's voice rang out clearly. “Just direct your feet...to the sunny side of the street...” My mother had enjoyed music from the early 20th Century. The upbeat melodies and bright lyrics added color to our days. She'd told me that it masked the prevalent hardships of the time, hardships that seemed to be an ongoing experience for our people. I was drawn to the music because of the irony and because it reminded me of my mother.
I directed my feet past my bed and to my closet. The threadbare carpet was grey now. I had no idea what color it had been in its glory days.
Which outfit would work best for today? As always, I needed to look the part. I chose a pretty green dress speckled with tiny daisies. Shoes? White sandals. After a dab of lip color and something for my eyes, my look was complete, that of a lovely young saleswoman.
-Scott-
A Call from a Friend
My personal transceiver buzzed, “Maddock here.”
“Hi, Scott!”
I recognized the voice so I turned on the vidscreen for verification. “Rick! What's up?”
“We have a friend in common. Her name is Madeline.”
How did they meet? In case anyone was tracking this call, I would keep it light, a conversation between friends. “Yes, Maddie! W
onderful girl.”
“Beautiful too!”
“Sure is!”
“I understand you know her pretty well. What's your opinion of her?”
“She's loyal and trustworthy. She's a good find!”
“How much does she know about me?” Rick asked.
I shrugged. “We've never talked about you.”
“You've known her for a long time, haven't you?”
I nodded.
“Well, have you ever, you know?”
If anyone was listening in, they would think we were talking about something else entirely, but I knew what Rick was really asking. He wanted to know how much I'd told Keira about the Resistance. The answer was, nothing.
“No. Circumstances were never right. And I guess I just wasn't sure how she would react. How long have you known her?”
“Not long, but it feels like we know each other pretty well already.”
“Who made the first move, if I may ask?”
“She did.”
So Keira had somehow learned about the Resistance, and she knew Rick was a contact. What else does she know? Why did she contact him? Is she interested in joining, or does she need help? Too little information could be dangerous. It was time to tell her.
“In my opinion, she's trustworthy but not trusting.”
“Well, I thought a good start might be roses, but I don't know. Maybe it's too soon? Do you know what other flowers she likes – something more casual perhaps?”
“Flowers?” This wasn't about flowers. “I don't know, but I can find out for you.”
“Thanks! I'd really like to make a connection, if you know what I mean.”
I understood completely. Guy needed to get in touch with Keira, and it was important. I looked at the time. Those drills wouldn't run themselves.
“I have to go. But I'll talk with her soon and find out what kind of flowers she likes. Good luck!”
-Keira-
Double Crossed for Sure
It was still a little too early to leave, so I sat down in my shabby yet comfortable cranberry chair, leaned my head back and listened to some more music. “I've Got Rhythm” began to play. As the singer crooned about her man, a thought flitted through my head. Could Richard be “my man?” I chuckled. Could any man? Hardly. I knew it was better to be alone. Men were not to be trusted. The Elite were not to be trusted. The Gov was not to be trusted. Who was I kidding…most people were not to be trusted.