2.
An Inappropriate Plea

-1-

“This probably wasn’t an accident,” a young mechanic told him. Davich stepped over the piled debris from the smashed cruiser that his friend, and one of the few honest men left in the city, had died in. The portion of the vehicle that had remained intact was parked among other wrecks. The kid kicked a broken tire frame. “This thing was burnt. The whole side was charred like… like someone blasted it or something.”

“No punctures?” Davich asked as he leaned down to inspect the smashed and twisted metal.

The kid shook his head. “Nothing like that. But some outside force caused him to loose control. Well, that’s my bet anyway. Could’a been some vags, but that’s doubtful. Won’t know for sure until they start the investigation. I can tell you now though, they weren’t going that fast. Probably hit the exit wall head on. But the force that had smashed the wheel wall came from another direction. From the passenger’s side, driving them into the inside service-exit wall.”

All the mainland highways had service stops in the inside islands. The force that struck their tire had come from the side of the road. Perhaps an attempt to drive them into the service-exit?. Had someone been waiting there? It had to be intentional. Davich had to be careful with his next step. The cruiser had just been hauled into the yard. He’d beat it over here just after leaving Mariane at General. Spacer had gone back to the precinct to take care of that overcrowding problem. But Davich had decided to make sure no one had a chance to tamper with the wreckage. He really didn’t have any jurisdiction here. Fortunately the kid didn’t seem to know that.

“I need you to send a report to my net-home,” he said casually, handing the kid a card, hoping the man wouldn’t balk.

“Uhh, sir you’ll have to wait for the official disclosure,” the kid said, tight lipped. “I shouldn’t have even let you in here but… “ Davich waved his hand as if clearing the air and then draped his arm over the mechanic’s shoulders.

“Look, I know you have regulations,” he said, leading the young man to the edge of the large garage, away from some people who were studying the debris of another accident. “But this is not official. A man died in that accident. I know the guy’s wife and family, see? It would mean a lot to them and me if I could get the results beforehand.”

The mechanic was not impressed with Davich’s rank or familiar posturing. He didn’t shrug his arm off but he shook his head resolutely. “No. No, sir. No can do.” Davich respected the kid’s position. He’d been stuck on New Years duty, the worst time of year to do accident reports. This was the kid’s jurisdiction and he intended to mark his territory.

“Ok, ok… fuck,“ Davich surrendered. “Look, at least do me this. Save your initial findings someplace,” then he put his hands on the young man’s shoulders and locked his eyes, “and if you see anything, I mean the slightest discrepancy between what you find and what gets released in the official report, you tell me. OK?” He pressed his net-home card into the pocket of the mechanic’s grey overalls.

The mechanic pondered this for a moment. Then he nodded reluctantly.

“Oh, and one more thing?”

The young man rolled his eyes. “What?… Sir.”

“Don’t tell anyone I was here”

-2-

The first sunrise of the New Year was just breaking as Davich strolled out of the Department of Transportation’s accident garage. What a way to start the year. “Fuck.” His breath clouded and he huddled his shoulders in his jacket to brace against the cold. There was a heaviness in the air. Moisture. It pressed uncomfortably against his face and made him realize how tired he actually was. He hoped that it would break into rain or snow instead of the typical gloomy fog.

The he saw something that made him stop. A vehicle. Familiar. A larger, expensive cruiser. Mercedes? They all looked alike, he just knew it was one he couldn’t afford. Davich guessed that the owner would be riding in the back. The thing slid into the lot quietly and then up the ramp usually reserved for towing units or state vehicles. Davich felt something coil inside him as he watched. He felt he knew who was inside that car, and would love to verify it, but he didn’t want to be seen here either. So he made his way into the lot and slipped out onto the road before he would be noticed.

He beat it to the scene of the accident. It had taken less time than usually for them to clean the mess up and get it to the garage. One would think that in the confusion of New Year’s morning things like that would take longer then usual rather then the opposite. It bothered him.

When he reached the accident site about ten minutes later, he was relieved to find that not much clean up had occurred. The daylight was growing and the forest to the west of the road was coming alive. Behind him the night lights of Trenton were going off. This was a lightly traveled section of road. It linked the private residences in which the Ramad’s live to the main connector routes to the city. Davich saw that the small debris from the crash had been pilled up against the inner wall of the road. There was not traffic yet so he jumped out and inspected the piles.

Fortunately the thing was being treated like an accident. Just another drunken New Year’s mishap. He already knew different and he had to get some samples before the locals realized it. And there they were. Burnt chips of aluminum and bits of frame and bumper. He picked them up and slipped them quickly into his coat pocket. Once this was labeled a crime scene, his actions would be illegal. But so far he was clear of any wrong doing. Technically.

After retrieving the charred bits of wreckage, he walked to the east side of the road where whatever had caused Massud to loose control must have come from. There were no footprints in the hard cold earth. No shells or anything that would indicate what manner of weapon was used, if indeed it was a weapon. There were probably a host of devices that would deal out enough force to knock a cruiser off course. But this had to be small enough to go unnoticed by Mariane.

He gazed out beyond that point. To the west it was forest. He guessed it would be easy enough for somebody to disappear in that direction. But Mariane had seen… whatever it was framed against the lights of the city. To the east there was a large expanse of undeveloped territory and beyond that the north end of Trenton. Some buildings had stood here once, but not in his life. Why had it gone undeveloped so long? There were ancient rotting foundations and blackened piping poking up in the center of the field. Hmmm. Someone could hide in there. He’d have to check city records and see what had been here.

But now he had to go. The mechanic would be filing his findings, and once the locals found out about that burnt wheel well they’d be out here. He hopped in his cruiser and shot back towards the city.

On his way he saw another vehicle approaching, headed towards the accident scene. It was the same limo from the garage! Now he knew who it had to be. He tinted his windshield as it got closer. He didn’t want to be seen anymore than they did.

-3-

In his small get-a-way room that he’d named the ‘study’ Davich paced anxiously to and fro. He was arguing into a wall comm unit. “I need this case, Terrance,” Davich said.

On the other end of the line, a weary sounding Terrance Portnoy, Chief of the State Criminal Investigation Unit sighed. “What the hell are you talking about Rachman? You can’t investigate this thing! What am I supposed to do? Just tell the locals to blow? And anyway, you got no shoes anymore.”

“Massud was at a party, Terrance. The party was at the northern border. It wouldn’t be hard to make this a state matter. Like I told you, the car got blasted with something. It’s criminal and you can press jurisdiction if you…”

“And like I told you, you got no shoes! You’re a desk. Get used to it. Even if I did press this one, which I have no intention of doing, I couldn’t just hand it to you. There’d have to be someone else.”

“Like who?” Davich asked feigning calm.

But Chief Portnoy wasn’t playing, “Like nobody! Look, Rachman, I’m sorry about Massud. He was a good man, I know that. I know he was your friend. And I am glad Mariane will be ok. But this is completely inappropriate! Until any evidence indicates otherwise, it’s a local matter.”

“You know about the Rouge City shit, Terrance!” Davich roared into the comm, his exhaustion and frustration taking over. “Now you are gonna fuckin’ pretend like this is not related?”

Terrance took a moment to gather himself. He and Davich went a long way back. “Stop now before you get yourself in some shit my friend.” Terrance was one of the few men who could effectively tell Rachman Davich to calm down. “I already know what you’re thinking. I can even put a name to it. But we still have rules and regulations, Rachman, and my job is to see that they are observed.”

Davich felt his anger subsiding. Terrance was right. He had to step back. But he’d decided that the info from the mechanic, if it ever came, he would keep to himself.

Terrance continued, “Now, the minute I see anything in this case that indicates something outside local jurisdiction, I’ll snatch it. But not one second sooner.” And the line went dead.

Davich felt beaten before he had begun. Terrance had been his only hope to beat the locals to the punch. Davich wasn’t one of the inside players. He had no favors to call in. He did his job and did it well. But his job did not take him into the back rooms. The places where the real deals that ran the city were made. Terrance had the balls and power to get this pegged a State investigation. Those local assholes would just screw it up. And Grainer… damn it. This thing stank of him. If the local clods let him walk…

“Fuck!” he spat, unconscious of the little figure that stood at the edge of the room.

“That’s not a good word,” a tiny voice said and the small figure walked from the shadows of the hallway into his study. Davich turned and sighed. He didn’t like that thing coming in here.

“Hello Allison,” he said with forced politeness. Damn. Where was Linda? Why couldn’t she keep her toys in her part of the house?

“Hello, Rachman,” the Mecha replied smiling. Her little pale face had a permanent blush to it and her long black curls ran over her shoulders. Unlike most people he knew, especially Linda, who found the simulator’s accuracy cute, it only annoyed him. He’d bought it for her when they’d been turned down for a license due to the rocky state of their relationship. They could have reapplied, but he’d known even then it would not get any better. So she’d imprinted the thing on her and now it was always by her side. It had become her little minion.

“That’s not a good word and Mommy says that perhaps you shouldn’t use it when you are at home,” the little thing scolded him. Had Linda put it up to this?

“Well, you have a point, deary. Why don’t you give Mommy a message for me?” He leaned close to the robot. “Tell her I said…” and he whispered into the Mecha’s ear just in case Linda was listening on the house comm. He was satisfied at the shocked expression that the simulator donned and the way it ran out of the room to no doubt report to Mommy that he was using bad words again.

He slammed the door behind the thing and fumbled with the burnt debris from the crash site. He’d have to get someone to check this stuff for him. But someone unofficial. He didn’t have anyone in his corner if the locals came after it.

Then the comm buzzed.

“Answer,” he said and the connection clicked.

“Hey Boss, “ it was Spacer. “I got a call at the office for you, that I am patching through. It’s someone I am sure you want to talk to.” Then she disappeared and another voice came on the line.

“Hello? Hey is anyone there?”

Davich knew the voice. His face curled into a snarl at the sound and he made an unconscious growl.

“Hey! Davich? Is that you?! Look, this is Harland Grainer. We need to talk about some things.”

-4-

They’d seen the man studying the place where the car had been taken. Once this might have worried them. Once they might have fled down the ancient underground piping. Down into the realm where they’d be sure not to be followed. But not anymore.

They were getting stronger.

It wouldn’t be long now. Not much longer.