Maxwell sat at his desk and tapped the surface with a pen. It was an impatient action - the sign of a man deep in thought and under stress.
Sobel's trail was still cold. Sweeps turned up nothing. Governor Field had allowed Security to monitor all communication in and outside the City – dead end. Mayor Tompson granted full impunity – no warrants needed. They could search wherever they wanted – pointless. The man had become even more of a ghost.
He hated waiting – which seemed like the only option. It was also uncommon. Over his entire career Maxwell seldom waited for anything. Answers and leads came easy. No matter the severity of the crime he was always on top of things. Now he was stuck, and being stuck made him feel old.
Since his first day on the job he believed the simplest answer was often the right one. In this case it meant Sobel was the killer. But that had become unlikely. So he was left with a dilemma.
Until Lapearle walked into the room.
"I have someone I'd like you to meet," he said. His stride was confident and there was a smile on his face.
"Who might that be?" Maxwell asked.
Lapearle moved to an empty wall opposite Maxwell's desk and placed a small black Tab on it. This caused a large image of a woman to appear on the white surface. She was slender and fit, with shoulder length black hair. "This is Emma Gibb."
"Okay."
"You should have met her on duty a few hours ago. Call sign is Wilson."
Maxwell sat up straight. "Should?"
Lapearle nodded. "She wasn't in the Husk."
"Who was?"
"You'll have to bear with me. This is going to take some explaining." Lapearle smirked. "It's amazing what you can uncover with full access to the City Mainframe."
"I'm all ears."
"Emma worked in Defense Development. Desk job – likely a file sorter or clerk. Positions like that make for a good cover. You're not prominent enough to be missed if you disappear for a stretch of time."
"Makes sense."
"She left her office when Alpha Block was ordered here, reported to her C.O. and transferred to the Husk. This is all recorded." Lapearle tapped the Tab. The image changed to surveillance footage. The subject was a small white car. Emma Gibbs face was clear and visible through the windshield. There was a time stamp in the bottom right corner. "This is her at Tunnel Twelve exiting the City at the same time her crew was in conference with you."
"How is that possible?"
"Haven't the slightest idea," said Lapearle. "But ocular scan matches – she's definitely in that vehicle."
"Are there any leads on who might be in the Husk?"
"I combed through a lot of data and came up with one. It might be a stretch but better than nothing." Lapearle tapped the Tab again. An image of Morris appeared.
Maxwell hung his head. "You've got to be kidding me."
"I could be way off," said Lapearle. The next image showed Morris and Emma in conversation at a party, surrounded by a group of people. "This woman is a straight shooter – no nonsense, associates with very few people, none of them criminals. So why would she be looking so friendly with our pal? A known felon with criminal ties."
"Hiding in plain sight."
"Pardon?"
"This is insane," Maxwell muttered. He stood and crossed the room.
"What's insane?" Lapearle asked. He had no choice but to follow.
Maxwell ignored him and strode down the hall. His expression was grave. Without slowing he pushed open a steel door at the end and marched through. On the other side was Commander Gorman's office. He was seated at a huge desk, behind him a window looked out on the City. His expression never moved past dull interest when he saw Maxwell enter, nor did it change much when Maxwell rounded the desk and punched him in the face.
"Holy shit!" yelped Lapearle.
"Satisfied?" asked Gorman.
"Terribly."
"Violence won't fix your mess."
"My mess?" Maxwell yelled. "How is it my mess? You told me not to hold Morris when we had him. Now he might be involved in stealing a Husk, kidnapping Sobel and the disaster downtown! You know something about him. You always have, which is why you held back evidence during his trial. I supported your decision then because it made sense but I'm questioning it now. Especially after this. People may have been killed or injured because of secrecy!"
Gorman shifted in his chair and pushed a button on one of the arms. The office windows darkened and the door locked. "Morris is a means to an end."
"How long until he uses up his value?"
"In this case a while once you know the bigger picture." Gorman rubbed his jaw. "That was a good hit. You're lucky I sort of deserved it."
Maxwell shrugged. "I've dealt with enough stress and strain over the last few days. Figuring out my boss withheld information that would help an investigation was the last straw."
"I should have discussed this with you earlier. But it's not a subject that instills much confidence or loyalty when you see how corrupt the whole thing is. You're a company man Maxwell, and Security desperately needs those. This will destroy any sense of commitment."
"I'm sure I can handle it."
"I have an idea who's behind it all. Right from the first death tied to Richard Sobel at the Sands Foundation."
"Who?"