“Maybe that professor does know something,” Leif muttered grimly. “They’re probably getting us together now to soften the blow when Steadman’s report comes out.” Now he wished that no one had told him the nickname attached to the head of Net Force Internal Affairs. “Hangman Hank” didn’t sound like a joke anymore.
Leif barely picked at his dinner that evening.
“Are you feeling all right?” his mother asked.
“Just things on my mind,” Leif replied. Tonight was the night Once Around the Clock came on. Maybe today Captain Winters — and all the Net Force Explorers — would be lucky. Maybe Tori Rush would find a new target.
Of course, that dream was doomed from the start. Tori Rush was right up there in the first half of the show, trumpeting the damning findings of the as-yet-unreleased Net Force Internal Affairs report.
What a surprise that it should be leaked to her, Leif thought coldly. I wonder if newsdiva Tori got the report through her own connections, or did I-on hack it out of the Net Force computers in time for her to get it on this evening’s broadcast?
If the rogue investigators had hacked the report, that left them open to criminal charges. That illegal act would make a nice lead-off to the revelation that Tori — the supposedly pure and untarnished journalist — was hiring detectives to do her dirty work for her. It might even splash all over the media with a newsworthy bang.
The only problem was, it wouldn’t do a single thing to get James Winters off the hook. As Matt Hunter had heard from Agent Dorpff, I.A. had assembled a damaging, if circumstantial, case against Captain Winters. These days the whole world knew Winters had a motive for killing Stefano the Bull. He apparently had the opportunity — and no alibi. The tagging chemicals from the bomb that destroyed Alcista’s car and its occupant had also been discovered in the captain’s garage workshop.
But the worst part was the practice bomb. For one thing, it made Winters look like a cold-blooded killer, carefully tailoring the blast to get the best — or was that the worst? — out of it. As David had pointed out, the very existence of a test blast before Alcista’s murder and before the story was all over the national media made it unlikely that Winters was being framed for murder after the fact by someone who’d seen the various broadcasts. So it wouldn’t help to accuse Tori Rush of hiring detectives who provided evidence on demand.
Unless, Leif thought, the person who framed Winters was also the person who killed Alcista. Call him or her X, the mystery murderer. Who could it be? A tremendously wily organized-crime hit person? A former spy turned assassin? That led nowhere, or rather in too many directions at once. Try motive instead — why would someone do what had been done?
Had the captain been cold-bloodedly chosen as a convenient scapegoat by the real murderer? That could work. Suppose one of Alcista’s former associates didn’t want him pushing back into the business? It would be quite convenient to hand over James Winters to take the blame. It might even be satisfying. Winters had undoubtedly busted a number of mob types in his career. Maybe one of them set him up as payback.
It didn’t even have to be a professional hit, Leif realized. There were probably lots of other people out there who hadn’t been delighted to see Steve the Bull loose on the streets again. After all, the guy prided himself on breaking legs and killing people. Anyone who’d survived his business methods — or vengeful family members and friends of those who hadn’t — might want to take out Alcista, for obvious reasons. And once Winters’s furious face appeared on Washington’s holo displays courtesy of Jay-Jay McGuffin — anyone could have chosen him as a patsy.
If someone who planned to kill Alcista had watched Jay-Jay’s interview, they’d have had James Winters delivered to them as a scapegoat, just like the answer to a prayer.
Leif tightened his grip on the arms of his chair, trying to keep his confused thoughts from making his head whirl any faster.
Time to stop this, he told himself. These ideas are sounding more and more like plot lines from the afternoon holosoaps. None of them offered an avenue of investigation to clear the captain.
Vendettas, personal or business-related, might be colorful but didn’t help narrow down the range of possible murderers here. If anything, the idea added to the candidates. Leif doubted that he or even all his Explorer friends could check out such a mob of suspects. A job like that would require the talents and resources of a national law-enforcement agency dedicated to finding the killer.
Like Net Force, Leif thought bitterly. Unfortunately, Net Force already has a handy-dandy suspect — Captain James Winters.
9
Matt flashed in early for the special Net Force Explorers meeting. He wanted to be close to the stage tonight, even though the reason for the evening’s assembly wasn’t exactly a surprise anymore.
As he blinked into the virtual hall, he was surprised to see how many people had been inspired with the same idea. Matt was faced with a good-sized horde when he arrived. And the horde wasn’t in a good mood. Kids were actually snarling because the usually polite and easygoing attendees were anything but tonight.
“Nice group,” Andy Moore commented as he finally reached the D.C. bunch. His hair was even wilder than ever after a near-scuffle on the way to join Matt, Leif, Megan, and the others.
“When you’re happy, you want to share it,” Leif said bitterly. “I wonder who they have on hand to sugarcoat all this wonderful news.”
“I hope it’s not Steadman,” David Gray muttered. “It’s a good thing this meeting’s virtual. If Steadman turns up, I think the kids will storm the stage.”
That’s what this whole setup feels like, Matt suddenly realized. A lynch mob. Except it’s Captain Winters getting lynched, and we can’t seem to do anything about it.
By the time the meeting was supposed to start, just about every present Explorer — and maybe some past ones — had appeared in the room, waiting to hear the official explanation. Matt felt a bit claustrophobic. Even though the room’s walls were elastic, the crowd was determined to get as close as possible to the podium. Kids shoved forward, banging into people with their elbows as they unconsciously squeezed closer, and getting banged in return until they could barely move their arms. Matt found himself standing uncomfortably close to the girl in front of him.
It’s just a sim, he kept reminding himself. Just a sim. Even so, he found himself bothered by Andy Moore’s breath steaming against his ear.
Just when full-blown claustrophobia was about to roll through him, Matt felt a faint beeping from his wristwatch. Meeting time, he thought with relief. At least now we’ll know what’s going on.
But the virtual stage didn’t pop into existence. No one declared the meeting open. Neither Agent Dorpff nor whoever would join him in explaining the next move in the Winters case put in an appearance. A few minutes passed.
Then the sullen silence that had filled the room in expectation of the meeting time vanished in a confused outcry of pure fury. If the crowd had been unhappy a moment before, it was downright ugly now.
“What the hell is going on?” an especially piercing voice cut through the wall of noise. “This is like incompetent city. All of a sudden Net Force can’t keep its own information in its computers. And now they can’t even start a meeting on time!”