“Did he talk to you about sims, about people he worked with, names, places, anything?”
“I know Sam, of course”—she shook her head—“but otherwise, he never did more than allude to his work. Usually he sounded distant, and I knew he was just waiting until he could get off the phone.”
“When you talked to him last, did he seem like he expected something coming up?”
“No. Like I said, I could barely get him to talk most of the time. I just liked to know he was still okay,” she said, and her voice broke, her face flooded with the pain she’d been suppressing. “I’m all alone now,” she said, her voice tight and high-pitched.
“I’m sorry to put you through this,” he said. He knew that was trite, but it was what you said. He gave her a moment to come back to their conversation, but she was lost in a memory.
“Have you spoken to Sam?”
She shook her head, suppressing her tears, unable to speak. He wasn’t going to get any more out of her. Living on the other side of the country, she didn’t know anything anyway.
“If you think of anything else—”
“Had they really cut open his arm?” she said, almost a hiccough.
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them again, she was more centered. “Carl would have hated that,” she said. “He always thought he was weak for keeping it, that he should be true to his beliefs and live without an arm and leg, but”—and she smiled a knowing smile—“it’s hard to live with a disadvantage. It’s hard enough for us orgos as it is.”
The self-pity made Laughton uncomfortable. “Thank you for calling, Miss Smythe.”
“Find who did this. And I hope to god it was a robot. The last thing we need are orgos killing each other.”
Laughton didn’t want to get pulled into a political discussion. “Okay, then. I will. We’ll keep you posted.”
“Okay.”
“Goodbye.”
He hit the end button. The station phone was already ringing, but it cut off as Dunrich answered it out in the main room.
“Not much better than Enright,” Kir said.
“It’s like these guys were a pair of recluses,” Laughton said. He heard the sound of the officer’s chair sliding back, and then Dunrich looked in his office. “That was Marni, across the street at the Liberty Tavern. Caleb Mathieson got drunk and pulled a knife.”
“Goddamn it. Was anyone hurt?”
“He wasn’t even fighting with anyone. Just pulled the knife and waved it around. I’m going over to pick him up.”
“Fine. Okay.”
“Figured I’d just take him home.”
“Works for me,” Laughton said.
Dunrich nodded, then paused, seeming on the verge of saying something, but he didn’t like something about the way the chief looked, and in the end backed out of the office in silence.
Feeling guilty, the chief called him back.
Dunrich looked in.
“Good work before,” he said. “With the hacker. See if you can find Bobby Enright when you’re done with Caleb.”
Dunrich nodded, his features softening. He left without saying anything more.
Idiot Caleb Mathieson. Pulled shit like this at least once a week. Someday somebody’s going to get hurt. If only Farrah would hold him in check, but she was drunk out of her mind half the time too. She just liked to do her drinking in private.
Despite his frustration with the Mathiesons, Laughton wished that he was the one going down to pick up Caleb, to go back to that being the biggest event of the day. He wished he could just turn over this homicide to someone else. He’d left Baltimore to get away from catching bodies.
Kir said, “What do you want to do now?”
“I want to get in bed,” Laughton said.
Kir didn’t respond.
“I should probably eat something,” Laughton said.
The outer door banged open. “Chief!”
“I’m in here,” Laughton called.
“Chief.” Mathews appeared in the doorway. He pulled up when he saw Kir.
“Mathews, Kir; Kir, Mathews. He was my partner in Baltimore.”
Mathews held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he said.
Kir shook. “Likewise.”
Mathews said, “Those women you sent me to interview didn’t know anything. They’d each met Smythe only once. One of them couldn’t even really remember him at all. She kept saying, ‘Are you sure? The guy that was killed? Are you sure?’ ”
No surprises there. Nobody knew these guys. “How’d the tech guys make out at the house?”
Mathews shook his head. “They said it could be days before they could find anything. They were actually pretty excited about it.”
“And the robots?” Kir said. “The ones staking out the place?”
“They took off when the tech boys showed up.”
“Did you get their plate?”
“Didn’t match the model they were in.”
“Of course not,” Laughton said.
“What do you want me to do?” Mathews said. “Where’s Dunrich?”
“Taking Caleb Mathieson home.”
“I guess life goes on,” Mathews said.
“That it does,” Laughton said.
The outer door banged open again. “Chief!”
“Jesus, what is this?” Laughton said. “Yeah, I’m in here,” he called.
Mathews had to squeeze farther into the room to allow Dunrich to come in. “He responded, Chief,” Dunrich said.
Who? Laughton thought for a second, then said, “The hacker.”
“Crisper,” Dunrich said, waving his phone like he was holding the man right there.
Then a face peeked over Dunrich’s shoulder. “Hiya, Jesse,” the man said.
“Jesus, Dunrich, I thought you were taking Caleb home.”
“But then this came in, and I thought…”
“Hey, are you a—” Caleb said to Kir, who answered, “Yes.”
“You got a robot on the Preserve, Jesse?” Caleb said.
“Get him out of here, Dunrich.”
“But Crisper. Willing to meet in person in Beaufort in an hour. I thought I could go.”
“No, you’re not going to go. You’re going to take Caleb home. Like you were supposed to. Mathews, go with him.” Let Dunrich be Mathews’s problem for a little while, Laughton thought. “See if you can find Bobby Enright. Robert. His wife was having a relationship with Smythe. But he supposedly didn’t know about it, so if you can sound him out without telling him…”
“Right,” Mathews said.
“You.” Laughton pointed at Dunrich. “Text me the details. I’m going to see the hacker.”
“You all know there’s a robot right here,” Caleb Mathieson said. “There’s a robot on the fucking Preserve.”
“Get him out of here,” Laughton said.
Mathews started walking toward the door, forcing Dunrich and Mathieson back. “Come on. Come on.”
Dunrich looked like he was almost going to cry as he was shuffled out of the office. “This was my lead, Chief. You should let me come.”