City of Sensors by A.M. Todd

Author:A.M. Todd
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Now or Never Publishing
Published: 2022-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A few days later I made my way to Sentrac Square again on my lunch break, Yury plodding beside me. He chattered incessantly, but I barely heard him. It would be a serious violation of data police protocol to do what I was about to do right now.

We arrived at the Square and headed to the isolated area at the back, the same spot where Cedric had approached me. The emerald aura of the Forest shone on our right as we sat down on the fountain. I scanned the fountain, the nearby marble pillar, and the crowd gathered in the distance for watching eyes.

“Why are you so tense right now?” Yury said. As he stared at me, his glasses reflected back in miniature the numbers on the giant clock.

“I know about A. Chawla Consulting.”

Still he stared blankly. Foliage flooded the Forest and the light stained his face with green residue. “I don’t get it,” he said.

Neither did I. Right now I shouldn’t even be talking to Yury. I was risking my job. But the fact was, Yury was like a brother to me.

“A shell company under your wife’s maiden name,” I continued, reading his face. I’d already made my decision that I thought he was innocent, but a little more probing to see his reaction couldn’t hurt. No loose ends. “The official company address—your vacation address. The phone number—one of your wife’s old numbers. And there’s more evidence that points towards you too. You’ve been helping Donaldson run his laundering network.”

He didn’t speak.

“I found A. Chawla Consulting when I was investigating Donaldson. It’s a fake company he and Sara Figueira—that employee he’s sleeping with—used to funnel money together. But the information for that shell company leads me right to you.”

“Frank.”

“What?” I said, eyeing the crowd.

“I didn’t do this.” He stared at me from behind two shiny semicircles, the lenses of his glasses. He looked simple, like a child, all his layers of complexity shaved off: a man, reduced to a very basic thing. On the Forest, leaves waved weakly.

“Are you lying?”

“No, I swear! I’ll swear by anything you want. Just pick a thing—pick it, Frank—pick it. Oh God, I’m the fall guy. Anyone can see it, can’t they? Right? What kind of a data cop would leave a trail this obvious, right? This is a frame. Why’d you come to me first? You know I’m innocent. You must know.”

“Jesus, Yury, it’s just—the Optica never lies, that data never lies. And the Optica is telling me that you’re the guy. You’ve got debts. You had to sell Akshara’s property, her savings.”

By the end of the next minute, I regretted bringing that up. There was something unbearable about the sight of a thirty-four-year-old man weeping.

“Listen, I’m sorry I mentioned that,” I said. “I don’t like seeing you like this. This whole thing is fucked.”

“What’s going on?” he said. Images of attractive women swayed on a green background in an ad for Chem Connect on the Forest; the men followed, bright-eyed, with their phones out.

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