Scent SeductionChapter 6
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Claire was edgy. She waited nervously in the empty classroom until the door opened and both her daughters crept in.
"What's she doing here?" Hailey protested indignantly.
"Hailey, listen to me," Ruth replied, pausing for effect. "It's Mum."
"What? Where?" She looked at Claire and realization dawned. "No way."
"It is me sweetheart," Claire told her softly.
"This isn't right. You're dead. This is some sort of sick joke," the girl cried out in denial.
Claire moved towards Hailey to comfort her but the girl jumped away angrily.
"Don't touch me. Don't you dare," she spat. "Do you realize what you've put us all through? What you've put Dad through?"
"There was nothing I could do," Claire protested.
"Yeah right."
"I'm taking a risk just being here."
"Pretending to be Miss History Teacher?"
"I did it to get close to you."
"You didn't think that perhaps dropping by the house might be simpler?"
"The house is being watched."
"Of course it is," Hailey replied sarcastically.
"Stop it," Ruth shouted at her sister. "You don't know what she's been through."
"And you do?"
"I believe it when she says that we're all in danger and we can't tell Dad that she's still alive."
"What? You think that Dad's involved in all of this?" Hailey exclaimed.
"Your father's not involved, at least not in the way you think," Claire stated. "But there is something he did that you're not aware of."
"Such as?" Hailey demanded.
"I can't tell you at the moment. You have to trust me."
Claire had only remembered Karl's past actions the previous evening. Everything was beginning to come together but she knew this wasn't the time or place to discuss it with the girls.
"I love you Hailey," Claire added solemnly. "I love both of you."
Hailey watched Ruth cuddle up to her mother. Feeling neglected, she joined the pair and sobbed heartily. The horror of the past months slowly diminished with the realization that things might just eventually return to the way they were before the nightmare began.
"So let's get this straight," Bennett summarized. "Our missing lady breaks into the radiology lab at the local hospital, disables the alarm and bypasses the CCTV system.
"Then she uses the CT scanner, carefully erasing any trace of what she did before resetting the alarm and walking away into the night."
"That about sums it up," Sands confirmed. "If it hadn't been for the broken lock and a suspicious security guard then we'd probably be none the wiser. We know that she used the machine. They leave it in a set state every night and the technician remembers noticing the change the following morning."
"Two days later," the sergeant continued, "she buys a rucksack from Dollar Mart, strolls up to an ATM and casually wanders off with a hundred grand. There's no record of the transaction but the manager confirmed the loss when he did a manual tally. There's no sign of a fault with the machine."
"What do they all have in common? Surely we can't link Syntel to this."
"The ATM has a Quantum CPU, as does the CT scanner. The alarm system has a Quantum compatible interface."
"So she could be some kind of hacker?" Bennett inferred.
"That would be my guess."
"But the Quantums can't be hacked."
"That we know of."
"Syntel would be mightily pissed off if they could."
"Wouldn't they just," Sands chuckled.
"Let's say this hacker is at Mason's club," Bennett speculated. "Maybe she's doing some work for him when Syntel, or someone connected with them, raid the place."
"So this girl was the target all along you reckon? The rest of the casualties were purely incidental?"
"It all fits. Mason would certainly have been interested in anybody that could empty an ATM without leaving a trace."
"And the stuff in the flasks?" Sands asked.
"Maybe it's something she uses. We know that the nanotubes are associated with Quantum technology. If Syntel's machines can be hacked then this is definitely something that's worth killing for. I don't think that we should discuss this with anyone else until we know exactly what we're up against."
"With anybody?"
"How many people in this office do you really know that well?"
"Point taken," Sands agreed.
"Have there been any other sightings of the girl?" Hamel asked as she sat in Bennett's office. This had been the second day in succession that she'd visited.
"Nothing definite," he answered. "We're working on the assumption that she somehow escaped from the club and is trying to maintain a low profile."
"For what reason?"
"Fear of the people that raided the club," Bennett surmised.
"What are you doing to find her?"
"We've very little manpower at the moment. She's possibly a material witness to the killings but we've got no definitive proof that she's committed any other crime. I doubt that I could get authorization for a full scale operation to locate her."
"What about the surveillance grid?"
"It's a big city. Do you know how much effort it would take to monitor a fraction of the city's camera footage?"
"So you're just giving up?" Valerie accused.
"I'm following up several leads but my resources are stretched thin. Perhaps you can have a word with your boss and see if he can pull some strings."
"My boss?" she replied in surprise.
"Your boss," Bennett retorted angrily, "the mayor."
"Yes, sorry. I suppose I can try."
"I won't hold my breath," he sighed offhandedly.
"Don't blame me lieutenant," Hamel fumed, "just because you can't do your fucking job."
"You've got some spunk in you after all Valerie," Bennett laughed.
Valerie's gaze wandered to the outer office where Janice stood pinned against an internal wall. One of the detectives was clearly harassing her, whispering in her ear as his hand fondled her rump. The woman finally managed to escape his clutches and she rushed out of the room in apparent distress.
"Excuse me a second," she told Greg, quickly following after the data analyst. The corridor was empty but a click from the direction of the ladies toilet revealed her probable location. Janice was rinsing her face in the washbasin, trying to calm her nerves when Valerie entered.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I will be," Janice replied. "I just needed some breathing space."
"Was Hastings bugging you?"
"He won't take no for an answer."
Valerie looked the woman up and down, noting the provocative mode of dress. Over the past few weeks, her skirts had been getting increasingly shorter and the way her blouse conformed to her shape hinted that she was without a bra.
"Are you wearing anything under your top?" Valerie inquired.
"No," Janice replied sulkily.
"Don't you think that perhaps you're leading them on a bit?"
"I can dress how I like."
"This is an office Janice, not a nightclub."
"You're not my minder," the blonde snapped, storming out of the room.
Sands waited until Bennett was alone before approaching him.
"How badly do you want to open up this case?"
"You shouldn't need to even ask that."
"I've been trying to get access to someone at Syntel, someone that could find out what we need to know."
"You know of such a person?"
"Ten years ago, this postgrad chemist had set himself up a nice little sideline dealing to the student community. He was about to go down for a long stretch."
"Okay."
"I did a deal. He gave me the names of all his suppliers and I let him walk free and purged his record."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"He works for Syntel now. He's a senior chemist in that big facility up in the hills."
"Syntel Defence Systems?"
"I was thinking. A man like that has a lot to lose."
"It's not exactly by the book Pete."
"Do you want the information or not?"
"Have you spoken to him?"
"I thought I'd run it past you first."
Bennett thought long and hard. "Do whatever you have to do."
It was the third lunch in a row that Claire had spent with the girls. They hugged passionately before sitting down to talk.
"When are you going to let Dad know that you're okay?" Hailey asked.
"I need to find a way to talk with him," Claire replied. "Somewhere where we can't be overheard and I can spot any sign of trouble."
"You really think that there are people watching us?"
"I know it for a fact. These people know that I'm on the loose. Waiting for me to contact your dad is a whole lot easier than trying to find me."
"Why are they doing this?"
"Your dad made them look stupid and they don't like that."
"What did he do?" Ruth asked.
"I'm worried that you won't like either of us once you learn the truth."
"You're our mum and dad. We love you," Hailey protested. "Nothing you've done can possibly change that."
"I'm proud of both of you. It can't have been easy these past few months."
"I just want us all to be together again," Hailey told her.
"I know. I'm just not sure how to make that happen yet," Claire admitted.
Having eventually come up with a plan, Claire hated the idea of using her children to implement it. She waited until their next meeting to put her scheme into play.
"You know when we went camping by the lake this summer?" she asked Hailey the following lunchtime.
The girl nodded. The holiday had been an experiment, an attempt to get away for a few days without breaking the bank. To everyone's surprise, it had been an unmitigated success with the unspoilt surroundings providing a refreshing alternative to the pervasive commercialism of Saragosan theme parks.
"I want you to suggest to your dad that you'd like to go back there again this weekend."
"Are you going to be there?" she asked hopefully.
"If you're alone and I see no sign of surveillance then I'll find you and we'll figure out what to do."
The girls looked at each other and grinned. Hailey stayed behind after Ruth departed, her expression leaving little doubt there was something on her mind.
"It's about Kathy," she told Claire.
"What about her honey?"
"She and Dad spend a lot of time together. I don't think she's going to be very pleased when you turn up."
"Ruth told me that they've become good friends."
"She's all over him. It makes me sick."
"Your dad thinks that I'm dead. He never was one for being on his own. We'll just have to deal with it the best we can."
Watching Hamel talking on her phone, Bennett admired her lithe figure as she paced the room. He was starting to enjoy having her around again and considered involving her more fully in what they were planning. She certainly had a sharp mind and he wondered if she could inject any ideas of her own into the mix.
She'd surprised him by arranging the return of two of the detectives that had been previously reassigned. He put them to work immediately, chasing around the various shopping centres with a photo of their hacker, asking the sales assistants if they recognized her. Anyone with a hundred grand in cash will spend some it eventually, he mused
"Thanks for speaking to the mayor," he told her sincerely. "I shouldn't have doubted you."
"I said I'd try," she reminded him.
"I'm sorry. Let me make it up. How about if I buy you dinner?"
"I'm not sure."
"No strings attached. I can pick you up, we can eat then I'll drive you straight back home afterwards."
She pondered for a few seconds before relenting.
"I know this quiet place near where I live. You'll like it," he told her.
Hamel nodded and forced a smile.
When they were alone, Sands relayed more good news.
"My guy was not exactly happy, but I think he's going to play ball."
"Have you told him what we're after?"
"Not yet. I'll play him a little bit of line then reel him in."
"It's not like he has any choice in the matter," Bennett replied, not altogether enamoured with Sands' coercive methods.
"I've promised him some cash if he delivers the goods."
"Where the smoke is that going to come from?" Bennett demanded.
"You can't tell me that you've not got access to any discretionary funds."
"They're not intended for bribery."
"Not even if it gets the job done?"
Bennett slammed his fist down on the desk but made no further comment.
She was waiting by the curb as Greg drew up outside her apartment. Sandals and a long flowing white dress replacing the more formal attire she wore to work.
"You look incredible," Greg praised, feeling a little underdressed in his casual slacks and short sleeves.
"I wasn't sure what to wear," she replied tentatively. "Is this too dressy?"
"You've put me to shame," he admitted. "Let's go eat."
Valerie dropped into the passenger seat of the two-seater sports car, carefully folding her legs into the limited space of the footwell.
"Do you think you could've found a smaller car?" she complained.
"The Panther's a classic. I picked it up at auction two years ago. Mid-engine, three hundred horsepower, zero to a hundred kilometres an hour in under five seconds."
"Boys and their toys. Don't you have anything more comfortable?"
"I've got a motorbike."
"You're impossible," Valerie scolded before screaming in surprise as she was flung back in her seat with the sudden acceleration.
"You're very hard to please," Greg laughed as he threw the vehicle into a sliding turn and sped up the approach of the orbital ring road.
Valerie held her breath as the speedometer needle crawled relentlessly around the dial. Adjacent cars blurred as they overtook them then receded quickly into the distance. Her heart beat faster as they weaved in and out of traffic, slowing and accelerating almost at random. She watched Greg occasionally operate a control lever set between their seats and felt the vehicle lurch in response. She realized that the car must have a manual linkage that changed the gearing between the road wheels and the engine that roared like a caged animal directly behind her head. She thought the arrangement primitive compared to the computer assisted transmission of modern vehicles. The second realization was that the car was fuelled by a highly volatile liquefied hydrocarbon rather than the stable fuel cell that powered her own vehicle. She tried not to think too deeply about the possible inferno that might engulf them if they were involved in an accident.
They flicked across the path of an articulated freight truck and she closed her eyes fearing that her final moments were upon her. Powering down the exit ramp, the engine screamed in protest as Greg selected a low gear, reducing the car's velocity to match that of the urban road onto which they merged. Flowing with the traffic, he accelerated briefly before pulling over to the side of the road and killing the engine.
"We're here," he announced. "You okay?"
"I'm alive," Valerie whispered. "I think."
Despite her fear, she felt strangely exhilarated from the experience. Her ears rang from the continuous cacophony of pistons pumping rapidly behind her head with only a thin fibreglass bulkhead separating them from her.
"Do you always drive like that?" she queried.
"Not as often as I'd like."
Greg climbed out and raced around to open the passenger door, helping Valerie to stand on shaky legs. He led her the short distance towards a small bistro with an unassuming frontage. Two tables sat outside, already occupied by happily chattering couples. They entered and a robust waiter seated them in a sheltered alcove to the rear. A fat candle flickered in the middle of the table, casting a radiant glow in all directions and blanketing them with its aromatic fragrance.
Wynona
- 15.01.2023
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