After taking my last bite of chili, I notified my girlfriends via SecreText:
I drove to the station house and showed up at the armory. With no shortage of suspicion, Armory Sergeant Arthur Fletcher informed me, “Armory doesn’t stock office supplies, civvie.” He was much friendlier after I flashed my badge. “What can I do ya for, Detective?”
“I haven’t been issued armor, yet.”
“We can schedule a fitting next week.”
“Oh, I’ve been fitted already. Do you have any small concealable vests?”
“Yes.”
“One small concealable vest, and one small helmet.”
“Alright.” He went into the back and came out with my body armor.
Once I had signed for my new dress-up accessories, I departed with a “Thanks!”
The final step in our preparations was to convince Judge Juarez to give me a search warrant.
“Detective, you have my sympathies, but this affidavit is miserly with its evidence. Being abandoned and next door to the site of a kidnapping isn’t much to go on for an investigation, and certainly isn’t probable cause.”
“Alright. Well.” ((Fuck.)) “The property is owned by Gunther and Sampson, but there are no tenants, and it isn’t being actively used for anything.”
“And what difference does vacancy make in determining probable cause, Missy?”
I sighed. “None, Judge.”
“Detective… You’re either gonna need better evidence or consent straight from the owners.”
“Thanks, Your Honor. I’ll figure something out.”
“What did I tell you about wearing a vest?”
I chuckled and patted my chest. “Concealed, and my girlfriend insisted on helmets for this one.”
He smiled warmly. “Your girlfriend’s a smart cookie. Have a sucker, and bring her one for being so thoughtful about your safety.”
The sky had started to sprinkle by the time I arrived at the courthouse, and as I left it was pouring. When I got home I told my girl squeezes what the judge had told me:
((Ah… hmm…)) My mind ran at a million miles a minute. ((Vermin… neighbor… community… neighborhood… neighborhood watch… police… Yes. I have it.)) The plan built itself in a minute, and as the last brick was laid I replied,
I texted Koko and Doll to notify them I was making a move, and they were on my couch in 20 minutes flat.
And then Blue showed up.
“Hey, uh. What’s up, Blue?”
“I wish to partake of this conspiracy that ‘just might work’.”
“Oh.” ((Shit, fuck, damn it.)) “The strike team is, uh, at max capacity.”
“What if one of you gets shot? Having a doctor tag along might save a life.”
“Ah. Uh.” ((Shit, piss, cuck, dick.)) “Yyyeah, I suppose it could. Come in.” She took her seat. “Alright, let’s talk tactics. We could lie about our identities and who we work for, which in my case might be a good idea… but I don’t want to play that dirty. We are who we say we are.”
Georgina shook her head. “Prax… You’ve made national news. They know who you are and what you’ve been up to, so if you tell them your real name there’s no way they’re letting us in there.”
“If they don’t, we’ll break in.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked incredulously. “You’re a cop, you know about the Fourth!”
“Evidence be damned, the mission is to save Alex, not to punish his captors. If we can get them in trouble, so much the better, but conviction is a lower priority than picking where we eat when we’re celebrating his return home.” ((Or, to be honest with myself, the flowers and ‘our condolences’ card we’re giving Geraldine after her visit to the morgue.))
Georgina nodded slowly as she processed my madness.
“Unless you think that waiting for probable cause to show up on our doorstep is gonna work…”
“God damn it, Andrea,” she growled. “You’re right. But flouting the Fourth Amendment is just our backup plan. I want these people to rot if we can help it.”
“I do, too. We downplay my presence, but we don’t lie about who we are. Let’s get to work.”
Doll dialed G&S’s office and put them on speaker. “Gunther and Sampson, this is Kelly O’Kelly speaking, how may I help you?”
My sweetheart lieutenant responded in her cute little voice— “Good afternoon, Kelly, I’m Lieutenant Buchanan from the Santa Virginia Police Department. I’m currently heading a task force whose mission is to identify and target resources involved in vandalism, and I was hoping to enlist your company’s assistance in verifying our assumptions and computer models.”
“We are always eager to assist our partners in the law enforcement community, Lieutenant.”
“Of course you are. I’ve heard wonderful things about G&S from my colleagues within my department and at other agencies.”
“How may we be of assistance?”
“Our analysts have identified several underdeveloped and underutilized properties throughout the city, many of which we suspect criminals have been using as bases of operation for their activities. Unfortunately, several of your company’s properties are among those we have calculated to be in the highest risk category.”
“Oh, my. I’ll connect you with Tony Hopkins, our Property Crisis Manager.”
“Much appreciated.”
“One moment while I transfer you.”
Four rings later, a deep voice announced, “Tony Hopkins, Gunther and Sampson.”
“Good afternoon, Tony, I’m Lieutenant Buchanan from the Santa Virginia Police Department, I have a special request for you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Lieutenant, how can I help you?”
“To begin with, I’m currently assigned to a property-oriented task force.” She began, repeating all the sort-of-technically-true bullshit she had fed Kelly.
“Interesting. Which department do you work under?”
“It’s actually a multi-unit task force composed of volunteers, but listing all of the units contributing to the mission would take more time than I have to spare—I have several other property holders to contact and many inspections to lead.”
“How many?”
“For the sake of our community partners’ privacy, we are only disclosing the properties of interest to the affected stakeholders.”
“That’s very discreet of you.” I could hear him smirk in satisfaction.
“Yes, we understand how much our community developers contribute to our city’s prosperity and wish to maintain their trust in our department and in the other agencies they depend on to protect their interests.”
“And I sincerely believe our trust is well-placed, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?”
“We’d like to begin by conducting inspections of a few of the properties that our algorithm has flagged as high-risk for squatters, vagrants, and miscreants; plus a few low-risk properties as controls, to verify the algorithm’s ability to eliminate false positives.”
“Which properties would you be starting with?”
“Very conveniently, we have a high-risk site, the Torrey Pines Hotel, right next door to a low-risk site, a warehouse just across the rails.”
“The Fitzsimmons warehouse?” he asked warily.
“Yes, but we are more interested in the Torrey Pines—we likely won’t need to inspect the warehouse.”
“Hmm. Alright. What time shall we meet?”
“Midnight is the best time to catch indigents and miscreants off guard.”
“That’s rather late.”
“That’s when they come out of the woodwork.”
“If you say so. I’ll see you at midnight at the Torrey Pines Hotel, front entrance.”
“Of course. Thank you, Mister Hopkins.”
“I should be the one thanking you.”
She laughed, delicate as butterfly wings. “Trust me, you’re doing a service to your community. Have a nice day.”
“You, too.”
The drizzling had turned to pouring just as I finished the phone call. We polished off our cover story around 11. We put on civilian clothes, the better to blend in, and met up in front of the Torrey Pines under umbrellas. We waited for Tony, and were not disappointed when a gray suit as big as their voice showed up. “Good evening ladies!” He offered his hand. “Tony Hopkins, at your service.”
We shook it in turns. “Lieutenant Buchanan, it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”
“Officer Bachman, nice to meet you.” If he recognized my last name, he didn’t let it show.
“Georgina Dominguez, former crime scene investigator, now community volunteer. I’ll be dusting for prints, if necessary.”
“And I’m Doctor Regina Klein. I’m here to assess the health of any indigents we may come across.”
“Pleased to meet ya. Well, I’ll be. Is there a height requirement for your task force?”
“No. Why do you ask?” asked Doll, coldly.
“I mean—well…”
“We’re short,” I admitted. “We’re also all women. But since you ask… This task force’s ulterior goal is to prove that short women have what it takes to safeguard our city. I hope you can take us seriously.” I hazarded a “Sir.” to drive home the fact that he was a big man worthy of our deference.
“Of course. I believe in you,” he claimed, his over-acting betraying his true feelings.
I smiled despite the very audible condescension ‘hidden’ within his voice. “Thank you.” He could take seriously a group of men that just happened to have one woman in it, but four broads? We were a joke that didn’t need a punchline. But as long as he held onto that preconception, these 3 tiny and 1 average-height females had the element of surprise. “Would you care to show us around the properties, Tony?”
He let us into the hotel and showed us around. “This is the Torrey Pines Hotel. 55 rooms, including 10 honeymoon suites—”
I tested him. “One of the rooms here was searched by us recently, if I recall correctly.”
“Yes. The investigators tore out the carpet.”
“Oof… I’m sorry to hear that. Sounds like the detective in charge has it out for you.”
“It’s alright, we were fixing to knock the place down, anyways.”
“When’s that scheduled?”
“Hellifino, buncha bellyaching activists got it on the city’s Historic Architecture Register.”
“Let me guess, antifas?”
“Prostitutes, actually.”
“Real pains in the ass. Hey, Lieutenant, what do you think of that closet?”
“That’s definitely a critical risk factor.”
“Dominguez, do you have anything so far?”
“The usual, no electricity, no maintenance.”
“That’s what I thought. Doctor, do you see any health concerns?”
“I need to swab some surfaces and check the samples at my laboratory.”
“Mister Hopkins, do you have any security systems here?”
“There are, but there’s no electricity to run them.”
“Security guards?”
“No.”
“Huh. I wouldn’t be surprised if a pack of hoodlums came out of a closet and ran right past us this very second. We shouldn’t be here very long.”
We putted about pretending to inspect things, taking notes on legal pads, and looking ponderous and analytical and official. Whether he saw us as little girls playing pretend or real, grown-up officers of the law didn’t matter—what mattered was him seeing our act as sincere, and we had the wool over his eyes from the moment I ‘admitted’ that we were trying to ‘prove’ ourselves as little women in a world run by big men.
“Alright, ladies,” I announced, “what do we have?”
“All the evidence I’ve gathered so far supports the algorithm,” said Georgina.
“This place is crawling with risk factors,” bullshitted Doll.
“I’ll be able to get you the SARs by open of business.”
“‘SARS’?” asked Tony frantically.
“Sample analysis reports.”
“Oh.” He sighed in relief.
“Which could turn up traces of SARS.”
“Oh, Christ…”
“Look,” I interjected, “these power outlets are ungrounded. If an intruder plugged in a single-insulated appliance, they could electrocute themselves… or worse, start a fire, burning down the building and spreading to adjacent properties.”
“Which introduces an additional liability equation into the risk matrix,” said Georgina very seriously. “This isn’t looking good, sir. It’s definitely going into the report.” Then, very ominously, she added, “Hopefully we can avoid… reporting such variables to Health and Safety, forcing you to renovate a hotel that’s better off as rubble.” Her thinly-veiled threat had the intended effect on him, further stressing him out.
“Hm,” I began, stroking my chin ponderously and sounding very concerned. “The algorithm has indicated in the past that nexuses of these particular risk factors can spread like viruses. It might be wise for us to closely investigate any of your properties in close proximity before any poverty threats can spread and infect your property values.”
His brow furrowed anxiously. “Now?”
“For the time being, we have enough data for our preliminary analysis on this property. Details are vital, but, in light of these very concerning findings, it’s more important at the moment that we improve our view of the big picture as quickly as possible. All of your company’s assets are potentially in harm’s way. We need to knock out a hundred birds with one stone so that we can help you with more than just the Torrey Pines. You might want to get some coffee, sir, you’re going to be escorting us all night.”
He was genuinely worried. “I don’t drink coffee—the caffeine—makes my heart palpitate.”
“Fortunately, we’ve already had our fix. Can you get us into the warehouse?” I asked.
“I can get you on the property, but—”
“Let’s go.”
We drove right around the block. He scratched his head as he got out of his car. “I’m not supposed to…”
“Mister Hopkins, I’m afraid we’re going to need unfettered access to the facility if we’re going to do our jobs and get you the information your company very urgently needs to protect your very vulnerable assets.”
“I don’t have the keys.”
“You don’t?”
“I thought this was just going to be a little walk around the grounds.”
“Well… how long would it take you to get them?”
“I would have to ask one of the execs for it.”
“And wake them up.”
“Which I’d rather not.”
“Well, with your consent,” I said, flashing my lockpick case, “I can pick it.”
He considered his options carefully. “I don’t know if…”
“Sir… this inspection could be the deciding factor in future cases like the Torrey Pines, where prostitutes were violating your rights as property owners, squatting in and abusing the hotel, leaving your company vulnerable to legal liabilities and a PR nightmare before getting it placed on the City Historic Architecture Register and ruining your project. This disaster, without a doubt, could have been avoided with closer cooperation between our agency and yours. Our goal is to target high-risk facilities and head off any squatters before they multiply out of control and, like the hookers, take over completely—thus heading off another catastrophe like Monday’s. If you let us in, you could be saving your bosses from a lot of future headaches. If you don’t let us in, though…”
“Oh…” I was tearing him apart.
“We aren’t gonna find anything your company needs to worry about. And even if we were in theory to find something legally questionable, we don’t have a search warrant—and you know what that means.” ((Absolutely nothing.)) “And, besides… Misters Gunther and Sampson are friends of the mayor. We wouldn’t want to upset either of those very important people by digging up skeletons that are best left buried and forgotten. We know how to be discreet.” ((We know how to be, and we will not be.))
In the midst of dissociation he nodded.
“Yes?”
“Uh. Sure.”
“I need an affirmative ‘yes’ or a negative ‘no’, Tony. Do you consent to us picking this lock and going in and searching every nook and cranny for anything we think might be interesting?”
“Yes.”
I held back a grin. ((Bingo.)) “Great!” I patted him on the shoulder and fiddled with the lock—fortunately for us, it was a cheap one, so with 3 quick rakes across its 4 non-security pins, it was open.
“That was a very difficult lock,” said Georgina, “based on how long that took you.”
“Ha. Ha. Cheap or expensive, raking anything that fast still takes a delicate touch.”
“It’s a Lansuo. I could have opened it in one movement… with my bare hands.”
“Bullshit.”
She closed the shackle and thumped the lock on its side—quite forcefully—with the butt of her hand… and the shackle popped right open. “See? Lansuo. Every knowledgeable picker learns about that attack in kindergarten.”
“Oh.” I blushed.
We spread out, searching offices and loading bays and storage pens and lofts and closets.
“Nothing,” whispered Georgina; Doll said as much, and Regina nodded in defeat.
My heart sank. There was no sign of Alexander Brookvale, anywhere. I found an old wooden crate to sit on, a safe place to allow my very quickly growing disappointment to fester.