((Note to self: While music usually helps me write, Rammstein doesn't. I just stare at the screen and zone out. I can't let it wash over me. I can let the War Requiem wash over me, however. Well. Parts of it. Huh.

The chapter heading is a line from Crush With Eyeliner by R.E.M. Oh, and my Spanish is practically non-existent.))


Chapter 19

Three Miles of Bad Road

Adam and Fabian left for Aberdeen the next day after lunch. According to Fabian, anything earlier wouldn't go down well with the guy they'd visit first. Abigail didn't exactly question the statement that Adam would help with a problem at one of the shelters Fabian visited regularly, but it was clear that she suspected something was going on. Fabian drove, giving Adam time to consider what good this could possibly do other than soothe their nerves because they were at least doing more than wait.

Abigail had reached her lawyer the night before and he had told him that the papers from the hospital should help sort out the problem very quickly, ID or no. He was certain that since Francis was unable to identify himself they would have scanned his biochip, and that was more than sufficient. How quickly remained to be seen, but such clear evidence would force them to act fast. In Adam's experience it should take at the most 24 hours from when Abigail had made her call. No-one wanted the problems it could cause to keep someone in custody when they were clearly innocent.

Fabian halted at a rundown restaurant on the outskirts of the town. 'Before we go, I should let you know something.' Adam raised an eyebrow. 'It's like this. I fucked up. I think I talked to the murderer and I gave him information.'

'Go on.'

'He called and claimed he was doing a survey and did I have a moment. He said he was from the home office. That actually makes sense, they do sometimes call out lot. He said they wanted to get an idea augments and poverty since the incident and a feel of the mood. He asked a number of questions, most of them … nothing significant. But he wanted to know how many augmented people there were in the homeless shelters and going on the game, whose augs are most frequent, as in, which company's. I told him. I told him that in the outer city homeless shelters there's a lot of augs and in prostitution, too. More than natches there.'

'What makes you think this wasn't a real survey?'

Fabian bit his lower lip. 'I don't know. He sounded off. I recorded the call, though. I can't do anything with it, but maybe Francis can trace it. I didn't ask him because I wanted to keep him out of this mess. But I guess it's too late for that now. Aside from my sense of wrongness … The questions became weird. Like what I think they'd do if promised neuropozyne. I told him nothing because the social workers were keeping them supplied. Someone from the home office knows that, Adam. He went on like that, as in, how could you buy them or manipulate them. And a little while later, the entire mess started.'

Adam sighed. 'Okay. If you hadn't told him, he'd have found his information elsewhere.'

'Still. I'm responsible for these people, Adam. I'm responsible for the dead ones.'

'How long have you been a social worker?'

'Eleven years.' He shook his head. 'It's … draining, sometimes. Some days I feel that I make a difference. Mostly, though … And then I go and help a murderer.'

'I knew people in the Detroit vice squad. They said about the same thing. That it's draining. Piece of advice, Fabian. If it starts eating you, run like hell. I've seen enough people break because they cared too much.'

'Thanks. Not going to happen. But you needed to know that. I needed you to.'

'Understood.'

'Let's go. Sergio's waiting for us.'

Adam left the car and fell into step beside Fabian. 'So where are we going, exactly?'

'First, a homeless shelter. Then we'll visit another guy I've been working with. He's really nice, has called me a couple of times to sort out a conflict before it turns violent. He called me before I was pulled out of the operation, said he knew something that might help.'

'How do you make it to Aberdeen so fast?'

'Not at all. He used to be in Westhill, but there was too little business so he moved to Aberdeen a couple of months ago.'

'What does a businessman need with a social worker?'

Fabian looked at him squarely. 'Depends on what business you're in, Adam.'

'Oh.'

'We're there. Listen up. Can you try looking less like a cop?'

'You too? Sorry. I've left my not-a-cop-badge at home.'

'You could at least try to smile.'

'Like that?' Adam gave him a Cheshire grin.

Fabian laughed. 'Yeah. That looks more like lunatic than cop. A lot better.' He walked into the shelter, Adam in his wake. He greeted the woman at the front desk, who gave him a toothless smile, and led the way up to the third floor (which was numbered 2, of course), where he knocked on a door. A young man opened the door. His eyes bored immediately in to Adam's. 'He's my friend,' Fabian told him.

'Se parece a un policía.'

Fabian smiled at him. 'No se preocupe. Él quiere ayudar, Sergio. And please, do speak English. We both know you can. It's not very nice to exclude him.'

'Help with what?' Sergio asked. He had an audible accent, more than Fabian, who sounded almost like a native except that he didn't have the Scottish colouring.

'I want to find who is kidnapping people,' Adam told him.

'But we don't know that. None of us is prepared to risk ending up dead like those poor guys. And Fabian told us not to trust anyone and how to tell real from fake cops.'

'Now I'd like to know that, too,' Adam said.

Fabian smiled faintly. 'Generally, the real ones forward their IDs, and with very few exceptions they let you call at the station to verify that they're actually supposed to be there. Especially since the kidnappings, they get that people are scared, and they're aware it's not without reason. So if the police come here, my advice to the front desk was to make a call. Not that I think our guy is getting his victims from in here. He picks them off the streets, out of the drain.' He frowned. 'Sergio, I wondered. Did Kaleigh and Reg remember anything?'

'Nah. Still blubbering about monsters.' The young man's eyes became pained. 'Reg tried to rip the leg out.'

'Jesus. Is he all right?'

'They brought him to hospital.'

'What hospital?' Adam asked.

Sergio hesitated and glanced at Fabian, who nodded briefly. 'Aberdeen Royal Infirmary,' Sergio said at last.

'Remind me to call them when we leave, Fabian. I need to tell them something.'

'Okay.' Fabian rubbed his neck. 'Shit. I hoped since our mutual friend remembered that these two might also … Damn it.' He nodded to Sergio. 'If anything comes to mind, anything at all, call me.'

'¿Estás investigando oficialmente otra vez?'

Fabian smiled at Sergio, extended his hand and they shook. 'No. Estoy por mi cuenta. Thanks, Sergio. Anything else going on?' Sergio's eyes went to Adam. 'He's fine. I told you.'

'Markian and David got in a fight last night. It was … bad. Now Markian's hurt, but Katarina sent a doctor over after someone called her over. David's gone, though. But I don't think he's been kidnapped, he ran.'

'Did you call the police?'

'Oh, come on.'

'Call them. Please, Sergio. Are there witnesses?'

'Yeah. Me and I think Merve. I wish you'd move to Aberdeen. I could've used you and your golden tongue.'

'Silver tongue,' Fabian said with a smile. 'Sorry, I'm staying out of the city. You need to trust the local lot. They're doing great work.'

'I know.'

'Promise me to call the cops.' Adam could feel the social enhancer come to life. 'Come on, Sergio. It's dangerous out there. I know you are friends with them both, but if David doesn't come here, he might get seriously hurt. You don't want that.'

'No.' Sergio looked at his feet. 'I'll call them. I promise.'

Ϡ

On the way to the hustler's place, Fabian seemed lost in his own thoughts. Adam called the hospital and asked them to keep an eye on the injured aug from the homeless shelter and not to transfer him anywhere else because the person abducting and butchering people might want to silence him. They seemed to agree.

Fabian's contact went by the name Lancelot. He was tall, muscular, and Adam estimated his age at around thirty. He greeted Fabian with a hug and Adam with a handshake. 'Haven't seen you in ages,' he said. 'Wish it was a social call.'

'I promise, I'll make good for it. But now I need to know what you wanted to tell me.'

'It's like this … when you first asked me if I had seen or heard anything, I found the way you asked so weird. As if it was only just natches going missing. But then you were off across the sea and I thought you couldn't or wouldn't look into it further. And I don't believe the police are going to get anything done.'

Fabian had listened with his arms folded. 'What do you mean, as if it was only natches? I didn't realise augmented people had vanished, too.'

'The first were all augs, Fabian. And we told the police that, but they thought the two things weren't connected. It wasn't their kidnappers M.O. Partly because those augs didn't come back, other than the natches. I bet you a year's supply of nupoz that you'll find them in that pile of corpses.'

Adam tried to push the mental image away. 'Our killer salvaged their hardware and modified it. That answers a lot of questions.'

'Can you do that?' Fabian asked.

'If you have the knowhow. Fabian … what are the prevalent companies you find on the people here?'

'Mostly N-Pro Tech, of course. Second among the older augs is Sarif Industries. TYM wasn't all that popular here. That's probably why they had to defame the competition.'

'That explains why there was at least one victim in Detroit. Our perp must have tried out if there was a fundamental difference between their chips and yours here.'

'Does that help you at all? Knowing that this creature took augmented guys?'

'It answers the question how he supplied himself. I did wonder if he had an accomplice who stole material for him from old storages. Like this, he wouldn't need anyone. Hang on, infolink. Must be Abigail.'

For a few seconds there was only static. Then he heard Francis, loud and clear and resolute. 'Jensen, are you still there? God, I can barely uphold the connection yet. Look, I need a ride. If you can't or … well … If you can't pick me up, please ask Abi. I'm at the police station. The one you know. I … hope I'll see you soon. Pritchard out.'

Adam saw the concern on Fabian's face. He schooled his expression into something less stricken, even though he couldn't keep the smile from his face entirely. 'Fabian, are we done? Because Francis just called. We can bring him home.'