The Sensation by Amanda Bridgeman - The First Three Chapters

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1: CLEARANCE Detective Salvi Brentt watched as the department’s designated psych reviewed her file. His face was hard to read; his eyes downcast, lips pursed in thought. Salvi saw the contents of her file through the glass data pane as he scrolled through it. There was a lot of data, more than she would’ve thought necessary. He did this every time they met, reviewed his notes to see where they should pick up from today. Except today was different. Today was the last session she was required to sit before being cleared back onto active duty. At least, she hoped so. For the past six weeks she’d been desk-bound, reviewing cases for the other detectives of hub 9, providing a human set of eyes to work alongside the department’s dedicated AI, Riverton. She’d been reviewing and lodging crime scene reports, canvassing reports, autopsy reports, suspect reports, interrogation reports, making calls, and basically anything the other detectives didn’t want to do. Mostly, though, she’d been answering a whole lot of questions about what went down on her last case in Bountiful and at the Solme Complex. That was the reason she was sitting there now on Doctor Marr’s

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couch. The department was doing their due diligence and making sure she was in the right state of mind to be let back onto the streets. She had, after all, killed a man. And he had almost killed her. Already this morning she’d been physically cleared for duty. The cast on her arm had finally been removed, and with one last set of painful injections to help strengthen the bone, she was good to go. All she had to do was clear this last hurdle, and it was one where x-rays couldn’t speak for her. They had, of course, scanned her brain to analyze it, giving two reasons why. The first was they had to ensure her submergence into the Bio-Lume gel at the Solme Complex hadn’t caused any lasting effects; that the bacteria hadn’t made its way inside her body. The second reason was to ensure no emotional scars had been left from the trauma of what went down. Of course, the latter was harder to prove. Regardless, they would analyze her brain anyway, comparing the new scans to those taken when she’d first joined the police force. It unnerved her. It made her feel like one of the Subjugates at the Solme Complex, being scrutinized to see what state her mind was in; to see whether it was safe to release her back onto the streets. Salvi felt she bore no emotional scars from what had happened. In fact she’d never felt better. She figured stopping a serial killer would do that to a person; knowing a brutal killer was off the street, knowing they couldn’t hurt anyone again, knowing she had been responsible for stopping them. Well, partially responsible. If Mitch hadn’t wounded the guy, she may not have been sitting here to tell the tale. Mitch’s gunshot had given her the seconds she’d needed to kick her attacker off. The killer had fallen back into the wall, and the crucifix that Salvi had stabbed into his back had pierced through his chest and killed him. The death was ruled as self-

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defense. Still, what she’d been through only made her want to get back out there and do her job even more. There were criminals to be caught. She was needed. “So…” Doctor Marr looked at her in earnest, examining her carefully with his thin, angular face. It always bore a look of deep concern, as though he was about to tell her bad news. “How have you been sleeping?” “Fine,” she said evenly. “No nightmares at all?” “No.” “No flashbacks of the attack?” “No.” “And your emotions? Have they been steady? No outbursts? No unexplained tears?” “No.” His eyes pierced hers in analysis but she held his stare evenly. “So you believe, in your gut, you’re ready to face whatever may come at you out there on the street?” “Yes.” “You’re mentally prepared for someone to come at you with a gun? A knife? Their fists?” “Yes.” “And how do you think you will react when they do?” She eyed him carefully. “Well, it depends on the situation, but I will defer to my training and do what I need to do to ensure everyone’s safety.” “And if you can’t? Ensure everyone’s safety?” She stared at him. “Then I will do whatever I need to do to stop whoever is threatening everyone’s safety. As is my job.” He continued to study her, as though she was a painting and he was trying to ascertain the artist’s meaning behind the work.

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“You’re very stoic, detective,” he said eventually. “I know it comes with wearing a badge, that need to be strong, to be invincible, but it takes a much stronger person to admit weakness. To admit they need help. So if you feel any–” “I don’t.” He stared at her. “I know that’s not what you want to hear,” she said, “but it’s the truth. My… my upbringing… I grew up fast and strength was required. Mental strength–” “You’re referring to your sister’s suicide?” Salvi paused. An image of Faith hanging from the ceiling fan flashed inside her mind. “Yes,” she said. “Among other things. I left home young, fended for myself. I learned resilience a long time ago. It’s a part of who I am now. I’m not a weepy little girl. If I was, I wouldn’t last a day in this job. You know that. You know it takes a certain type to do what I do. I like my job, Doctor Marr, and I would like to get back out there and do it. I want to keep people safe and take down the ones who threaten their safety.” “You faced a serial killer, detective. He almost killed you.” “Yes. Almost. But he didn’t. And you’re wrong.” “I’m wrong?” his thick brows furrowed. “About what?” “I didn’t face a serial killer, technically I faced two. And I am still standing to tell the tale.” “Yes, you did,” he nodded. “And one of them is still alive. Edward Moses, Subjugate-52. How does that make you feel?” “He’s locked up in the Solme Complex. I feel fine about that.” Marr nodded again. She could see his mind ticking over as he scrolled through the data once more. “Come on, Doctor,” Salvi smiled playfully. “I know you’re looking for a reason to find something wrong with me, but you won’t, and you know it.”

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He returned his analytical eyes to her. “I took down a serial killer,” she said. “There is nothing more cathartic than that.” She watched as his mind seemed to circle around some more, before he sighed and held the data pane out to her. “Sign at the bottom and you’re free to go.” She reached for the pane but he quickly pulled it away again. She looked back at him, curious. “But the second you feel any cracks in this stoic façade of yours, detective, you call me. Understand?” She contemplated his words for a moment, then nodded. “Of course.”

It was mid-afternoon when Salvi entered the large, graywalled and mirror-windowed building that was the home of the San Francisco Police Department’s hub 9 precinct. She gave a nod to those manning the reception desk behind blast-proof glass windows, flicking her eyes to the data screens behind them displaying all the alerts. Though the past few weeks had been busy, especially with her being desk-bound, nothing looked out of the ordinary on the list of current call-outs. She swiped the iPort strapped to her wrist over the console on the wall, to obtain the necessary clearance to access the back of house offices. Once her ID and badge number were confirmed, the door unlocked and she passed on through. She made her way down the corridor, passing digital screens displaying images of past department heroes, health and safety bulletins, the latest social news that celebrated all the recent hatches, matches and dispatches, and a call out for volunteers to assist in organizing the Christmas party, just several weeks away. When she arrived at the homicide

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bullpen, she saw it was empty and Ford’s office door was closed. She moved to her desk and shed her jacket, placed her gun in her drawer and studied her cast-free forearm. Sadie, the robo-cleaner, swished past on its way back to its containment cupboard, swiveling its head her way. “Good afternoon, Detective Brentt,” the computerized voice said. “Afternoon, Sadie,” she said, checking the time on her iPort screen as she sat down at her desk and logged into the SFPD hub 9 homicide portal. Riverton, the department’s dedicated AI, appeared on her screen, shimmering slightly in its golden androgynous form, pictured from the shoulders up. “Good afternoon Detective Brentt,” it said. “I see you’ve been cleared for active duty. Congratulations.” “Thank you, Riverton,” she said, then suddenly wondered whether Riverton had been tasked to watch her and report back to Doctor Marr. “Has Detective Beggs advised if we’re okay to close the Kelto’s Diner case yet?” “Yes, detective,” it answered. “I’ve completed the report and it is ready for your review and sign off.” “Great,” she said. “Please load it. End request.” As the file appeared in her portal on screen, Mitch entered the bullpen. Dressed in his usual black, with his long coat swishing behind him, he carried two coffees her way and held one out to her. “Detective Grenville,” she smiled, taking the coffee as the aroma of arabica beans filled the air around her. “What’s this?” “It’s celebratory, I hope,” he said, dark green eyes studying hers. “I’m assuming you got good news today?” “I did,” she said. “I’m back on active.” She raised her coffee to his and they tapped their cups together.

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“That’s good news,” he said. “And the arm?” “Fighting fit and ready to slug someone.” A smile curled the corner of his mouth. “You are back.” “Yeah. I am,” she said. The silence settled around them, as their eyes remained connected. It didn’t last long though, as Beggs and Caine soon entered. “Hey!” Beggs said. “What’s the story? Do I have a partner that can work yet or not?” Salvi looked at him. “I have been working these past weeks. You’ve enjoyed making me your desk bitch, remember?” Beggs gave a craggy laugh and Caine grinned his Hollywood smile. It was easy to see why the two had been dubbed ‘the mobster and the movie star’ by their fellow detectives. “But that ends today,” Salvi told Beggs. “You do your own shit from now on.” Now it was Caine’s turn to laugh. He slapped Beggs on the back. “Bet you’re wishing you still had me as a partner, huh?” Beggs gave him a distasteful look. “I don’t know which one of you is worse,” he muttered. Detective Lieutenant Ford’s door opened and she stood there with her hands on her hips. “Grenville, Caine,” she hiked her thumb inside her office. Mitch and Caine moved at her order, while Ford turned her eyes to Salvi. “You good?” “I’m good,” Salvi smiled. Ford gave a single nod, then moved back inside her office. Salvi turned her eyes to the mugshows on the wall. She scanned each face to see if any new ones had appeared since that morning, but they hadn’t. The same top ten faces displayed, turned about slowly to provide a 360 degree view of their features. She studied them carefully like she did

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every day, wanting to etch the faces into her memory so that if she passed them on the street she could take them down and put a new face on those mugshows. Hernandez and Bronte entered the bullpen then, deep in conversation as they made their way to their desks. “There was no B&E and the security footage was clean,” Bronte said with his deep voice. “I think this was a targeted hit.” “What case is this?” Salvi asked, curious. They looked over at her. “Randy’s Retrotech,” Hernandez told her, the gold chain around his neck shining in the office lights. “The store owner in the ‘Mission that took a bullet to the head. The place looks pretty clean and some hacker asshole wiped the footage. It doesn’t look like anything’s missing, but we’re getting the family to take a closer look.” “We’ve gotta stop these hackers from killing our evidence,” Beggs said. “Is it just me or does it seem like this is happening more often?” “It ain’t you, old man,” Bronte said, flashing a grin, which looked pearly against his dark skin. “These assholes are getting smarter.” Beggs gave him the finger and Bronte turned his smile to his console. “Riverton, check in with Cyber to see if they can trace who did the hack on the surveillance footage at Randy’s Retrotech. End request.” “Yes, Detective Bronte,” Riverton’s voice sounded. “Hey, so I take it you got your clearance?” Hernandez asked, walking toward Salvi with his empty coffee cup, smoothing back his jet-black hair. “Sure did,” she answered. “Alright,” he nodded, and continued out the door, heading for the coffee machine in the break room down the corridor.

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Ford’s office door opened again and Mitch and Caine poured out, both heading straight for the bullpen exit. “New case?” she asked them. Mitch shook his head. “Just a new lead on the Langford case.” “Brentt?” Ford called from her office. “A word?” Salvi stood and headed into Ford’s office. The Detective Lieutenant motioned for her to close the door. “What is it?” Salvi asked. “Sit,” Ford said, motioning to one of the guest chairs at her desk. Salvi obliged. “So you got your clearance,” Ford said, studying her. “That’s good. And you’re sure everything else is good? You’re happy to be back on the streets?” “Yeah,” Salvi said. “Let me guess, Doctor Marr put some note on my file to keep an eye on me?” “No,” Ford said frankly. “I’m asking for myself. If you screw up out there, it comes back on me. So, one more time, are you good?” Salvi stared at her boss; broad-shouldered, solid arms, hard blue eyes that had no time for bullshit. “Couldn’t be better,” Salvi said firmly. “Good. Now, I had a call from Attis Solme,” she said, leaning her elbows on the desk and hulking her shoulders. “Solme?” Salvi frowned. “What does he want?” “He heard you were back on active. He wants to speak.” Salvi frowned further. “I only just got cleared. How’d he hear that so soon?” Ford shrugged. “I don’t know. He probably called the front office to see when you were due back. Guess he had faith that you’d make your scheduled return.” Salvi nodded to herself as she stared at Ford, wondering

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whether Solme had heard the news from her boss. When she’d interviewed Solme during the Bountiful case, he’d told Salvi that he and Ford went way back. Turns out, as Mitch had discovered, it was way back to a drink-drive accident where Solme had taken the hit for Ford. “Anyway,” Ford said, “he wants to introduce you to his new head psych at the complex.” “Why?” Salvi asked. “The Bountiful case is closed.” “The case may be closed but apparently Subjugate-52 has been asking for you.” Ford’s eyes seemed to pierce Salvi’s as though testing her true resolve on returning to active duty. Despite not wanting to, Salvi couldn’t help but pause at the mention of Subjugate-52’s name. “52?” she said. “Why?” “I don’t know, I’m just the goddamn messenger. You call ‘em, or you don’t. It’s up to you. Whatever you do, just be careful,” Ford said. Salvi stared at her. “Why?” Ford shrugged. “I don’t know, Brentt,” she said sarcastically. “Maybe an ex-serial killer personally requesting to see you isn’t something you should take lightly. The last thing you want is to befriend this guy. The man was a brutal murderer.” Salvi nodded, then smiled as she stood. “But there’s no problem, right,” she said, “because the Solme Complex’s treatment works.” Salvi left the office with Ford’s eyes hot on her back. Although the Subjugates and Serenes had aided her in the Bountiful case, indicating that perhaps the treatment did work, deep down there was still a part of her that wondered about Subjugate-52. After all, she had managed to get him to break his Serenity relatively easily, and that was something she just couldn’t shake. Her old partner, Stan Stanlevski, had always

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driven that into her: to listen to her gut, to use her senses. Right now, her gut still felt unease when it came to the Subjugate. She made her way back to her desk and saw Beggs watching her from where he sat opposite. “What was that about?” he asked. Salvi waved it off. “Just my last case.” “Well that’s closed, right?” he said. “So let’s get to closing this Kelto’s Diner one.” Salvi shook her head at him. Beggs smiled. “Hey, I know you want to hit the streets now you’re back, but we gotta close this other shit out first. It’s ain’t all fun and games, Brentt.” “Especially with you as my partner,” she said dryly. “Well,” he said, “you can always go back to Grenville.” Salvi shrugged. “Ford wanted the switch up. Not my choice,” she lied. Beggs stared at her a moment and she thought she caught a look of doubt in his eyes, before he turned back to his screen.

Salvi was ready to close the Kelto’s Diner case. She’d read through the report carefully and was satisfied everything was in order. With dozens of witnesses to the murder and security footage inside the diner, it was pretty clear as to what had happened and why. At approximately 2.16pm on Wednesday November 14th, Tynan Williams, 23 years old, entered Kelto’s Diner and walked up to Joseph Delroy, 47 years old, who sat eating his lunch at a table in the middle of the restaurant. Williams pulled a gun and fired at Delroy. Delroy somehow managed to pull his own gun and shot back, but quickly succumbed to his wounds. Witnesses state that as Delroy lay dead on the floor in a pool of blood, Williams reloaded

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and continued to fire, screaming at Delroy that he owed him money. Witnesses stated that Williams paced the diner, breathing heavily in an agitated state, possibly on some kind of narcotic, before he too succumbed to his injuries and collapsed on the floor. Ambulance staff arrived in time to perform CPR and keep Williams alive long enough to make it to the hospital where he later died. Further investigation by Salvi and Beggs had confirmed Joseph Delroy owned a cleaning business in the city and that Tynan Williams was an employee. Having checked their banking records, it appeared as though Delroy had been paying Williams the same amount for some time and didn’t look to have missed any payments. With the tighter gun ownership laws in California, neither of their weapons were registered. As much as Salvi wanted to know what Williams was referring to when he said Delroy owed him money – was it a card game? Overtime payments? – they did not have the time nor the resources to pursue the finer detail. There were other cases that needed their attention. Besides, the details would not alter the facts of this case, nor would they affect its closure. Williams murdered Delroy in cold blood and Delroy killed Williams in self-defense, in front of several witnesses and captured on security footage. End of story. Case closed. Salvi tapped the glass display of her console, shutting the file down. She pressed her left thumb against the authorization panel beside her console. It flashed blue as it read her print, then green, indicating the department’s system had accepted it. She then scrawled her signature onto the scratch pad, it registered on the display, then she tapped “File Report”. Off it went, to be stored in their archived data bank. “That Kelto’s Diner case wound up yet?” Ford asked, approaching her from behind.

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“Yeah,” Salvi said, swinging her chair around to face her. “That should help your monthly stats to Chief Garrett.” “I do like a closed case,” Ford said, pulling her coat over her broad shoulders. “Now if you could just tackle the thousands of other unsolved cases we have that’d be great.” “I’ll do my best,” Salvi smiled, as Ford checked her iPort. “I gotta go or my wife will kill me. My kid’s recital is tonight.” “Enjoy. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ford nodded, walking to the door. “Don’t burn yourself out on the first day back, Brentt.” Salvi watched her leave then turned her eyes to the mugshows by the door again. She looked over at Hernandez and Bronte working away silently at their desks, then shifted her eyes to the empty desks of Mitch and Caine, then to that of Beggs. She checked her iPort, saw it was nearing 7pm, so decided to take Ford’s advice, log off and head home.

She walked into her Sky Tower apartment complex close to 7.30pm. The auto-concierge hologram came to life, projected from a sensor on the wall, welcoming her. As usual she ignored it, heading straight to the elevator, listening as her boots tapped on the white polished tiled floors of the grand foyer. When she stepped inside her apartment on the 77th floor and closed the door behind her, she paused a moment listening for the chime of the digital lock behind her. Then she waited a few moments more. She listened for any sounds that shouldn’t be there, studied the apartment for anything out of place. It was the only thing that had changed about her life since the Bountiful case. Since

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she’d arrived home to the noises coming from her bedroom. Since she’d found surveillance cameras set up within her air conditioning vents. Since a serial killer had been watching her private moments. She regularly checked the vents now, just to be sure no one else was watching her. Of course, she never told Doctor Marr this. He didn’t need to know she’d merely added a few seconds onto her daily routine. She moved to her bedroom and lost her lenses, her iPort and comms earpiece, then changed into her gym wear and began to jog on the treadmill in her workout station in the corner of her living room. As she ran, she stared out her floor-to-ceiling windows at the Golden Gate Bridge in the near distance, alight and peeking through the surrounding mist, and as she raised her heartbeat and began to sweat, her mind cycled over the day. She kept wondering what had been on that data pane Doctor Marr had been reviewing, kept seeing Mitch hand her the coffee, kept wondering how Attis Solme had known she was back on duty so fast, kept picturing Subjugate-52 covered in Bio-Lume staring at her. She gave up running after a while, looking to distract her mind. She ate her nutritional micro-dinner, then relaxed beneath the massaging hydro-spray of her shower, before making her way to her soft white bed and falling into it. As she lay in the dark, staring up at the faint light upon her ceiling, partly starlight this high up but partly neon hue from the city around her, she thought once more about her last case; about the camera in the vent opposite her bed, and what it had filmed her doing. With Mitch. Then she thought of the disc Mitch had handed to her after their last case; the footage, of them. He thought she’d want to be the one to destroy it, for peace of mind.

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Her eyes drifted to the set of drawers beneath the vent, where, buried deep within the back corner, alongside Faith’s rosary beads, now sat the disc of her and Mitch. For some reason she hadn’t been able to bring herself to be rid of it.

Salvi was sure she had just closed her eyes when her iPort began to ring on the bedside table. It was Beggs, and she’d come to realize the guy was old school and rarely opted for holo-calls. She answered it, projecting the voice call from its speaker. “Brentt?” he said, as though he’d just awoken too. “Yeah?” she answered, her own voice husky. “We got a body in the Sensation. Riverton’s sending you the exact coordinates. I’ll meet you there.”

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2: ABSENT MINDS Salvi stood on the apartment’s balcony, dressed in her crime scene containment suit, gloves and sole plates, as she studied the body before her. The man, whom Riverton had identified as 34-year-old Devon Barker, the owner of the apartment, lay face down, surrounded by shattered glass. Beside him on the ground lay a metal pole of some kind; no doubt the reason for the back of his skull being smashed in. “Jesus,” Beggs muttered as he crouched down to take a better look. His wrinkled face studied the wounds. “That’s gotta take some effort.” Salvi nodded in agreement. “Or some anger. Wonder what he did to deserve that?” Beggs stood up again, groaning a little and rubbing his creaky knees. “Let’s ask the girlfriend that.” He left the balcony and stepped back inside the apartment. Salvi glanced up at the police drone hovering in the sky close by, filming the scene, then she turned and followed Beggs inside. It was a high spec pad in a high spec neighborhood. Minimalist, with lots of white smooth surfaces and everything

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controlled by the house AI. At least, when the house AI was working. The system had apparently crashed and was currently offline. The tenants were young and beautiful. At least the guy had been before the pole to his head. From the looks of the moving photos on the walls, the woman was a model, and, from the equipment laying around, the victim had probably been the photographer. They found the girlfriend in the bedroom with a beat cop, named Vincent, watching over her. She was sitting in bed with the satin sheets resting around her waist. She had a petite frame with dark bottle-blonde hair and East Asian features. Her top half was adorned in a pink slinky camisole and her hair was all messed up like she’d been sleeping. Or maybe fighting. The woman looked tired, numb. Perhaps she was still drunk. Salvi spotted an empty wine bottle on the bedside table and clothes strewn across the floor. She smelled incense and saw the remnants in a small glass container on a dresser. “She been there the whole time?” Beggs asked Officer Vincent, who nodded. “We came out on a domestic disturbance. Neighbors reported glass smashing and banging. When we got here another neighbor told us about the body on the balcony. No one answered our knocks, so we broke the door down. Found her in bed. Looked like she just woke up at the sound of our arrival.” Beggs nodded and Salvi stepped closer to the woman, angling the projection of her holo-badge toward her. “I’m Detective Brentt and this is Senior Detective Beggs,” she pointed to her partner. “We need to ask you some questions about what happened here tonight.” The model looked at Salvi, but her eyes were distant.

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“That’s you in the photos on the wall, right?” Salvi asked. “You live here?” She nodded, still vague, and looking a little green, like maybe she wanted to throw up. “What’s your name?” Salvi asked. The model didn’t answer. Instead she just stared ahead at nothing, her long hair hanging forward over the sides of her face. Salvi clicked her fingers in front of the woman, until her gaze moved back to hers. Salvi was starting to question whether her state was due to some narcotic rather than the wine. “Have you taken something?” Salvi asked. “Do you need medical attention?” “We offered that before,” Vincent said. “She declined. Said she just wanted to sleep.” “We’ll get you some medical attention, huh?” Salvi said, but the woman shook her head and turned back to stare at nothing. Beggs moved over to a small glittery handbag lying on the floor. He picked it up in his gloved hands and rifled through until he pulled out some ID. “Myki Natashi,” Beggs said. Salvi turned back to the woman. “Myki? That your name?” The woman continued to stare at nothing. “Hey! Myki!” Salvi called to her, snapping her fingers again. “You need to tell us what happened. Did you attack your boyfriend out there or did someone else do this?” Myki rubbed her hand over her face and shivered. Salvi eyed the slinky top she wore, then moved to where a jacket lay nearby on the floor. She picked it up and went to drape it around Myki’s shoulders, but as soon as Salvi touched her, the woman flinched back, scrambling away. As she did, Salvi

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saw she was naked from the waist down, then noticed bruises on her wrists and minor blood stains on the mattress. She turned to the officer. “Get a paramedic in here.” She looked back at the cowering, still-dazed woman as Vincent vacated the room. “Myki, it’s okay. We’re here to help you. We’re going to take you to a hospital to get checked out. Alright?” “Rape and murder?” Beggs said quietly. Salvi nodded. “Maybe.” Vincent returned with the paramedic who, armed with a needle, tried to approach Myki, but it only made the woman cower even more, throwing herself out of the bed and crawling into the corner of the room. “No, no, no,” she whimpered, still dazed. Salvi moved to her. “It’s alright, Myki. We’re not going to hurt you.” The woman suddenly lashed out and nails slashed down the side of Salvi’s neck. Wincing, Salvi grabbed the woman’s arms and pinned them at her sides. Myki screamed and struggled in response. “No! No more. Please!” she cried. “Can I get some sedation here!” Salvi barked, holding her down. The paramedic swooped in and jabbed a needle into the woman’s arm. Myki’s eyes filled with tears. “No more… Please…” The room filled with her soft cries as they waited for her body to relax and her eyes to close, before they hauled her onto a gurney. Salvi watched as they covered and strapped her in. They were about to wheel her out of the apartment when she noticed a mark on the side of Myki’s face. “Wait,” Salvi told the paramedic, stepping closer. She took

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Myki’s unconscious chin and turned her face to view both sides of it. There were two strange markings on either temple, indentations, like something had been pressed against her skin. Salvi glanced around the room but couldn’t see any kind of fashion headwear that Myki might’ve worn that night. She looked back to the unconscious woman and the strange indentations. She knew her holo-badge would be recording footage, but Salvi engaged her iPort camera and captured the markings regardless. When she was done, she nodded for Vincent and the paramedic to take Myki away, and uploaded the images to Riverton, to put into the case file. “We’ll get more sense out of her once she sleeps it off anyway,” Beggs said. Salvi nodded and touched her burning neck. She pulled her gloved fingers away to see blood on them. Beggs chuckled. “A catfight on your first day back, Salv? Thatta girl.” Salvi shot Beggs an unaffected look. “Thanks for your help, by the way.” Beggs shrugged. “Ah, you had it covered.” Salvi glanced around the apartment again. “So… the question is, did he rape her, then she killed him? Or was someone else here?” “Well, the cop said they had to break down the door, so it was locked. It wasn’t a break-in.” “The AI system is down. Coincidence?” Salvi moved out onto the balcony again into the dark night air, glancing around at the neighboring apartments. “Unless someone came in this way.” Beggs sized up the distance between balconies, then glanced over the side to the street below. “It’s a looong way down.” Salvi looked at the flashing neon lights of the district below known as the Sensation, saw the bodies mingling around on

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the street, even at this hour. The ‘Sation promised to deliver entertainment 24/7, and it held true to its word. The party precinct never slept and whatever party you wanted, the ‘Sation catered for it. “Plenty of apartments around,” Beggs said. “Someone must’ve seen something.” Salvi nodded then tapped at the iPort strapped to her wrist and initiated her comms. The lenses in her eyes turned a transparent silver and Riverton appeared. “Detective Brentt,” it said, “how may I help you?” “Riverton, the apartment’s AI is currently offline. We’ll need a warrant to analyze its data and see if someone hacked it for entry.” “Yes, detective,” it said. “Warrant underway for access to security footage, voice recordings, and engagement of lighting and other electronic sensors.” “And I need you to get the drone to scour the surrounding apartment balconies. If the perp came in that way, I want to know if they left anything behind. I also want a good look at any snooping neighbors.” “Yes, detective.” Salvi, through the silver sheen of her lenses, saw the SFPD drone move to begin scanning the surrounding balconies in a sweeping pattern. “Also check the drone and street footage in the area for the past, say, two hours also.” “Yes, detective.” “Thank you, Riverton. End request.” Riverton disappeared, and her lenses cleared again. She looked back down at the man with the smashed in skull, then at the aluminum bar, and narrowed her eyes. “Shit… It’s the leg of a camera tripod. He was beaten to death with his own tripod.”

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“They had one hell of a party, that’s for sure,” Beggs said, then glanced up at the curious neighbors gathered on the next balcony over. He angled his holo-badge toward them. “We’re coming over for a chat,” he called. “Meet us at your front door, please.” Beggs headed for the apartment’s front door, motioning Salvi to join him. She took one last look at the ‘Sation’s pulsing lights, at the dead man laying on the balcony, then at the sexy images of Myki Natashi on the walls. Then she moved to the door where the officer, Vincent, stood, discarded her gloves, containment suit, and sole plates into a CSI bag, labelled it, and followed Beggs out the door.

Salvi and Beggs split the residents of the vic’s immediate neighboring apartment, who’d reported the body on the balcony to police. The witnesses, like Myki and the vic, were late 20s or early 30s, buff and beautiful, and their home was similarly adorned with sleek aesthetics and the best house AI money could buy. While Beggs took the woman into the kitchen area, Salvi questioned the man, Rusty Connor, by the doors of their balcony. “And what time was this?” Salvi asked Connor, who stood around 6ft and weighed a good 200lbs. – most of it muscle. Turned out he owned one of the Gym-Fit outlets, where members stood in special machines that stimulated muscle growth. It was the perfectly lazy way to get buff and an incredibly popular way to ‘exercise’. “It was, like, after midnight,” Connor said, scratching his fingers through his brown bed hair. “And you didn’t see anyone?” she asked. Connor shook his head. “No. By the time I got out of bed

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and went out there, I just saw their leg as they moved back inside.” “What were they wearing?” “I didn’t catch what exactly. I just saw a black leg.” “Black pants?” He nodded. “Pants and shoes. It was all black.” “Do you know what type of black material it was? If they were black jeans or sweats or something else?” “I didn’t get a look. I just saw black.” “Did you hear any voices?” she asked. “Did it sound like more than one person?” He shook his head. “No, and I didn’t stick around to find out. I saw the guy with his head smashed in and ran back inside to contact you guys, and they told me a unit was already on the way.” Salvi nodded. “Did they party much?” “Them?” he hiked his thumb to Myki’s apartment. “No, they were pretty quiet. I think they did their partying elsewhere. I never saw them much.” “What about arguments or any other disturbances?” Connor shook his head. “No. They were quiet.” “Okay. Did you see anyone else on the other balconies who might’ve seen something?” Connor thought for a moment. “I didn’t notice any the first time, but when I came out again after calling you, yeah, there were some overhead and across the way.” He pointed across the street to another tower of apartments. Salvi studied them and saw the blinds in one window move. Someone was watching them. It was bound to happen with all the commotion, but the question was, did someone witness the crime or the perpetrators, or were they just rubbernecking now?

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Her eyes darted to the drone that slowly moved across the apartments filming the surrounding balconies, before she looked back to Connor. “Alright,” she said. “If you think of anything else, you contact me at hub 9. Got it?” Connor nodded. “Sure.” Salvi looked to Beggs, who was finishing up interviewing Connor’s partner. He caught her eye, thanked the woman, then began heading for the door. Salvi followed him outside into the plush carpeted corridor, where Beggs sighed and turned to her. “It’s gonna take us hours to interview all the surrounding neighbors here and across the way, even using some of the uniforms.” Salvi nodded. “Yeah.” Beggs grinned. “You sure picked a real good night to start back, Brentt.” “Tell me about it,” she said. “I’ll take evens, you take odds,” he said, then moved off to another apartment.

Salvi pressed the buzzer on the door, then showed her face to the security camera. The door opened and Mitch stood there. He was shirtless, his hair ruffled, eyes squinting in the light. He’d buzzed her up from the street, of course, so her appearance at his front door wasn’t a surprise. “Sorry to wake you,” she said, then hesitated when she saw him rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “This was a bad idea… I shouldn’t have come.” “I’m awake now,” he said, then opened his door further and walked back inside his molecular apartment. Salvi

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followed, watching as the pink and red lights of the club in the alleyway behind flashed through the porthole window beside his bed, blending with the apartment’s green BioLume light on the ceiling. “You caught a late one?” he said, yawning, and sitting down at his two-chair table in the tiny studio-like layout. His whole apartment was actually smaller than the living area of hers. She nodded, taking the other seat. “Pretty brutal murder in the Sensation.” “Yeah?” he said, motioning to the healing patch over her scratched neck. “That’s new. You caught ‘em?” “No. The vic’s girlfriend did this.” “She the one?” “Not sure yet… but my gut says no. I don’t think she’d have the strength to do what was done to the vic. Besides, we sent her off the hospital, she’s possibly a victim of a 261.” He nodded and the silence sat. “Sounds like you had an interesting first day back,” he eventually said. “Yeah,” she nodded, and they stared at each other across the table, before he took her right forearm and studied it. “It’s nice to finally have that cast removed,” she said, twisting her arm about, “and to be off desk duty.” “How’d it go with Beggs today?” he asked. She shrugged. “Alright. How you doing with Caine?” “Alright.” Mitch studied her again, trying to read something on her face. “Why are you here, Salvi?” She thought it over. “Guess I missed talking over a case with my old partner.” He nodded. “You woke me up at 3.37am to talk about your case?”

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She stared at him. Mitch had been patient these past several weeks. She’d needed space after the Bountiful case and he’d given it to her. They’d been cordial, seeing each other only when Mitch and Caine came into the station hub, when Ford delivered team updates. They’d intentionally kept their distance, aware they’d drawn curiosity from their colleagues as to why they’d suddenly changed partners. Ford had made a decent excuse about training Salvi up with different partners, but whether people bought it… Once upon a time it would’ve bothered her to know people were possibly speculating about her life, private as she was, but now… she wasn’t sure she cared any more. Maybe the last case had affected her more than she’d cared to admit. Maybe life was too short not to acknowledge the things you cared about; the people you cared about. Maybe she was done with her self-imposed penitence, denying herself happiness and pleasure. “I guess I wanted to see you,” she admitted. Despite needing that space after the Bountiful case, Mitch had never been far from her mind. That’s why she’d kept that disc. That’s why she’d watched it too. More than once. He nodded, then stood from his chair. “It’s late, Salvi.” She felt her stomach sink a little; regretted having come here like this. “I know…” She nodded and stood. “I’m sorry.” She moved to the door and he followed her. “You don’t have to go. That’s not what I’m saying.” She turned around to face him. “I told you I’d be here when you were ready to see where this goes,” he said. “I just didn’t expect it to be at nearly four o’clock in the morning.” She smiled softly. “You should know by now that nothing is straightforward with me.”

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He said nothing. She stared deep into his eyes. “I guess I just wanted you to know that I’m… back.” He nodded and raised his hand to study the healing patch on the side of her neck. She felt his warm fingers brush her skin, then he locked his gaze with hers again. “Does that mean you want to stay?” Her eyes poured warmth into his. “Yeah. I do.”

Salvi stood dressed, staring out the circular window of Mitch’s apartment. In the corner of her eye she saw him blink awake and stretch out. He saw her by the window, grabbed his iPort off the bedside table and tilted it to view the time. “Doing another runner on me?” he asked, studying her. She looked at him and smiled. “If I was doing a runner I’d be gone by now.” “And yet you’re not laying here beside me in bed.” “I did last night. Isn’t that enough for now?” Mitch rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Guess it’s going to have to be.” Salvi walked to the door, pausing when she reached it. “Intimacy isn’t my strong suit, Mitch.” She opened the door and looked back at him. “But… maybe one day it will be.”

Salvi read through the Medical Examiner’s report on their photographer vic, Devon Barker. Dr Kim Weston had estimated the time of death to be around 12.30am. Cause of death was no surprise; traumatic brain injury. The apartment was clean of fingerprints, but Salvi noted that Weston had

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managed to collect some fibers from the vic which she was taking a closer look at. Hernandez and Bronte entered the bullpen just as she peeled the healing patch off her neck. The abrasions had already sealed over and were well on their way to disappearing altogether. The healing patches really were a marvel of modern medicine. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Hernandez joked, eyeing her neck. “First day back and you got into it again, Salv?” Bronte’s deep voice was amused. “She’s a scrapper this one,” Hernandez grinned. She smiled at them. “Would you like me to give you matching ones?” “Meow!” Hernandez laughed, walking over to his desk. Bronte grinned and followed, as Beggs entered sipping a coffee. “Hey,” Salvi greeted him. “Any word on when we can see Myki Natashi?” “Not yet, but let’s head down to the hospital now, huh?” Salvi nodded and moved to collect her coat. “You see Weston’s report?” “Yeah. Nothing we didn’t expect. How’s Riverton going with the warrant for the house AI?” “Still working on it,” Salvi said, moving for the door. “Wait,” Ford called as she emerged from her office. “I’ve got an update from Narcotics. Where’re Grenville and Caine?” “Right here,” Mitch said as he entered the bullpen alone. Salvi locked eyes with his briefly, before turning back to Ford. “And Caine?” Ford asked Mitch. “He’s checking on something. I’ll update him.” “Alright,” Ford said, “then gather round.”

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Hernandez and Bronte moved to join them, as Salvi, Beggs and Mitch clustered near Ford. “Narcotics have released a warning on a new nasty that’s about to hit the streets,” Ford told them. “Well, they think it’s already on the streets, but that it’s only a matter of time before it hits in a big way. Word is, it’s like meth times a thousand. They’re trying to find out where it’s coming from but want us to keep our ears to the ground. If anyone’s going to hear about this drug, it’s us, because it sounds like we’ll be the ones wiping the bodies off the sidewalks. Got it?” The team nodded, as Hernandez posed a question. “This drug got a street name yet?” “Yeah,” Ford said, “they’re calling it Fyte. That’s F-Y-T-E.” “Well, that sound ominous,” Bronte said. “Great,” Beggs said with a sarcastic tone. “So it’s called Fyte and it’s a souped-up version of meth. That should make our jobs easier then.” “Hey, criminals keep evolving, so we gotta evolve with ‘em, Beggs,” Ford said. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he muttered. “Just keep your eyes and ears out, right?” Ford said. “We’re looking for particularly violent crimes that may have involved drug use.” Salvi’s mind turned over the footage from Kelto’s Diner of Tynan Williams pacing around as the blood poured from his bullet wounds. She looked back at Ford. “Like, maybe the Kelto’s Diner shoot-out?” she asked, curious. “Witnesses said Williams appeared to be on something that made him agitated and aggressive, and he was active a lot longer than he should’ve been with that blood loss. Do we need to get a toxicology report on this guy?” Ford sighed. “Let’s not reopen a case unless we have to.”

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“Our photographer last night had his head smashed in good,” Beggs added, looking at Salvi with raised eyebrows, “and his girlfriend was pretty out of it too.” “Doped up, though,” Salvi said. “Not aggressive.” “Your scratched neck says otherwise.” Salvi shrugged. “It was a normal reaction to strangers wanting to touch her. She was probably in shock from the trauma of what happened.” “Or coming down from a night on Fyte.” “Yeah, look,” Ford said, “as much as we’d like to listen to you two argue all day, let’s not. All of you just take note of any homicide that looks to have drugs involved, and when you come to a decision amongst yourselves,” she shot Salvi and Beggs a look, “then report it to me, alright? If we think this Fyte drug might be connected then we’ll need to share details with Narcotics.” The team nodded and Ford moved back to her office. “Let’s hit that hospital,” Beggs said walking out the door. Salvi locked eyes with Mitch one last time, then followed.

Salvi and Beggs walked along the corridors of the hospital with Doctor Goldfarb, who’d been attending to Myki Natashi. Goldfarb, with bright orange hair and a pierced nose, walked quickly, studying a data pane before her as she spoke. “Her injuries could either be rape or very enthusiastic sex, it’s hard to say, and so far she’s denying the rape,” the doctor told them. “We’ve flushed her system of the drugs and are awaiting toxicology to confirm what she was on exactly, but if I had to hazard a guess, it was something along the lines of ecstasy or some derivative of that. She’s claiming no memory of the night, or of her partner’s death.” They arrived outside

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Myki’s room. “So good luck with that.” The doctor waved them forward, then continued down the corridor. Salvi and Beggs entered the room. Myki lay back on a bed of pillows. Her face looked a little pale, but she seemed more alert than the previous evening. Beggs gave Salvi a nod to lead, as they engaged their holo-badges. “Myki, hi,” Salvi said gently, noticing the indents on the sides of her face had filled out again, leaving no trace of their prior existence. “I’m not sure whether you remember us from last night, but I’m Detective Brentt and this is Senior Detective Beggs.” Myki studied their holo-badges, her mind clearly trawling its memory, but the blank look indicated it had come up short. She didn’t remember them. “How are you feeling today?” Salvi asked. “A-alright,” Myki eventually said, eyes still darting between their holo-badges. “We’d like to ask you some questions, okay?” Myki nodded, bringing her hands together in her lap and fidgeting with her fingers. “We’re very sorry for what happened, Myki,” Salvi said gently. “Devon Barker, he was your boyfriend?” Myki nodded, lowering her face a little, eyebrows knitting in torment. “Did he hurt you, Myki?” The model’s brows smoothed out and she looked up at her. “No.” “Do you know who killed him?” Myki lowered her eyes again, shook her head. “You don’t remember anything about what happened?” “No,” she said softly, gaze still fixed on the bed in front of her. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”

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Myki’s mind turned over for a moment. “Dinner. We had dinner.” “Where?” “Lantasia’s. In the Sensation.” “What time was this?” “Er… early. Around 6.30pm.” “Do you remember what you ate?” Myki looked up at her, confused. “It was just you and Devon? What did you eat?” “Lobster. Crème brûlée.” “You have much to drink?” Myki shrugged. “A little. A bottle or so of champagne.” “A bottle on your own or with Devon?” “Together.” “Were you celebrating something?” Beggs spoke up. Myki looked at him and shook her head. “And you can’t remember what happened after that?” Salvi asked. Myki’s eyes searched the room as she trawled for a memory. “I think we had more drinks.” “You went out somewhere or at home?” “I…” She trawled her memory some more, before she looked away to the window. “I don’t remember.” Salvi and Beggs exchanged a look. “Alright,” Salvi said. “Myki, how would you describe your relationship with Devon?” “Fine… We talked of marriage.” “How long had you been dating?” She shrugged. “About… three months.” “And you were talking about marriage after three months?” Myki looked at her. “We were in love. He was a romantic. He treated me well.”

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“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt him?” Myki shook her head. “Did he have any business troubles?” Beggs asked. “Owe any money? Anything like that?” “No. Not that I know of.” “So you can’t think of any reason why someone broke into your apartment and killed him?” Salvi asked. Myki looked down at her fingers again. Salvi noted her hands were shaking. Salvi wondered whether it was due to the drug withdrawal or if Myki was terrified of something. Salvi softened her voice. “If you’re scared, Myki, we can protect you.” “I don’t remember anything,” she said, her voice barely audible. Beggs exchanged another look with Salvi, which told her he was thinking the same thing: that Myki wasn’t telling them the entire truth; that she knew or at least suspected who had killed her partner. Her limited eye contact was a giveaway. It could’ve been shame, but Salvi wasn’t getting that feeling here. Myki didn’t want to tell the truth, and she struggled with lying. Salvi stepped closer. “We’re accessing the data from your apartment’s AI, Myki. Our department AI is also accessing nearby security footage. If you know who did this and don’t tell us, you are protecting them and you are hindering our investigation. Do you want Devon’s killer to walk free? You want his death to go unpunished?” “I don’t remember anything… I swear… I just went to sleep and when I woke up there were cops in my bedroom.” “So you remember going back to your apartment and getting into bed, then?” Salvi asked. “No, I… I just woke up and there were cops in my bedroom.”

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Tears began to roll down Myki’s cheeks, and she lowered her face into her hands and brushed them away. Salvi studied her. Myki was too raw right now. Salvi sensed she had layers to peel away, but they were fragile, and it would need to be done carefully. It was going to take time and patience to get this woman to talk. Beggs seemed to sense the same thing. He looked at Salvi and motioned for them to leave.

Salvi got back into Beggs’ sleek, black SFPD Raider. “So where to now?” she asked Beggs. He tapped at the Raider’s console. “Riverton? Request update. Barker case.” Riverton appeared on the console screen. “Yes, Detective Beggs. I think I may have found a link for you to investigate.” “Yeah?” Beggs said. “Proceed.” “Firstly, the warrant for the apartment AI has been granted. I have gained access to and analyzed the security footage and other sensory information at the apartment and confirm it has been erased. I’ve found evidence of a hack but have as yet been unable to trace the source. Whoever hacked the system was very good at wiping their fingerprints. All data from the two hours leading up to Barker’s death has been wiped and is irretrievable, this includes building security footage and the immediate surrounding street area. I have, however, scanned our facial recognition systems for the wider area. Two blocks away and shortly before the estimated time of death for Devon, the facial recognition systems detected a man by the name of Vincent Calabri, walking with two other men in the direction of the apartment. Mr Calabri has a small rap

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sheet and is in the employ of one Francis Mellon. Francis Mellon, detectives, is the ex-boyfriend of Myki Natashi.” Salvi and Beggs exchanged a look of surprise, as Riverton disappeared from the screen, replaced by socialite photographs of Myki and Francis together. “They dated for approximately three years.” “What was Calabri wearing?” Salvi asked. “Was he in black?” “No.” Riverton brought up a still image of the man walking along the street with his two associates. “He wore a white suit.” “He could’ve changed,” Beggs said. “What’s Mellon’s line of work? His name sounds familiar.” “He works in the financial industry and has no criminal record. However, he is a known acquaintance of John Dorant.” “Dorant?” Beggs said, glancing at Salvi. “So he has ties to organized crime then?” “Loosely, Detective Beggs,” Riverton said. “He has been linked to Dorant in terms of friendship. There is no evidence as yet of any business dealings.” “On the books, sure, but what about under the table?” Beggs said. “Dorant is a big fish.” “So Mellon has friends in high places,” Salvi said. “That could be why Myki’s claiming she doesn’t remember. She’s terrified.” Beggs nodded. “Sounds like it. We need to have a talk with Calabri.” Salvi nodded and looked back to the Raider’s console. “Riverton, what’s the status on Myki’s toxicology report?” “The results are in, however, I’m afraid they’re currently locked by the Narcotics Division.”

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“Locked?” Salvi said, darting a glance to Beggs. “This is our case. They can’t do that.” Beggs sighed. “Ah, shit. We’ve stepped into Narc territory. If they’re working on an undercover investigation involving Mellon or Dorant, we’re going to struggle to get near it.” Salvi looked back at Beggs. “This is a homicide, Beggs. We have every right to that information. Let’s head back to the hub and have a little chat with them, huh?”

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