Of Broken Things

Chapter 1 - scene 4.

The Fortworth residence was located in one of those posh gated communities that have perfectly manicured lawns and state of the art security systems.

Aiden chatted with the Planetary Forces veteran who was manning the guard house by the gate. The murder hadn’t taken place on his shift, but he managed to give Aiden a pretty good idea of how security worked. The community was on a unified security grid operated directly from the guard house. The guard assured them, not without pride, that it was top of the line and virtually unhackable. The grounds were equipped with cameras and motion sensors around the entire perimeter of the fence, as well as with an energy field that enclosed the community like a dome at night. Ricky said that his team had analyzed the data, and the dome had not been breached. Aiden insisted on having all the files sent to his transmitter anyway. Something told him that he would be going over this data often in the next few days.

All houses were also equipped with surveillance cameras and motion sensors both inside and outside. However, the Fortworths had turned off both the cameras and the sensors inside the house, leaving only the exterior break-in sensors. The guard assured Aiden that this was a perfectly normal occurrence, and that most of the families here did the same. After all, who wanted to set off the alarm every time they went to the bathroom at night?

So once the killer was inside the house, he could move around unhindered. But how did he get inside the house in the first place? As far as he knew, people couldn’t walk through walls and energy fields undetected, or just teleport inside a closed space. When humans would be able to do that, he would retire.

They thanked the guard and followed the road to the Fortworth residence. Aiden noted that it was in a cul-de-sac close to the perimeter fence and the woods, with only one neighbor across the road. But with the size of both front yards and the tall privacy hedge growing in front of the houses, it wasn’t surprising that the neighbors hadn’t seen or heard anything.

Marjory Fortworth proved to be exactly how Ricky had described her - a lady. In her mid-forties, she radiated confidence. Her blond hair was impeccably stiled, and she wore an elegant cashmere business suit that probably cost more than what Aiden asked for the trickiest of his cases. Her handshake, when she gave Aiden her perfectly manicured hand, was firm, and her smile was warm and engaging. But Aiden noticed worry lines around her mouth and a feverish glint to her eyes. And even though her make up was tastefully done, it couldn’t quite hide the shadows under her eyes. Mrs. Fortworth had had trouble sleeping lately.

He was also surprised by Ricky’s attitude towards Marjory. There was none of his usual flirting, joking around and barely concealed innuendos. No, Ricky was serious and professional, but Aiden could see compassion and some sort of kinship in his eyes. That was so different from Ricky’s normal behavior, that Aiden decided to have a chat with his friend once they were done here. After twenty years on the force, surely Ricky knew better than to form an emotional connection with the victim’s family? Their job was to catch the killer, not to act as grief counselors. Crossing that line never ended well.

With the introductions out of the way, Ricky stepped back and let Aiden lead the conversation.

“Mrs. Fortworth, I know you have been over all of this with the police, but I need you to walk me through that evening again. Some details could have come back to you, so please don’t hesitate to share them, no matter now insignificant they seem.”

Mrs Fortworth nodded, “Call me Marjory, please. Like I told detective Benson, I don’t remember much from that night. We went to bed around 11, but Joshua and James were still up, because there was music coming out of their rooms. I’m not sure when they finally fell asleep. When we woke up, the three of us were in the basement, tied up, and there were police officers all over the house…”

“Do you remember anything out of the ordinary before you went to bed? An alarm malfunctioning? Maybe the cameras went offline for a few seconds? Automatic lights came on in the yard?”

He could see her trying to replay that evening in her mind, to find something she had missed, even though she probably went over it so many times in the last month. Finally she just shook her head.

“I am sorry, Mr. Stapleton. It was just a normal evening. The lights did go on around 8, but it was just a deer in the backyard. It must have wandered in earlier that day and got stuck when the energy field activated. We often get deer in our yard, they seem to love the begonias Steven planted.”

“Did you hear anything strange in the house before you fell asleep?”

“No. But I went out like a light, which is strange in itself, because I am prone to insomnia. Detective Benson said that the killer used some kind of sleep gas on us.”

Aiden nodded. The report had mentioned that an empty canister of sleep gas had been found near the main central air vent. It was an old version of the military grade product that was now available to law enforcement and private security firms. The sales weren’t regulated, and the canister was unmarked, so there was no way of tracing it to a buyer. A dead end.

“I will need to go through the list of your late husband’s friends, enemies and acquaintances,” he told Marjory.

“I have copies all of Steven’s research notes, working files, schedules, personal and professional emails and everything else I could find on his personal datapad,” she handed him a chip. “I hope you will find a connection, because I don’t know what to think anymore. Steven didn’t have any enemies. He was just a college professor. And what they say about his gambling debts… I know my husband, Mr. Stapleton. He had his faults, but gambling wasn’t one of them.”

Aiden gave her long hard look. He could see that she tried very hard to believe in what she said, but deep inside there was this worm of doubt slowly eating its way through her heart.

“Mrs. Fortworth, in my experience, we rarely know everything about other people, even those closest to us. If you chose to hire me, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to uncover the truth behind this murder, but you might not like what I find. Are you still determined to look for answers?”

Marjory took her time to consider the matter, which made her rise even more in Aiden’s esteem, then she finally said:

“If it was really a professional hit, then Steven was mixed up in something bad. That would also mean that I had lived for 20 years with a man who had lied to me. If that’s the case, of course it would hurt, but not knowing and wondering why it happened hurts even more. So yes, I still want to hire you.”

After they signed the contract and a modest 10 percent advance was wired to his personal account, Aiden and Richard bid goodbye to Mrs. Fortworth and headed back to the precinct so that Aiden could pick up copies of the interviews the police had had with Mr. Fortworth’s colleagues and students, as well as the contents of his work computer.