Chapter 7: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished 3: Bad Options
In the mail subcenter for Floors Forty-One through Fifty of the Shinra Tower, Veld and Tseng searched through all the mailers in all the bins on all thirteen carts.
Nothing.
The mailer with the porno had seemingly vanished.
The mail room workers couldn't help them further. They only shrugged to Veld's vague questions about undeliverable mail and told him the standard procedure: if it wasn't claimed in one month, it would be destroyed. They again informed Veld that he was welcome to search as much as he wanted through the mail, but they really needed to get to their rounds. They loaded sorted mail onto other carts and went out to deliver it to the various cube farms, leaving Veld and Tseng alone in the mail subcenter.
Tseng suggested, "We could get the names of all the employees who work in mail collection and distribution and question them."
It wasn't the first time Veld had considered and rejected the idea over the past hour, and he shook his head. "No, we should keep this particular operation quiet. If Turks start interrogating personnel about undeliverable mail, no matter how subtly, rumors will fly and half the company will start looking for our missing package just to find out what's got us so interested. Like some damned treasure hunt." He couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice, nor his disappointment in himself for failing so spectacularly to complete such a simple task as destroying a dirty magazine.
"And someone might actually find it," Tseng added.
"Thank you, Tseng. That's very helpful." As though that weren't one of his top worries at the moment.
Tseng raised an offended eyebrow.
Veld immediately scolded himself. It wasn't Tseng's fault. He shouldn't take his frustration out on his subordinate. "I apologize for that. It's not anything to do with you. I'm angry with myself for breaking the chain of possession."
"Understandable. You expect the best from all of us, including yourself." Tseng tilted his head. "Which makes perfect sense, because we are the best. What is our next move?"
"Keep eyes and ears on Floor Fifty. It's possible that the mailer slid under some furniture or a cabinet in the vicinity of the...collision." Veld appropriated Tseng's own polite terminology for the accident that had caused him to fall on his ass. "Let's go check that out now. We might get lucky."
They did not get lucky. They found nothing but dust bunnies under the cabinets, behind freestanding shelves, and on the floors of the nearest cubes. For good measure they spent another couple hours walking through all the cube farms, conference rooms, and utility rooms on the floor, checking every mailer they spotted. No one who worked in the area had any expectation of privacy in their workspace, so they freely opened drawers and checked overhead storage, picking locks as needed. They even checked restrooms.
No mailer containing a porn magazine turned up.
They checked everywhere except the offices belonging to Heidegger and his favorite flunkies. Not even Veld would go that far, though really, his problem would be solved if the mailer somehow landed on Heidegger's desk. Those were the real orders, anyway. But in that case, Veld told himself, Hewley's problems would begin, and the whole point of the exercise was to prevent those problems from occurring.
Damn, damn, damn his inconvenient conscience.
"Perhaps it will end up in dead mail eventually and be destroyed after four weeks, as per official policy," Tseng suggested. "Someone may find it and drop it in the company mail."
Veld rubbed his temple in response to his growing headache. "Sooner or later, someone will notice it has no sender or recipient and check inside for clues. What happens after that is anyone's guess, but people sharing it around the office is not out of the question. It might be best if whoever finds it simply steals it and takes it home. Maybe it'll end up in recycling when they're done with it. That's assuming they don't recognize its star feature and try to sell the damned thing. That goes for our hypothetical finder as well as the mail workers."
Tseng inclined his head, having no response. They both knew that was exactly what would happen.
"We'll keep close watch on Floor Fifty," Veld repeated, "using the surveillance cameras so we don't spook anyone. We'll also monitor all the usual channels electronically for any signs of sale or bragging. We should also install some cameras in the various mail subcenters in case someone does drop it into the mail. If that magazine surfaces anywhere, we'll find it. That's all we can do for now."
Then, still feeling remorse and shame for his own failure, Veld bowed formally to his subordinate. "I am sorry for my failure, Tseng, and the trouble I have created for you. I am your superior and should not have failed at my simple task, and deeply apologize."
Tseng bowed back. "There is no trouble." His expression was as calm as ever, but his eyes showed his appreciation for the token of respect Veld had given him.
Veld nodded. A formal apology, all was forgiven, and they could move on. Veld would have hated for this stupid situation to create a rift with Tseng.