“Okay, now that is interesting,” Jones conceded. “Isn’t that the same industrialist Tycho just connected with the human trafficking?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” I nodded. “Rosenstein said his human trafficking connections all worked for Kote.”
“Then we’re finally getting somewhere on this damn case!” Andrea sat up. “Huxley had memories of Kote?”
“Yes.” Thomas ran his hand through his hair. “Julian Huxley’s memories indicate that Huxley and Kote met regularly prior to Huxley’s transition to his new body.”
“Just playing devil’s advocate here,” Andrew interjected, “but they were both really rich. Don’t rich people usually hang out with each other? Fundraisers, charity events, and so on?”
“Broadly speaking, yes.” Thomas’s tone of voice was disdainful. Though, to be fair, his tone of voice was usually disdainful. “But they still have their own circles, even if those circles occasionally overlap. Are you assuming I wouldn’t have checked that?”
“I can’t believe you had the time,” Raven muttered.
Thomas turned to her. “Of course I did. I made the time. Otherwise, what value could this report have had?”
“Well, don’t keep us in suspense!” Jones stretched his legs out and put his hands behind his head. “Are they in the same circles, or aren’t they?”
“Statistically, they are not. Under regular circumstances, they would run into each other socially only once every five years or so. Essentially, their business and social interests were unrelated.”
“And how often were they actually meeting?” asked Andrea.
“At least a few times every year. Face to face meetings, not random encounters. On the occasions requiring them both to be at the same public event, they don’t seem to have spoken with each other at all.”
“So these were secret meetings?” asked Veraldi.
“‘I’m not certain,” Thomas answered, “but they were certainly discreet. Huxley would bring along the bare minimum of staff and meet Kote at places Kote himself selected.”
“Like what?” I asked. “Restaurants? Theaters?”
“Like this ship, as far as I can tell. In any case, Huxley seems to have seen the ship in person, and that’s something not many people can say.”
“Kote is a secretive person?” asked Andrea.
Thomas nodded. “Yes. Almost pathologically so. If Huxley’s memories had not provided the clue, I would never have realized the ship docked at Llyr Station had any potential connection to our case. Looking into it, though, the connection is obvious. The shell company’s links to Kote were not hard to ferret out. The company is the owner of record for the ship, and Kote’s name is on the original incorporation paperwork of the company.”
“Hold on a second,” said Raven. “Are you seriously telling me you looked all that up as well?”
He looked slightly confused. “Of course. How else would I know it?”
Raven shook her head in disbelief. “Never mind…”
Andrea stepped in. “So, let’s review. A shell company founded by David Kote owns that ship, and Huxley may have seen the ship and used it to meet with Kote.”
“That’s the essence of it, yes. I don’t know why you’d reduce it down like that, but yes.”
Vincenzo Veraldi steepled his hands in front of his face, deep in thought. “I think it’s significant,” he said at last. “I think we should hit the ship.”
“Kote is a lot more than just a random rich person,” Andrea pointed out. “If we hit that ship, we’re going to need an airtight legal justification. Or we’re going to need to go in hard.”
“Go in hard?” I asked. “You mean kill everyone on the ship?”
“If necessary, yes.” She nodded. “I’m not willing to lose any more agents over this case if there’s anything I can do about it. But if we go in there with the right coverage, we may not even have to kill any of them.”
“You’re talking about the Section 3 option?” Veraldi asked.
Andrea smiled. “Exactly. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Ages. We may need to fill Tycho in, though.”
“Oh, I think I’ve got the gist of it,” I said. “Section 3 of Sol Federation Intelligence is responsible for investigating interplanetary crime. So you go in there with some fake Section 3 credentials and arrest the guy.”
“Close,” replied Andrea. “Section 3 is an intelligence unit. They don’t have arrest powers. The actual arrest would have to be carried out by your old buddies.”
I didn’t know why this had never occurred to me before, but now that I thought about it, I could remember two or three occasions when Section 3 intelligence agents had accompanied Gabe and me on an especially sensitive arrest. Had those really been Section 3 agents, or Section 9 agents pretending to be something they weren’t?
“Same picture, different view.”
“How’s that?” asked Andrea.
“Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter.”
“That’s the spirit, Tycho.” She smiled, and I got the impression she knew exactly what I was thinking about.
I finished drinking my coffee and checked in with myself to see how I was feeling. I concluded that I was doing surprisingly well considering how much I’d had to drink at the Emerald City the night before. Raven had wanted to stay out dancing, and I didn’t really want to dance. That left me only one option, which was to sit at my booth and down one cocktail after another while I watched her. That was what her comment about me being a beast had been all about. By the time we got done, she’d had to help me stand up on our way back to the safehouse.
“How do we know this ship is going to stay where it’s docked?” Veraldi asked.
Thomas shrugged. “We don’t. If we move on this, we have to do it quickly. Too slow and we could be chasing this ship all over the solar system for years before we get another chance to search it.”
Andrea stood up. “I’ll get in touch with the Operator for a warrant. Tycho, can you get in touch with your old crew and get them to coordinate with us?”
I wasn’t a wanted fugitive, but I had killed a member of the Arbiter Force. How did Capanelli possibly expect me to do this? They would sooner want me dead.
“Relax, Tycho.” Raven put a hand on my arm. “You’ll have a fake ID. Section 3, remember?”
Andrea looked stricken. “Shit, Tycho, I forgot about your situation there. I’m sorry. Yeah, we can come up with a fake ID for you, but if you want someone else to do it instead—”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it. It’s just kind of a challenge.”
“Maybe not the best sort of challenge for a hangover day.” Raven grinned. “I can do it, Tycho, it’s no problem.”
“No, no.” I shook my head. “I’ll do it, I know what they’ll be looking for better than anyone else here.”
“Good man,” said Vincenzo—probably the closest thing to a compliment he’d given me since Mars.