It Looks Like You're Writing a Letter
Chapter 4

Stilson and Doherty strode across thedarkened parking lot of the Security offices. Sec vehicles were always deepblue in colour, even though private vehicles and public transport were almostexclusively white. Stilson supposed black would appear too menacing, and Secofficers had no chance of blending into traffic anyway as the prefix on theiridents made them stick out like sore thumbs wherever they went.

"So where do we start?" askedDoherty, knowing full well that Stilson already had a plan.

"The sister. I've been through Griffen'sfiles and the only family member he's got left is a sister, name of Sue. I'vegot a location on her, we're going to talk to her and see what she knows."

As they neared their allocated vehicle, itunlocked, lit up in a cluster of tiny glowing lights and opened its doorsautomatically. They hurriedly jumped in and Stilson curtly commanded thevehicle to an address in a suburb to the east of town, foregoing manualoperation of the controls altogether.

As the car slid noiselessly from theparking space and out onto the slick black freeway, Doherty looked at Stilson.Did he have family? Despite all the years they'd been partners, he knewvirtually nothing about the stoic Stilson, with his immaculate black suit,coiffured hair and groomed eyebrows. When they were first paired, the officefound their differences amusing. They were called 'The Odd Couple' after anancient television series. Stilson had no family portrait on his arm piece. Infact, Doherty had never heard him mention any children or a spouse. He didn'teven know if he was gay or straight, or somewhere in between - not that itmattered. Their conversation never degenerated into bawdy male banter no matterhow often Doherty tried. It was always business.

For the first few months they'd workedtogether, Doherty made an effort to get Stilson to open up, come out of hisshell, perhaps even smile once in a while. All efforts had proven futile and anill-advised practical joke had seen Stilson report Doherty for improperconduct. That was as much of a hint as Doherty needed to keep the relationshipon a purely professional level. Nor did Doherty detect any hint of tragedy orrepressed turmoil in Stilson. He was efficient, clinical, but seemed togenuinely enjoy his job - he was the perfect company man. Doherty by comparisonoften felt like the older man's wayward son, or an apprentice, even though histime on the job was roughly comparable with Stilson's.

Still, the Ora algorithm, as usual, knewwhat it was doing. Doherty's lightness of touch, sense of humour and peopleskills often came in handy and proved a good counterpoint to Stilson'srazor-like logic and single-mindedness. They were about to go and interrogate anineteen-year-old girl, a perfect case in point.

Within minutes they had arrived outside adreary, crumbling apartment block. Climbing out of the car, Stilson checked hisarm piece.

"Third floor, she's awake."

The apartment building had no lock on themain door so they walked in and were faced with darkness. Doherty flicked anearby switch, which did nothing. Something scurried into a corner on the farside of the lobby.

"Why don't you ever take me anywherenice?" Doherty quipped. Stilson ignored him and activated the floodlighton his arm piece. The lobby and staircase were illuminated in an icy blue wash.

"Come on. She's on the move."

The two Security officers walked briskly upthe stairs, their immediate surroundings bathed in Stilson's blue glow. By thetime they'd got up to level three, Sue's avatar was on level four, so they keptclimbing. Stilson tried to reach her via the Grid, gesturing over his arm piecethen speaking aloud.

"Miss Griffen, Miss Susan Griffen. Weare representatives of OraCorp Security Services and we need to ask you a fewquestions. Please remain where you are." There was no response, but thenneither man was expecting one. They had reached level four and Sue was quiteobviously in apartment 26 at the end of the hall. They approached the door andknocked.

Stilson repeated his previous announcement,this time to the closed door. They waited. A thin African American womanholding a small baby opened the door.

"What do you want?" she snipped.

Stilson glanced at his arm piece. "MrsBowles, we need to speak to Miss Griffen." There was no point in MrsBowles denying Sue's presence in her apartment - her avatar was glowing clearlyin the small bathroom. Stilson and Doherty might just as well have had theability to see through walls.

"She doesn't want to speak to you. Yougot a warrant?"

Stilson smiled coldly. It wasn't really asmile, it was more of a thinning of the lips with upturned corners. It was notmeant to convey amusement, rather it was usually a preamble to something badhappening. "Miss Bowles, may I remind you that as employees of OraCorpSecurity Services we have all rights to enter your home at any time and for anyreason we deem to be suitable. You agreed to this when you created your ident,you know this. Warrants are something from the old movies and haven't been usedfor decades."

"This is some bullshit, Officer!"

Doherty decided it was time to step in. "MrsBowles, we can see you're a busy lady and we really don't want to use up toomuch of your time. We simply want to ask Sue a few questions, she's not in anytrouble. We sure would appreciate it if you'd let us come in and speak to her?"

Mrs Bowles looked at Doherty, seemingly forthe first time. Her face softened almost immediately - such was his charmingdemeanour and boyish good looks. Doherty was a master of body language. By thetime Mrs Bowles had turned her attention to him, he was already leaningcasually against the doorframe, arms uncrossed and palms in view. He also madea point of always carrying his sidearm in the small of his back, rather thanunder his armpit, so it was never visible.

Mrs Bowles sighed. "OK I guess, butany funny business and I'll call the super."

"Thank you so much Mrs Bowles,"said Stilson without any hint of gratitude whatsoever. Both men slid past thehouseholder and into the tiny apartment.

It was as tidy as its space would allow andappeared clean. Stilson had automatically scanned the area and found noweaponry or explosives, no secret rooms and no large output ofelectro-magnetics. Mrs Bowles, the Grid told him, was a friend to Sue Griffen.They had bonded over a mutual love of pop music and had regularly gone to musicshows and discotheques prior to Mrs Bowles' pregnancy. Mr Bowles was out of thepicture, and busy having a relationship with a woman on the other side of town,although he did pay regular alimony. None of this was relevant to theinvestigation but it was easier to know it than ignore it, so Stilson filed theinformation away in case it was useful.

Sue came out of the bathroom. Tears hadstriped her cheeks with charcoal makeup and she was snivelling. She was clad inthe intricate, funereal chic that appeared to be the trend with young peoplethese days. She looked tiny and scared.

"What do you want?" Sue askedwith a trembling voice.

"Miss Griffen, we'd like to ask you afew questions about your brother Tanner Griffen," Stilson started,bypassing small talk.

"What about him? You know as well as Ido I don't know where he is."

"Well, we don't actually know that forsure, do we?"

"You've already checked my ident, youknow I haven't seen him or been with him for months." They were playing adelicate game of cat and mouse. Both parties already knew what the other partyknew, and what they were able to glean from the public information on the Grid.Nonetheless, these face-to-face meetings served to fill in any gaps, where dataslipped between the cracks. There were still certain circumstances where thiscould happen, but largely this scene played out the same every time - bothparties bluffed until they were caught out by some undeniable fact, logged in adatabase somewhere and readily brought to bear in any criminal proceedings.

"Don't you want our help to replace him?"coaxed Doherty. Sue was too streetwise to be taken in.

"Depends what you're going to do whenyou get to him! He's been making fools out of you Sec guys for years. If youhad him in custody he'd never come out alive and we both know it."

Stilson tilted his head to one side as ifto wordlessly acknowledge that she was correct. "Okay Sue, let's try adifferent tack. We all want to replace Tanner, albeit for different reasons. Whoelse is looking for him?"

"I don't know - I'm not close to hisfriends. Check our mutual connections, we don't move in the same circles."This was true. For family members they shared a lower than average mutualconnection count.

"Miss Griffen," Stilson wasgrowing frustrated. "Two nights ago, you visited a top-floor room at 324Swanson. We don't show anyone living there and no Grid activity. You went up,muted your arm piece, came down, went to the 24-hour store around the corner,went back up then came back down again. That's pretty unusual behaviour. Now,we can go there ourselves and replace out what's in that room but I'd rather youtold me."

Sue looked defeated. Keeping quiet aboutthat visit would only buy Thorner about thirty minutes anyway. If he was there,they'd question him. If he wasn't, they would have a hard time tracking himdown due to his off-Grid status. She got the impression she was about to betaken into custody within the next few sentences, and if so it was unlikely shewould see the outside of a Sec building for months.

"Alright. Look - I hired a consultantto help replace Tanner. I'm worried about him and I can't go to you guys forobvious reasons."

Doherty furrowed his brow. "There's aconsultant working from that top floor office? We have nothing coming fromthat." He checked again. The room was definitely empty and registered onlyto the building owner. No energy usage besides standard lighting and doorlocking, neither of which he could track usage for as the building was too oldto have been Gridded up to log such activity.

"Yeah," Sue's face took on amischievous look, "even if I give you his name, you'll never trace him. He'soff-Grid. Totally."

Stilson chuckled, which took Doherty bysurprise. It was a deep, mechanical noise that sounded more menacing thanlighthearted. "You'll be surprised who we can trace, Miss Griffen. Give methe gumshoe's name."

"Thorner. Henry Thorner," Suesaid, petulantly.

Stilson and Doherty looked at each other,trying to detect any hint of recognition on the other's face. None wereforthcoming. Blank.

Stilson swiped his arm piece to check outof the location. "Miss Griffen, thank you for your help. Next time wespeak, I hope you won't force us to climb four flights of stairs."

Sue pulled a face.

As they were leaving, Doherty turned andflicked his fingers across his arm piece. "I've sent you my ident, MissGriffen. If you replace anything out about Tanner's whereabouts, please let meknow. I guarantee there are worse people than us looking for him."

Mrs Bowles slammed the door behind them.

Emerging into the dark winter chill, theSecurity officers walked to the deep blue car and stopped. The car willinglyopened its doors, like a fat cockroach spreading its wings. Neither man got in.

"What now? We don't have much to goon," said Doherty.

"We do have Henry Thorner,"Stilson replied.

"Except we don't, because the guy's aghost - he's off-Grid, so chasing him is going to be near impossible."

"Easier to chase a guy we know is atleast alive, than run after a cold digital trail." Stilson was busy on hisarm piece as they spoke, already two steps ahead.

"What are you doing?" Dohertycraned his neck to see the glowing blue screen.

"If he's off-Grid and doing his kindof work, he must be an older guy. No way he'd get a stitch of work if he wasn'tconnected physically with some useful people, and that takes years."

"Okay, so...?"

"If he's older, he must have family.He might be off-Grid, but it's unlikely they will be. I'm running a check onhis name and Grid activity close to where we know Thorner was locatedgeographically in the last twenty-four hours."

It dawned on Doherty: "Right, so if he'sbeen visited by a family member we can replace out who and speak to them."

Stilson looked disparagingly at hispartner. "Use your brain Doherty. Here - outgoing call from the PayCubeoutside Henry Thorner's office building earlier this evening - 12:07am. To...Linda Thorner, 24, intern at Huby's law firm in Omaha, one cat, single, blonde."

Doherty still looked puzzled. "So whatam I missing?"

Stilson spoke his ident to the arm piece. "SEC-Stilson12386level 8 access." A red border appeared around the edges of his screen. "You'venever used level 8 access? You have it, right?" Doherty actually had noidea. The last time he'd read a formal communication he was categorized atlevel 6, but that was some time ago. Stilson sighed and continued as ifspeaking to a toddler. "I'm requesting the video, audio and transcript ofthat call. We'll replace out why he was calling the daughter - but there can onlybe one reason."

Stilson tapped behind his left ear,activating the bone-conduction headphones linked wirelessly to his arm piece.He typed and motioned on his arm piece for a few seconds, then furrowed hisbrow as he listened to the playback.

"Alright. Bingo." Stilsondisconnected the headphone link and reverted his access. "Thorner wasasking for the details of an ident. One William Kruke of the Church of theDivine in Fort Smith, Oregon."

"I'm guessing this is important. Butwhy a church?" Doherty was already busily gesturing over his arm piece,drilling into Kruke. "This Kruke character resides at this church butdoesn't identify as clergy. Doesn't look like it's an active church, if thereeven is such a thing anymore. I wonder what it's been repurposed for. Grid justlists it as a community meeting place. I guess we're taking a ride?"

"That's exactly what we're doing."