CHAPTER 10
Locke hefted his box, glanced around the office one last time, and met Hiss in front of Homicide. His black automobile was smaller than a limo but it was just as luxurious, having a small three-pointed star on the hood and trunk. Locke let his eyes run over it for a few seconds before opening the door and putting his box on the seat.
“I have been working on this case for almost two years, not long after my partner got killed. I get reassigned once in a while to other cases but the Director keeps allowing me to come back to this one. You are going to see very quickly why he paired us together.” Hiss made a left on Sand Way.
“Where are we going?” Locke asked, noting Hiss’ driving wasn’t as good as the limo driver’s. The automobile swerved between lanes, almost hitting the curb twice.
“There is a warehouse down here I want to show you. I think it is a good way to explain what is going on.”
Making a left on Allen Street, Hiss stopped the automobile in front of a building. Locke knew this area of Gambling City but hadn’t passed through it in many years.
The warehouse, by its appearance, had been built early in the OWG’s existence. In fact, as Locke noticed other buildings on the street, they all seemed around fifty years old. Doors missing, broken windows, weeds seeping through the sidewalks in front, Locke guessed the OWG had moved all the workers from these buildings to new ones once others were built.
Some day, the OWG would refurbish these so even more Goods and Services could be given to the Masses.
Hiss spoke again when they stood in the empty doorway of the building, “A few months before Hamilton killed my partner, we traced cash to Gambling City. See, we all know there are Offenders out there trying to get around the System. You know how cash works?” Hiss rested his body against the doorway.
“The generalities. It’s un-mandated because it can’t be tracked by the System. And if you can’t put something into a computer, those Offenders can make un-mandated transactions behind the OWG’s back,” Locke answered.
“Close enough.” Hiss noticed dirt on his sleeve and brushed it off. “And some of them succeed. Not for long, luckily. But sometimes we find locations where these Offenders hold their cash. But instead of burning it like we used to do, we mark a few bills with World Positioning System devices and leave the cash there. That is how we catch them. Follow me.” Hiss stepped through the doorway into the broken-down warehouse.
The building was 150 feet deep and about 75 feet wide. Holes in the roof allowed rain to come in but any kind of precipitation in Gambling City was rare. But those same holes permitted columns of light to brighten the interior. Dust and dirt covered the concrete-slab floor. Bits of paper, having blown in through all the small openings, swirled in whirlwinds towards the rear. Walls made of rusted steel rose to the rafters.
And it all smelled like a murder scene. Locke guessed a few dead animals were on the premises.
Hiss led him to the middle of the warehouse floor.
“Eventually these Offenders get wise, find the WPS devices, and destroy them but it does give us some insight. Anyway, over two years ago the patterns changed. Cash going North to South started going East to West. Cash being used only on the First Continent started going over the oceans to the other continents. And places like this were being filled up.”
“This warehouse used to be a holding place for cash?” Locke asked, doing a three-sixty to scan every wall.
“Correct. We traced the cash to this location. We entered this building and the cash was stacked in bundles eight feet high from one side to the other.”
“Eight feet?” Locke whistled.
“Yes. And now, it is all gone. Taken out of here under the cover of darkness right around the time Hamilton murdered my partner.”
Locke winced remembering how Hamilton killed Agent Cardon. Then, he caught on to what Hiss just said. “Wait a minute. It would take--”
“It would take more than a few Offenders and one huge, un-mandated vehicle. Yes, I know that, Govicide Agent Locke,” Hiss answered sounding perturbed.
“So, you’re saying—“
“Every location where Hamilton murdered an Agent, there were warehouses like this one. In Gambling City’s case, the cash was here. Hamilton killed my partner. I came back here a week later and the cash was gone. And now all of those warehouses are empty. I had my spies check. All empty. Gone. Disappeared. Hamilton killed an Agent in a city and the cash in that city disappeared about the same time.”
This was complete news to Locke. He thought he knew everything there was to know about all of Hamilton’s murders. Never did he suspect they connected to something else. He heard not one hint of it during his two years on the case.
A hint of anger scraped Locke’s emotions. He should have been told way back then. He might have been able to stop Hamilton before he got to number fourteen.
“Why didn’t I ever hear about this? None of the other Agents mentioned it.” Locke’s toes curled in his brown shoes.
“Govicide Agent Locke, you are only the third subject in the entire OWG to know about it. The Director knows, I know, and now you know. None of those Agents working with you knew.” Hiss wandered toward the rear of the warehouse. “We could not take the chance it would leak and allow Hamilton to know we knew the murders he was committing were connected to cashflow.”
Locke turned to the doorway. “Well, he’s locked up now. Let’s go find out what he knows.”
“We cannot do that, Govicide Agent Locke,” Hiss yelled, the words bouncing off all four walls.
“Why not?” Locke asked, stopping. He forgot all about--
“Well, first of all, the Director has made it very clear that Hamilton is off-limits to all Govicide Agents. And--“
Oh, that. “Even if Hamilton has the answers to this case?” Locke felt his head lean to one side.
“Yes, if the Director mandates it, then his orders cannot be breached,” Hiss answered back.
Locke heard something in the old Agent’s voice. He couldn’t put a finger on it, though.
“But he’s in prison.” Locke pointed in the general direction of Homicide. “It’s not like he can talk to any of his conspirators now.”
Step by step, Hiss cut the distance between the two of them. “Govicide Agent Locke, if Hamilton’s comrades can make the cash in this warehouse disappear, they can make other things happen, too. Like getting in contact with Hamilton.” Hiss stopped less than three feet from Locke.
Locke shook his head so hard he saw stars. “I don’t get it. The System tracks everything. It is supposed to be perfect so--”
“It is perfect, Govicide Agent Locke,” Hiss raised his voice, once again it echoed off the steel panels.
Locke’s arms and legs stiffened like iron rods. His chest felt like a pot of hot water. He was so close. One more statement even coming close to suggesting the System might not be perfect and Locke would have ended his work for Govicide.
He threw water on his internal fire, realizing these un-mandated thoughts were becoming more frequent. These were feelings he never experienced in his first thirty years of existence. But, in the last two days, they’d begun to blossom.
He had to put a leash on them.
“Of course, you know what I mean,” Locke laughed, looking away. “I’m just saying Hamilton and whoever else have been pretty lucky to evade such a perfect System.” The fire inside him died down to a low simmer.
“Yes . . . lucky . . .” The last word from Hiss dropped off a cliff.
Though many emotions flowed through Locke, he still heard something in Hiss’ words that made him pause. He wanted to ask Hiss if there was something Hiss was leaving out. But, he dared not.
Locke set those feelings to the side and tried to re-center the discussion. “How are they moving the cash? Why?”
Hiss circled while looking skyward to the rafters, scratching his goatee. “My guess is they got their hands on some old OWG buses. Removed the tracking devices. Made them look like real ones. And hauled the cash out by the busload. As for why, I have not figured that out yet.”
“It doesn’t seem possible cash could disappear so quickly. Who would accept paper instead of credits?” Locke asked.
“The way it works is they print the cash. It is just really paper cut into smaller pieces with denominations on it. One, two, threes, tens.And it has nothing to do with the System. Say, a donut is one credit. It could be ten units of cash. It makes no sense. Offenders actually accept this stuff. But our concern is that subjects are using it to trade amongst themselves. That is un-mandated. The OWG deserves its credits to be collected because of all it does for us.”
Hiss stopped next to one of the high walls. He peered through a hole in it.
“Are you sure these Offenders didn’t just move the cash somewhere else?Some other warehouse in town?
“No. It is definitely in subjects’ hands now. We are still working on who has it. But, the cash was headed out of town. The WPS’s in the bundles tracked them. The WPS’s batteries died about five hundred miles out of town. They were headed in a northeast direction,” Hiss answered, joining Locke near the doorway.
“Let me guess. That’s where we’re going?”
“Correct. I think the bundles made it the whole way to Dale City, my hometown. We are going there. In fact, the SST leaves in about . . . ”Hiss checked his watch. “ . . . two hours.”
“So soon?”
“Is there a problem?” Hiss must have noticed Locke’s facial expression.
“No, no problem. I think my girlcomrade thought I’d be staying around this area.”
“Govicide Agent Locke--” Hiss reverted to his harsh tone from the prison corridor.
“I get it. I get it,” he held up his hands as if to surrender. “I’ll break it to her . . . gently.”
The two Agents headed toward the doorway. “What exactly were you doing earlier when we met?” Hiss asked right before Locke’s foot hit the sidewalk.
“What do you mean?” Locke stopped.
Hiss passed by him and strode into the sunlight. After watching Hiss for a moment, Locke followed.
“In the prison. You were standing there outside Hamilton’s cell. Did you tell me you were listening to him?” Hiss asked.
“I thought you told me you weren’t interested in what Hamilton had to say?” Locke wondered if this was a trick by Hiss. His mind went on full defense so his mouth wouldn’t get him in any more trouble.
“It occurred to me that we may be able to use his words against him.”
Locke debated if he wanted to delve into the topic again. He decided it was safe. “Yes, I was listening to him,” Locke answered.
“What was he saying?” Hiss rounded to the driver’s side of the automobile but didn’t open his door.
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Locke’s eyes studied the cracked sidewalk, disputing whether he should be truthful. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”
“Try me.” The old Agent tapped on the roof above his door, looking up and down the street.
“He was mumbling. No, that’s--”
Hiss laughed. “No surprise there. He murdered our fellow Agents. Conspiracy with other Offenders or not, he would have to be insane to do that. No wonder he is talking to himself.”
“No, no. He was reciting something. Like he’d read something and memorized it. And there in that cell he was getting comfort . . . ” A pain pierced him between his ribs. “ . . . by reciting those words.”
Where the idea of “comfort” came from, Locke wasn’t sure. He remembered Hamilton’s voice. Its tone.
Quiet, deliberate, almost with a sense of pride, like Locke heard himself and others read out loud from the OWG Manual.
Locke examined his partner, wondering what he was thinking of this.
“What was he reciting? The OWG Manual? The Ten OWG Commandments?” Hiss examined Locke right back.
“No. I couldn’t hear every word but he was saying something about ‘law of nature’ and ‘God’.”
“I have no idea what any of those words mean. Just one more reason on top of the Director’s mandates you should not go near him again. He is an Offender and an insane killer. His words mean nothing.” Hiss opened his door and sat down in the automobile.
Locke opened his as well but didn’t get in right away. Hamilton was a killer. He was an Offender. But his words definitely meant something.
And, quite to the contrary, Locke was beginning to think Hamilton was quite sane.
Just another thought that could get Locke in a lot of trouble.