Just then she said, “We’ve got one!” and brought audio up for me.
“—collapsed dead over dinner, apparently from a neural toxin. We will bring you other details as they become available.”
“Where?” I asked.
She popped up a map. I said, “Directions.” she keyed it and off we went. I exceeded traffic laws slightly, but generally complied, twitching in frustration as we went. If we could get there fast, we could try for an intercept.
The place was cordoned, barricaded, had remotes up to first inform and then intercept vehicles, and a quickly building ring of press. Without a word, Silver handed me a press badge and grabbed two headband cameras from her ready bag.
I parked, we hopped out, and no one should question us rushing over. I looked for any kind of entrance, but there were too many cops and I didn’t want to be noticed. He was likely in the area, and might even have had a boobytrap waiting for me.
I walked around the whole building quickly and kept alert for him. Unlikely, but it could happen that I’d just run into him. The place was a restaurant and garden with a wall at one end of a block of upscale shops and eateries. It had ironwork and nice bricks.
Silver took my cue and scanned around. She was looking for facial features, transmissions, signs of similar recon gear—that last had to be hard. I expected several of the news crews to be placed there, and that would complicate the search.
I didn’t see him, and Silver reported nothing at her end.
That done, I sought a gaggle of press on a grassy island overlooking the entrance and oozed in. There were ongoing mutters but I wanted something solid.
A videographer from XKC nodded as I wandered closer. He glanced at my badge and deduced I was private. I nodded back and walked through obstacles of feet and bags, professionally not stepping on anything.
“What did you hear?” I asked.
“Binary poison,” he said. “They say the wine and his food were contaminated. Someone had it in for him.”
“Apparently. Who?”
“Alec Lenz.”
I was supposed to recognize the name and said, “Damn.” I found out later he was an investigative reporter. That could be useful.
Binary poison. That was interesting. Not as flashy, but I was sure it was him. Doctoring the wine would give him a thrill, and tweaking the right glass or plate another. It was very tricky.
I didn’t want to stick around too long, so I nodded and we headed back to the car.
I drove. As I pulled into traffic I said, “I’m going to orbit out by streets. We might see something.”
“Understood,” she said. “What do you make of him? Settling down here?”
“Hired here,” I said. “The mob is using him. Either he got a long-term contract to eliminate their problems, or the previous ones were tests, though I expect pay was involved. You don’t hire someone to knock off major players in your backyard without bona fides.”
“Reasonable,” she said. “We can try again to trace the money.”
“Yeah. I don’t see anything so far, but I do see a Gem sedan that’s been behind us for two turns. Watch it for me.”
“Got it,” she said, and looked into the mirrors and screens.
I made another turn, and she said, “We’re definitely being followed.”
“That’s interesting. They are definitely not him.”
“Hirelings.”
I grinned. “That’s eating into his capital. Good.”
“Yes, well they’re gaining fast.”
“Let’s take the upcoming right toward the mountains. I want a quiet area. We’ll try for a collar.”
“There’s a park about five kilometers out,” she said.
“Good. Can you distract them?” I asked, revving the turbine while feeling and hearing the tires shiver on the edge of traction. I powered out of the bend, and counted four cars all matching speed.
“I can do more than that in moment,” she agreed. “Do we have another curve?”
“Just ahead.”
“Tell me when you start in.”
“Now,” I said.
“Distracting,” she said.
A glance at the screen showed a pall of greasy smoke behind us. She’d rigged an oil injector on the exhaust. Standard, and effective. There’s not much you can do against it.
“That slowed them,” she said. “Want more?”
“Yes.”
She said, “Caltrops and oil. I cut some large size ones while you were working on the barrel.” She fumbled and shifted.
“Excellent.” I assumed they had typical reinforced tires, but what she had would tangle in the undercarriage, and from a look at the screens, was. The first car careened, skidded, spun and crashed off the side into the growth.