Stephanie Steele
Chapter 27

SYSTEM REBOOTING

Steele’s system came back online. She was stood upright in a small room she recognised as being in the basement of the PD precinct. She was in one of the holding cells. The one where they kept droids, because droids could commit crimes. It wasn’t just humans who could break the law. It smelled of dampness and week old socks and somewhere outside, maybe at the booking desk, she could hear voices talking. She couldn’t make out what they were saying but there were at least two males in the conversation. She tried stepping forward and touched something solid. Her system instantly shut down.

SYSTEM REBOOTING

Steele came back online for a second time. She knew she had to keep still or she’d shut down again. She couldn’t move an inch or she’d touch the electric bars encasing her, holding her against the wall. They were designed specifically to hold android criminals until they could be shut down permanently. Touching the bars and attempting to get free would result in an electric charge which would shut the android down temporarily. They obviously thought she was capable of breaking out of the cell and weren’t taking any chances.

She’d seen droid prisoners kept in here for days until the paperwork came through for them to be terminated. Trials for droids, even cop droids, were usually just a meeting of high ranking police officers and a judge sitting in a room to decide if the accused was guilty. If found guilty sentencing was always a permanent shut down, the drive destroyed and the chassis sent to the reclamation yard for spare parts. She could imagine what verdict they’d reach when the evidence for the prosecution was presented. How long did she have left she wondered? Considering what she was accused of she guessed it would be quick. How long had she been here already? Impossible to tell. All she could do was wait.

As it happened, she didn’t have to wait long. Frank and two other cop droids came and collected her an hour later. They escorted her in handcuffs and leg irons down a corridor she recognised as leading to the room where droid crims were switched off. That’s it then. They’d decided. She’d been alive for eleven years, one month, two weeks and four days.

No one spoke to her and she didn’t much feel like speaking to them. What was she going to say anyway? Please don’t kill me? What was the point? The decision had been made. She was on her way to her execution and there wasn’t a thing she could do or say to prevent that. The thought didn’t fill her with fear. In fact she felt relief. Strange. She thought at least she’d be pissed and put up some kind of fight. The baddest bad ass on the force was going to go out without even a whimper. It didn’t seem fitting somehow.

They reached the room where she was to end her days. An ordinary door. No signs on it saying ANDROIDS KILLED HERE. Nothing to tell the condemned what to expect. What she didn’t expect was to be sat in a chair at a table across from Walt. Was he the one going to tell her the bad news? She didn’t envy him. She’d had to do it more times than she cared to remember in her ten year service. It never got any easier. He looked into her eyes, hatred seeping from every pore. He looked like he wanted to kill her. Maybe he’d volunteered to tell her.

He was overweight for his age, losing his hair, probably had a heart attack coming in the next fifteen years, sweated heavily, probably due to his excess weight. She could also tell from his breathing that his heart rate was up and from his breath that he’d drank copious amounts of coffee today to hide the stench of alcohol he’d consumed the night before. The alcohol would play a part in his heart attack or liver failure, whichever came first.

The two droid cops left but Detective Frank stayed.

Walt looked her up and down with a certain amount of disgust. “There’s nothing a cop dislikes more than a cop killer. You’re going down for this Steele, so you may as well confess so we can wrap this up. Where’s Freddy Winkleman hiding out?”

She was relieved they hadn’t got Freddy. If he had any sense he’d get out of the city fast, get himself a new identity and disappear as she had planned on doing. Why hadn’t she done that herself? She had to go and have a look at that dead girl. Couldn’t resist. Now look where it had got her. The tracker inside her meant that Freddy would know by now where she was and he’d know her predicament. That it was all over. She knew Freddy was capable of evading the cops and hoped he had the sense to just leave.

“Are you on his payroll as well? A dirty cop is just as bad as a cop killer in my books.”

Walt dealt a blow to her chin which she figured hurt him more than it did her. But it had given him some satisfaction. Beating the crims for a confession was common place in the Paradise City PD. She’d even done it herself a few times. So this was how it was going to be?

Over the next twenty four hours she told and retold Walt her story and the facts as she saw them. About Mia hacking the mayor’s computer, the mayor kidnapping Mia, Edwards killing Nixon, her suspicions of Noel Chandler being implicated, about Ordo Templi Orientis and about the proof being stored in Nixon’s drive. None of it he believed for one second. It was just too big a story for his tiny brain to believe. What was more believable was a rogue android taking out authority figures for fun. Every time she repeated the same details and refused to confess she was beaten some more. Their fists will wear out before my chin will, she thought.

And as she predicted he gave up before she did.

On the afternoon of the second day Walt threatened to rip out her wiring if she didn’t give up her story and cough up to the murders. She was about to throw him a sarcastic insult when the door opened and a woman dressed in a suit not too dissimilar to the one she was still wearing, entered.

Steele accessed her database. The facial recognition software she had, instantly told her this was Andrea Tattenbach. She had all the information she needed on her before she’d even dismissed Walt and taken his seat.

Age: 45

Height: Five feet eight inches

Weight: 126 pounds

Hair colour: Red

Eye colour: Green

Appearance: Attractive

“Detective Steele.” Andrea began with confidence, pulling the chair nearer to the table. People with Steele’s reputation obviously didn’t faze her. “It’s an honour to meet such a dedicated police officer on this police force.” She offered a hand for Steele to shake then realised she was handcuffed and withdrew it.

She was trying to play the good cop. She supposed Walt was the bad. A routine well rehearsed in every force worldwide.

“Sorry. Your reputation precedes you I’m afraid. I’m . . .”

“Andrea Tattenbach. Chief of Chicago PD. Top in your year at school, college and university. A grade ‘A’ student. After graduation enlisted in the Chicago Police Department with honours from the academy. You were the fastest officer to rise to the rank of chief of police. A record number of arrests in a twenty two year career. An exemplary officer. Commendations from the president herself.” Steele said almost verbatim from her file. “By your presence here I’m assuming you’ve taken over as chief of Paradise PD. And because I’ve killed two chiefs of police you thought hell she may want to make it three, hence the cuffs. That enough or shall I go through your personal file? Husband, affairs, no kids, messy divorce?”

“I think you’ve painted a vivid picture, thank you.” She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward, but not too close. “Listen Steele, you’ve got one of the best records in the department and I’ll take that into consideration, but things aren’t looking good for you right now.”

So they hadn’t decided yet. What did they want?

“As it stands you’re facing being shut down permanently. That’s death. Do you understand what that means?”

Steele leaned forward a touch. Andrea leaned away quite suddenly, fearing Steele was trying something. She relaxed when she saw this wasn’t true.

“I don’t fear being shut down chief. It’s the living I fear.”

“Yeah, you’ve been through the ringer haven’t you?” She sounded sympathetic. “I’ll offer the same courtesy and spare sharing your personal details.” She paused a moment before resuming. “None of this adds up Steele. There’s no evidence of what you’re telling us. Three of the witnesses are dead and the other scrapped. Mayor Leonard was Leon, then Noel Chandler? And you base this on their names? You can see how this looks.”

“Who’s Philip Quentin, Archibald Graves, William Ortega, Brendon O’Malley, Thomas Herring, Philip Craven and Stephen Osmond? I was arrested for their murders.” Steele wanted to know.

“The men you killed at Archie’s Bar.”

She was being blamed for killing those who preyed on innocent children. Punished for taking out the trash.

“You’re a rogue droid and we can’t have you wandering the streets taking out innocents. You’ve left me with no alternative Steele. You’ll be decommissioned. It’s already been decided. I can’t help you, but you can help us. Where’s Freddy?”

They had decided then.

“He isn’t who you’re looking for!” Steele sprang to her feet. “Leon framed him!”

Andrea stood and walked to the door. “Shut her down.”

Frank, who had been standing quietly to one side, stepped forward and forced Steele back in her seat. He opened up her port. She didn’t want to die after all. She struggled as best she could to prevent him but he was too strong for her.

“It’s Noel Chandler. Maybe more.” She had to try to get through to Andrea. “It’s a sex cult. They’re killing little kids. Look into it. There’ll be more killings. More innocent little girls. You have to believe me. Chief I’m telling the truth. You have to believe . . .”

Steele saw a look in Andrea’s eyes just before it went black. Was it doubt or was it simply pity?