CHAPTER EIGHT

I grabbed a quick bite to eat at the restaurant in the Pearl's lobby. Salmon steak and fried oysters. Paid up my check, and made my way to the Atlantic Express. As new and quick as the bathyspheres were, they were a pain to operate and even worse were the accidents. I only used them when I absolutely needed. Fortunately, the ride out to where I hoped to find this Cat was only a few stops on the Express. Unfortunately, I didn't make it all the way there.

The next stop after Siren's Alley, two plainclothes security officers hopped on board, grabbed me, and the next thing I knew, we were on a one-way trip to Neptune's Bounty. I recognized the two. Sullivan hadn't been kidding, there weren't many police, and definitely not many good police. This pair of mouth-breathers, Acey and Deucy, were perfect examples of that. I had no idea what their real names were. They were light on the police work and heavy on hand-delivering any special orders direct from the Chief, and of course, playing a whole lot of acey-deucy.

We landed on the upper wharf and made our way to a building overlooking the lower. I was still wearing my best ten-dollar suit, and I still stuck out like a Zulu in Chinatown, but for a completely different reason. The working-class folks in Neptune's wouldn't be caught in clothes like that even on the day they were flushed out a hatch to sea. Once we got upstairs, we found an empty office that wasn't so empty. It had been filled with telescopes, field glasses, photogramatry machines, and endless notes and charts. One other police deck-walker, John Abernathy, was on watch, from the look of things. I pulled myself over to the telescope for a look.

"Do we honestly think Fontaine is so dull-minded he'll drop his candy out in the open for everyone to see?" I asked.

Abernathy gave me a tired look, and leaned his chair back. "I don't think so at all, but don't tell me to think on the watch bill. Just saying I needs to keep watch, so I is."

The office was directly overlooking the main offices of Fontaine Fisheries and the docks where his submarines departed on their underwater fishing runs. As stakeout spots went, it couldn't be better, but experience had taught me surveillance wasn't everything.

I glanced back at Acey and Deucy, not remembering which was which. They gestured to the equipment, and the crewcut on the right said, "Officer Abernathy's about finished his watch for the day. You're next on the watchlist. Four hour shifts." Immediately after he shut his mouth, it seemed to disappear into the mass of his fleshy face.

"And here I forgot my prescription glasses," I said.

"If you require additional equipment, we will retrieve it for you from security force headquarters," the other high-and-tight yipped.

"No, no, this will be fine. You busters got me farmed up good here," I said. No doubt Sullivan had sent them to keep me in line. "I appreciate the pick-up and your dedication to the watchlist."

"We boldly turn our eyes to the price," he said. Great, now he's quoting the Rapture anthem at me. Next he'll start reciting Hayek chapter and verse.

"To crush the parasites despised," I replied with a smile. I wondered how hard it would be to kill them both right here and flush them off the wharf. Probably shouldn't. I didn't know if Abernathy would go for it, and there didn't seem to be any pressing reason to kill him. At least, for the time being.

I waved off the goon squad, and told Abernathy he was end of watch for the day. Hopefully, that would mean he went straight home instead of back to headquarters. The three left me alone, and I settled into the lonely reverie of reconnaissance.

An hour into wondering what had gone so wrong with my life, I noticed something out of place. That's not exactly right. I noticed some one out of place. Several someones. There were a group of three women heading into the main offices. They were dressed to the nines, straight out of the New Eden high fashion shops. It might have been a coincidence, but probably not, they were all redheads. Mid-twenties. Each of them could have been sisters with Dana Wales, which, as far as I knew, they were. And I thought I had stuck out. I felt such a shock pumping through me, I actually checked to make sure one of the electricity wires on the equipment wasn't touching a leaky pipe. It had happened before. Fontaine was involved.

I tried my best to follow the women through the building, but they weren't keeping near any of the windows and I couldn't see them. About ten minutes after seeing them enter, the lights in one of the top-floor offices went out. Another kind of leaky pipe, I suspected. Still, with nothing to see and nothing to do, I couldn't keep my eyes peeled for hours like they do in the movie serials. I knew the best thing to do would be watch for motion, but not wear out my peepers. I picked up Abernathy's log book. He had kept meticulous notes of comings and going since he had been on watch which was – I flipped to the start of his handwriting – almost twenty-four hours prior. Fat chance I was sticking around that long.

I went through line by line, and three days before, around the same time, there was a logged sighting that fit the bill. "Three women. Redheads. Likely hookers. Expensive." About ninety minutes later another log line. "Hookers depart." Never underestimate the literary prowess of the Ryan Security Force.

Checking my watch, I saw ninety minutes was almost up. I picked up the field glasses again, and trained them on the unlit top-floor offices with curtains drawn. It was still only late afternoon. Perfect time for Fontaine and his top executives to catch some action and still be home to the missus in time for dinner. Right on the money, the three redheads departed, looking a little worse for wear. I bounced out of the chair and took the stairs two-at-a-time.

The girls were in line at the Atlantic Express. Say what you will about mass transportation, it made some sense for cities, and it made a police's life so much easier. Standing behind them with a few people in between us waiting for the train, I could just about make out what they were saying. Remind me to never speak ill of a Chatty Kathy, either. They said they were headed to Fort Frolic.