I walked inside, and the treatment was first class. Their counter rep was a very classy looking young lady.
“Welcome to Empire Repair, sir, what can we do for you?”
“Yes, I appear to have an imbalance in a wheel. Very straightforward.”
“We can get to that in about half an hour.”
I made a show of checking the time in my glasses. “I can wait, I suppose. It’s pushing my schedule.” I was aiming for pushy but not obnoxious.
She smiled and I couldn’t tell it was fake. Well done.
“I’ll try to expedite it, sir. I’ll need a key, please.”
I offered a chip that had access and fake contact info. She plugged it in and we were set, as long as they didn’t notice it was sabotage. Silver’s “wheel imbalance” would require replacement. No one was going to thank us for helping the local economy, either.
“Then I’ll wait. Thank you.”
I stepped out, acted very casual and relaxed, and strolled along the apron, far enough from other vehicles or the buildings to avoid any suspicion or notice, and out of traffic. I sauntered along and casually drew my phone.
I had a few small sensors in my coat, encrypted and remoted to the unit, and did a DNA scan. Yes, he’d been here. A moment later, I put the tools away. A large, used tool rack labeled “Rognan” sat at the end bay. Doug Rognan was one of the names he’d used on Earth. The little bastard had a job here.
I expected he would not be in today.
That gave me all the lead I needed. I walked back to the office and stepped in again.
“Pardon me, miss, isn’t the end bay open?”
“Sorry, sir. It’s not. That technician wasn’t able to come in today.”
At that moment, the police showed up. I’d even beat the investigators in, with the aid of my lovely assistant. To be fair, though, they had to arrange warrants and brought a lot more gear than I did.
There were three cars and a scene van. One suited detective got out of his car, as a young female patroller came around the other side, and two others.
I said, “I guess I may have to reschedule.” She wasn’t paying attention to me, though. She was watching the approaching interference.
The lead man came up, displayed ID quietly, and laid down a sheet. The supervisor nodded, the manager came through, and in a few moments the staff from senior tech to tire wiper were all paraded into the office area. Three other waiting customers, or at least the drivers of the actual customers, sat back and watched in fascination. I blended in perfectly.
I overheard, “Is anyone missing?”
“Technician Rognan is new, but did not come in this morning.”
“Who worked on this vehicle?” he held a print with information that was obviously of Janich’s car.
“That would be Rognan.”
There was a momentary tableau as everyone figured out the implications.
Inside my pocket, I flipped on my phone. They had some good sensors, though, as someone turned and said, “No phones inside at this time, please. You’ll need to go outside.”
I flipped it back off. Well done. They might actually track him. That presented some issues.
I stood, stepped forward just enough to be noticed, recognized, and cause a break in conversation.
“You’re obviously busy with something important. I can wait and will bring my car in tomorrow.”
With some relief and sadness, the manager said, “Yes, sir. I do apologize.”
“Not at all. I’ll see you early.”
I planned to. I wanted my own hands on this.
I did a little evading on the highway, just to make sure. It wouldn’t stop anyone following me, but it would delay them, and I’d recognize a tail. Of course, they might have me painted from high overhead, or by drone. The most effective solution to that was a pass through a parking elevator. I took a spur into the city, found a nice new one between blocks of office and shops, and let it raise the car into a bay. I found a vendor, bought a cup of pirogies and ate them on my way back. I signaled for recovery, and the forks pulled the car back down.
I took a leisurely pass around the downtown on the elevated highway, then headed back out to the hotel, alert for tails. I called Silver for an update, and she didn’t know of anything obvious on the nodes or the police net.
Once there, I filled her in on the day’s intel.
“Sounds productive,” she said. “I have some intel, too.”
“Go ahead,” I prompted.
“The main purpose of KnoledgeKnode is data sharing. Proprietary industrial processes, vids, presentation transcriptions, the works. He’s gotten periodic threats for years. Someone finally followed through.”
“Very interesting,” I said. “No government stuff?”