April 3: The Middle of Nowhere (12 page)

The ill fated mushroom growing business had closed under order from Environmental, but there was a small service supplying cut flowers and potted plants that used ingenious ways to cheaply acquire both soil and pots as part of other commercial orders lifted to orbit. She was a customer herself with three potted plants hanging in the corners of her room to help purify the air, but hadn't known she was buying them from a business her brother started and in which he had a stake. 

There was a home cleaning service that also did minor handy-man repairs and resurfacing of walls and floors. Another single person business was a lady who did mending and simple tailoring, like adjusting hems, although she did upholstery too.

A little firm stocked party and holiday decorations and offered gift wrapping with singing delivery. They did graphic design and short run printing. She suspected they had made her Welcome Home banner. They had odds and ends like greeting cards, puzzles, a few kitchen utensils and some very adult toys that made April blush even though she was alone.

There were twenty-two other companies that ether kept one person busy or were second jobs that supplemented someone's income.

What April could not figure out was why any of the people running these little operations didn't just drop the payment to her brother and go out on their own. Most of them were set up to pay her brother about five percent of their gross income. None were that big but together they added up nicely. She'd had no idea a year and a half or two years ago he was doing that well. She called her gramps on com and put the question to him, "Why don't these folks just go out on their own and run their own business?"

"I wondered the same thing little gal. Some of them stick with it because they'd have to change their com code or start with a new business name and they are scared they'd lose customers. I talked with a few of them and most paid Bob to buy the business, customer list included, even if it was just a few hundred dollars. Some are supplied under the company name Bob started and are fearful they couldn't get a line of credit or legacy pricing on their own," he explained.

"Most just aren't the creative sort to start something all by themselves and a few have a real fear of trying to sell anything. If they didn't get new customers by word of mouth they would fold right up as people move or retire. Bob may have been greedy like we've discussed, but I have to admit he had it pegged pretty accurately what the market would bear. Five percent is a small enough bite most of these folks find it easier to pay every month than to risk upsetting what is working well. What do you intend to do with them?"

"Hey, if they are happy paying and feel it's worth it, why should I turn down the income?"

"If you look at the notes Bob kept in detail, he records a number of times he had to help these folks get past a problem. A couple times their costs went up and they were terrified to raise their prices. He did a little hand holding and got them past their panic. Don't be surprised if they call you now when they run into a glitch. If you offered to just give them the full ownership and withdraw I wouldn't be surprised but what a few of them would feel abandoned. They like knowing they have somebody decisive to call when they aren't sure what to do."

"No wonder Bob thought I wanted him to run the courier business because I couldn't!" April blurted out. "He had all these timid hand wringers who would have never had the guts to
try
to start a new business depending on him. After a while you must get really disgusted and think that's just normal."

"Well, there were a few businesses he sold outright and the people didn't want any further input from him," her grandpa revealed. "But those tended to be bigger industrial sort of shops instead of little one-proprietor services. For example he sold a business with three employees and some nice contracts for pressure suit repair about six months before the war. Those bigger deals  are the source of most of the cash balance he left you."

"Yeah, when I saw those numbers I remembered how he offered to buy me out in payments. He could have afforded to give me a pretty decent chunk down on the courier business if he had wanted to, but he didn't," April said, irked all over again.

"And I suspect part of the reason he wouldn't do that is he was getting almost reclusive," her gramps told her. "A couple years ago he'd love to tell me all excited when he was thinking up a new business. About the time he turned sixteen he stopped doing that."

"What was he so private about? He was out late all the time, but Home doesn't have any night life, does it? Are there some secret gambling dens or something I don't know about? Eddie pretty much said there is some stuff going on that would be the vice squad's business on Earth, but he didn't want to embarrass himself  by telling it to me," she said rolling her eyes in frustration. "I might blush, but I'm not going to faint away in shock."

"There are a couple private places that have a bar and serve drinks. So far both of them are run as private members-only clubs. You have to be approved by the members to buy in. One place has live music and a comedy night. They serve food, run a poker game room, or screen videos if they don't have a game. The other place has sports gambling and shows a lot of live Earth feed of events. There are a few people we are pretty sure make their living by prostitution, but the clubs don't get involved," he said very emphatically. "They could have a trust fund," he admitted.

 "Jon and a few of us old timers talked about it and have decided to ignore it as long as the assembly ignores it. If nobody is out in the corridors making a spectacle and as long as it doesn't lead to crimes against either party then there is no law yet against it. The one thing we agreed is if somebody wants to do that – well that is their choice. But if we see somebody pimping and enslaving others as a business we'll put a quick stop to it. By bringing it up in the assembly or informally if necessary," he said with grim look.

"Thanks for telling me the straight stuff instead of pussy-footing around it," April said.

"You haven't finished reading all the folders yet," Happy said as fact, not asking. "I was going to have to tell you anyway when you got to the folder about the Home Social Club. That's the first place I was talking about that has music. You'll find you have a twenty percent interest in it. And no, before you ask, Bob didn't hang out there because I play poker there often enough and never saw him hanging out coming or going."

"Wow, I own part of a night club?" April asked stunned.

"Well, I'm sure Earthies would turn their nose up at it. Don't get any silly ideas what it is like from watching
Casablanca
. There's no room for an acoustical piano, the tables are tiny and most of the chairs are fold up Hardoy chairs for the half G level. But it's in the industrial area so they can crank up the music and they don't do too bad at creating an atmosphere."

"Will you take me some night when they have jazz?" April asked, surprising him. "Can you take guests?"

"I hardly think they'd turn away one of the owners at the door," he said, amused. "But, uh, people kind of dress up. Do you need to get something to wear?"

"That's not a problem," April said with a sudden grin. Happy just lifted an eyebrow at her mischievous face . He had no idea she had some very elegant dresses made when she'd been down to Earth. She'd managed to bring those lifting from Tonga. Frank, the designer, had sent the matching jewelry to Home while she was sailing around the Pacific. It would be fun to have someplace to wear them.

"Call me again if you have any more questions when you get into the files deeper," he invited. "I'll find out when there'll be some jazz," he said and logged off.

April dug until she found the papers on the club, fascinated. It made sense the liquor importing company supplied the nightclub. So she was a supplier besides the twenty percent. By the time she read that folder she was tired of it. She'd been at it three hours. The rest could wait until tomorrow.

She was sitting thinking about everything, trying to decide what she needed to do and what would take care of itself when her com dinged. It was Jon so she was happy to answer.

"Hello Jon, Thank you again for your protection in the cafeteria. Your having Margaret there ahead of the guy was impressive. You were way ahead of him right from when he stepped off the shuttle I understand."

"That's my job, but that's why I'm calling. I have a favor to ask."

"I'll do it if I can."

"It's not something you're very good at," Jon admitted. "I'd like you to be a bit duplicitous. I've seen you are very direct. Your allowing folks to meter your statements on Earth was devastating. But I'd like you to forget entirely about that fellow shooting at you in the cafeteria."

"That shouldn't be hard," April agreed. "Nobody let him get a single shot off. I can say in all honesty nobody shot – at me."

"That's exactly how I need you to think so if you are analyzed it reads as truthful and as little evidence there is any qualification or deception as possible. I've talked with everyone there and nobody has any problem agreeing it never happened. I've arranged for the body to be disappeared and it is one less thing for the Chinese to hold against you or Home."

"What did you do? Cremate him?" April wondered. "Won't they know anyway? I mean, they sent him here. Where else would he have died?"

"We were little more artistic than that. He appeared over by ISSII. It was too difficult to sneak him inside, but we dropped him off in a rescue ball and they've found him already. We didn't try to cover up that he was Tasered, didn't even wash the coffee off or take the knife out of his back."

"It's only meant to create some doubt what really happened. It has to be bizarre to have three possible causes of death applied so simultaneously that none can be assigned priority. There is no record of him entering here now, he wasn't wearing spex and he was under observation seamlessly from entering Home and nobody saw him use com to report in that he had arrived. There has to be some doubt now. Especially in the sort of minds that play these games."

"Did you remember to wipe Ruby's prints off the knife?"

"Now really, who are you talking to little gal?" Jon asked, quietly amused.

"Sorry." It was nice he was amused instead of taking offense quickly. "That's fine with me."

* * *

April had been back home long enough to generate some bills that didn't get paid by auto-pay. She scrolled through them, checking off approval boxes for the things she had to buy Gunny and some odds and ends for herself. She checked her brother's com account and to her surprise there were some charges that hadn't cleared. She hadn't expected that. They all seemed to be for trivial personal expenses, a pair of spex, some paper pads and footies.

The one that didn't make sense was a notice that said: Your monthly statement has been posted. She followed the link and it showed a log on for Banca Monte dei Paschi di Siena. It had a nice still picture of a stone building and said Banca Dal 1472. Could that possibly mean what she thought, the length of time they'd been in business?  She asked for a translation. Yep, that's what it meant all right.

She thought about trying to log on. Most systems would lock you out if you made three bad tries. She could see if the user name was in the computer. She clicked on the first box and a twelve digit number appeared in it. She recorded that on her hand com while she had it on the screen. That was probably the account number. When she clicked on the password  box nothing happened. It wasn't held in the system. Oh well. Time to ask Gramps what to do.

"There wasn't anything in his papers about an Italian bank account," Happy insisted.

"Well, they had his addy to drop him a reminder his account was updated. The number comes up when you click on the first box so he's logged on before. Do you have anybody who is good enough with computers they might suck the password out for us?"

"I'd ask Jon. It's connected to the Mitsubishi net so I'd want him to know why we are trying to hack it anyway."

"That's the sort of thing Eddie used to do for me," Jon told her.

She finally ended up with Jon, Happy, Eddie and Gunny all crowded around looking at the household com. Eddie sat beside her and she brought up the link.

"Nobody has any objection if I try to see if there is any trace of the logon left in memory?" Eddie asked them all.

"I'll deal with anybody from the com center if you trip any sort of alarms," Jon offered. "I'll say it is part of the investigation into Bob's death if they have any questions."

"Okay, let's peel this baby open," Eddie pulled out a candy bar sized module with an optical port connector and plugged it in the side of the com screen. The graphics went away and a whole bunch of text appeared with all sorts of symbols. Eddie typed in things a few times and the text changed. He didn't look happy and the wait between each new string he typed in lengthened.

"What is that you plugged in?" April wanted to know.

"It's actually a complete small computer," He explained. "It is small because it doesn't have to do a lot of things a general purpose machine does. It's good for a long Federal vacation down on the dirtball, but it self-erases if a different thumb than mine is put on its taste pad. Sorry to tell you Bob never asked the system to keep his password and the encryption and safety systems worked perfectly to remove it when he was through. It only shows the address being accessed three times. Could that make sense?"

"Yes, if it is a new account. I logged on once earlier and now with you guys here. So he might have only had it open once to set up the account. I have no idea why he'd need a new account though. He's been using the account my dad opened for him when he was ten years old for everything."

"A North American bank?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, but I haven't heard anything about them messing with personal accounts have you?"

"Well, perhaps he had some funds he wanted moved out of their easy reach. If it was new he likely didn't have the password memorized yet, but he was smart, he'd never write it down near the screen like people do. If he had it on a note in his wallet it's gone forever."