“Then I should tell Cornwall that—” Ely began.
“Shh!” Arthur looked meaningfully over at the helmet, then around the room. “Look, these other Constables won’t make it here until after the election. Do you understand? They’re going to arrive too late. You’ve still got a chance. You can catch a killer. You remember what I told you?”
“Yes,” Ely said. “I do.”
“And have you got a plan?”
Ely stared into space for a moment.
“I think so. It’s not a very good one, but it might work. I’ll need your help, though.”
The plan was simple. Vauxhall had identified the worker who’d been stealing the hot water for the longest. Alexandra Penrith. Ely had asked Vauxhall to check where the suspect had been during the shooting. Vauxhall hadn’t been able to tell him. The records for the entire shift had been corrupted. She offered to check the camera footage, but that would take time, and that was something that they didn’t have.
There was just over an hour until shift-change. Penrith, Glastonbury, and about half of the other suspects were in Lounge-Two, The Sailor’s Rest. There was nothing unusual in this. The last round of pre-election broadcasts were being aired. Despite what Arthur had said, Ely wanted to find those genuinely involved. To do that, he was going to arrest Penrith.
As they rode down in the elevator, Ely checked the location of the suspects.
“There are twenty in Lounge-One, twenty-one in Lounge-Two. The other six are still in Recreation.”
“And you want me in Lounge-One?” Arthur asked. “I won’t be much use in a fight.”
“You won’t have to be. It won’t come to that,” Ely hoped. “You just need to watch. See who runs, see who doesn’t. We’ve got the cameras, but there’s not going to be time to analyse the footage before I act.”
“Yes, yes. I got that part. You want to see who runs, because you reckon anyone who does is involved.”
“What was it you said,” Ely began, but he remembered he was wearing the helmet, and its microphone would be recording. “Sometimes you have to take a chance,” he finished.
Arthur nodded, knowingly.
“Control,” Ely said.
“Yes, Ely.”
“Are you ready?”
“Ready and watching,” she said.
“And are you able to turn those Recreation machines off?”
“Yes, Ely. I just told you I’m ready. If they don’t finish Recreation in the next four minutes, the machines they’re on will each report a fault. You’ll have to hope they decide to go down to the lounge afterwards.”
The elevator clanged to a stop.
“What do you think will happen, Arthur?” Ely asked as he stepped out of the elevator.
“I think someone will run. The question is who. Good luck.” Arthur turned towards Lounge-One. Ely watched him go, then headed into Lounge-Two. He moved towards the wall, and looked at the crowd. He tapped out a command, dimming the wall light above his head.
Standing in the shadows, he slowly surveyed the room. The broadcasts had yet to begin. Some people were talking in low voices, but most were lost in their displays.
With its new dents and the bandages over his scalp, Ely’s helmet was a worse fit than ever. He tried focusing on a citizen in the crowd, but the tracking software didn’t register the movement. He raised a hand, tilted the helmet slightly until he found a position in which it would work. He needed a new one, but he would never get it. In a few hours, one way or another, it would all be over.
He was certain that it was the killer who had shot at him, and now he was almost as certain that the killer hadn’t acted alone. One of them had followed him to the Twilight Room then lain in wait, ready to shoot the moment that he stepped into the elevator. When he hadn’t, the killer had become impatient, followed him into the museum, and then lost the opportunity. Someone else had then deleted all the records for that shift. It had to be someone else. Again, they had acted in haste there. Deleting records for the entire shift spoke of a desperation that told Ely he was on the right track. Except… Except there was a small voice at the back of his head telling him that it didn’t add up. His reasoning made sense, it was logical, but it didn’t quite fit.
He looked slowly around the room, replaying the events, trying to see what it was that he had missed.
The political broadcasts began. Most of the room’s occupants ignored the large screens and stayed glued to their visors where they could follow the running commentary provided by other workers, themselves sitting in front of the same screen mere feet away.
A message came up on his display, ‘focus lost. Resetting in 10, 9, 8…’ he brought a hand up to move the helmet back into position.
Ely checked the location of the suspects in the lounge. Fifteen were in the main part of the room, five were in the privacy rooms around the lounge’s perimeter. He checked that the doors to those rooms were ready to lock on his command.
“Ely?” Vauxhall’s voice came clearly through his helmet. “The last of your suspects is leaving Recreation now. The first two have already gone into Lounge-One.”
“Why did it take that last one so long to leave?”
“It didn’t,” she said. “I staggered the times at which the machines would report an error. I thought that would look less, well, suspicious.”
“Right. Thanks.” He hadn’t considered that. “And no one is carrying anything?”
“No, it’s the same with everyone in the lounge already. No one is hiding anything.”
“Good.” Then that meant that no one was carrying a gun.
He scanned the room, gauging the crowd, judging the best time to act. Chancellor Stirling was scheduled to be the last person to speak. He couldn’t wait that long. Her speech would finish just a few minutes before shift-change. He scanned through the broadcast schedule. Henley was due to speak in five minutes. Disrupting his address would have to do. Ely checked that he had access to the Tower’s communication system. He was going to announce the arrest to the entire Tower, and Vauxhall was going to ensure it was transmitted to the rest of the City. He hoped it would work. He hoped someone ran. He hoped— And then he saw her.
There was nothing unusual about her appearance. Nothing made her stand out. If Ely hadn’t been running a full sweep of the room, he doubted he would have noticed her. But whereas every other person in the room appeared on his display with a small tag showing their name, this woman had none.
He focused on her. Nothing. He brought his hand up to his helmet, checking it was firmly in place. He tapped at his wristboard. Nothing. She had no name, no ID.
“Vox,” he murmured softly.
“Constable?”
“Can you see what I’m seeing?”
“Hang on, I’m looking at…” There was a sharp intake of breath “It’s… it can’t…” the Controller stammered into silence.
“What is it? Who is she? Why can’t I view her ID?”
“She’s… She’s… She’s a ghost.” The Controller stopped, and seemed to get a hold of herself. “It must be her, Ely. That’s the killer. She’s a ghost, just like I said.”
Ely ignored the last comment. It didn’t help him and it didn’t matter. He started moving towards the woman. Someone had worked out how to delete themselves from the system, he realised. And then he dismissed that thought, and forgot about Penrith and the other suspects. He knew whom he had to arrest.
There was a sudden storm of protest from the crowd. Most of the workers leapt to their feet, shouting and cursing at something the candidate had said.
Ely lost sight of the ghost.
“Vox? Can you see her?”