“Moira, come on,” Laughton said. “You’re worried about how this case will affect the preserve? Help me out.”
Moira’s eyebrows pulled together, and the corners of her mouth dipped slightly. “Smythe was here.”
So that was another reason he would come to town without a business meeting. “Was he here yesterday?”
Moira smiled. “I can give you name, address, date of birth, but for anything more…”
“Moira, you’re making me feel like we’re not on the same side here.”
“If I don’t honor my patients’ privacy, how am I supposed to get them here?”
“So who he might have seen is out of the question? If he saw anyone.”
“Get a subpoena,” Moira said. “I’m sorry.” She sat down on her desk chair.
Laughton considered sitting down on one of the visitors’ chairs to the side of the desk to try to just wait her out, but he didn’t think it likely he would be able to change Moira’s mind. She hadn’t achieved what she’d achieved by being easily swayed. “Can you at least tell me if he participated in the conjugal program or the donor program?”
“Get a subpoena,” she repeated. “I want to help you, but you need to get a subpoena.”
He didn’t think it would be a problem to get one, but it was frustrating and annoying. This felt like the best lead yet, or at least one that was more likely than unraveling the illegal sims trade. That was a loose thread on a sweater; pulling on it would unravel the whole thing. This was a pair of gloves: because it was personal, it would fit. “We both know I’ll have the paperwork within the hour. Can’t you save me some time?”
She simply smiled.
“I’ll be back,” he said, and turned to go.
“Make sure the paperwork allows you to access the relevant information of other patients.”
Moira also hadn’t accomplished what she’d accomplished without being practical.
“Thank you,” Laughton said. “At least I know I won’t be wasting my time.”
“See you soon.”
“Soon,” Laughton said. He went back down the hall and hit the release button on the wall to disengage the magnetic lock. In the waiting area, Kir was leaning on the desk with a wry smile, saying something to Jamie. They both looked at Jesse as he rounded the desk.
“Your partner—”
“Ex-partner,” Laughton said.
“Was just telling me about when Erica was born, that you and Betty had wanted a human midwife, but there were none available.”
“Listen, Jamie,” he said, trying to strike a casual tone, “Moira said Smythe came in, but she couldn’t remember if he saw only one person or if it was a few.”
Before Jamie could even register the question, the word “Liberty” from the television caught the attention of all three of them. It was one of the few preserve channels that broadcast out of Charleston, news anchor Kara Letts. The closed captions that were popping up one word at a time in little black bars said, “Again, a body was found behind the Kramer’s Supermarket in Liberty late yesterday. The Charleston Police and the HHS had a joint press conference this morning…”
The phone in Laughton’s pocket buzzed, two quick pulses that meant he’d received a text message. That would be the commissioner, no doubt.
Jamie looked at him. “Is it true?” she said.
He nodded once. “It’s true.”
She shook her head without even realizing she was doing it. “That’s why you’re here,” she said to Kir.
“It is,” he said.
Laughton felt guilty trying to take advantage of her distress, but he was now in even more of a rush. He repeated, “Moira said Smythe came in, but she couldn’t remember who he saw.”
Jamie’s mouth went sideways and her eyes narrowed, replacing her concern with caution. “Why do I think I still shouldn’t tell you?”
It had been worth a try. “No problem,” he said, making it sound like it really was no problem. “Have Betty call me when she gets in.”
He had his phone out as he went through the front door, and was surprised to find the text was from Dunrich. It said “Call now.” Dunrich would have to wait a minute. Laughton needed to get his damn subpoena first.
The phone buzzed in his hand. Mathews. “Laughton,” he said, answering it.
“Are the tech guys supposed to be human?” Mathews said.
“I would think so,” he said.
“What is it?” Kir said.
“Because a car pulled up across the street. Two guys in it, but they’re not getting out, so I tried a facial scan from here for the one that’s closer, and it’s a bad angle and at a distance, but, files say robot.”
“That doesn’t mean shit with a crappy angle.”
“Why are they just sitting in the car?”
Laughton didn’t even want to consider how there could be robots on the house. “Sit tight,” he said. “Wait for the real techs, and keep an eye on the guys in the car.”
“And if they try to come in?”
“Alert me if they even move.”
“Okay, Chief,” Mathews said, but it didn’t sound like it was okay.
“Hang tight,” Laughton said. “And send me a visual.”
Mathews hung up.
“What is it?” Kir said.
The phone buzzed, and Laughton opened up the photo. “These guys mean anything to you?” He held out the phone to Kir.
“Where is this?” Kir said.
“Outside Sam and Smythe’s place.”
“Those are off-the-shelf faces,” Kir said.
Robots. “Shit.”
“Titanium has a few working for him, but it’s impossible to know if these are the ones.”
“They’re on the preserve, it doesn’t matter who they work for.”
“I forwarded it to the secretary,” Kir said. “She’ll tell me what she wants to do.”
“What the fuck, Kir? You don’t ask me first?”
“Like you told Jamie,” Kir said, “we’re ex-partners.”
“So you’re ‘the man’ now?” he said.
“I’m ‘the man,’ ” the robot answered with no hint of a smile.
“Because, if we’re working together, I need to know you’re not broadcasting everything. Otherwise, you can get off now.”
Kir was silent, his robot face impassive in a way that was inhuman. “You’re right. It won’t happen again.”
“How do I know?”
“Because I’m telling you.”
Laughton tried to fight the feeling Kir would be sending everything back to Pattermann, and to remember who he was dealing with. He thought back to Erica’s birth. Kir had come to the hospital, and had been the first to hold Erica other than Betty, Jesse, and the medical staff. The expression on Kir’s face had been completely human—if he had been able to cry, he would have. The memory made Jesse’s eyes sting. “All right,” he said. “And if there is shit that’s ‘need to know,’ I need to know.”
“Jesse, if you need to know, I’ll tell you. I promise.”