DeathWeb (Fox Meridian Book 3) by Niall Teasdale Read Free Book Online Page A

think I need to think about it too hard…’
    ‘Don’t be so quick to judge. Could be a lot of travel, on and off planet. Pay’s good, equipment is excellent, but you could be away from home a lot and there may be a lot of pressure.’
    ‘Someone needs to talk to you about selling these jobs,’ Marie commented.
    ‘I just want her aware of what she’s getting into if she goes for it. Jackson kind of skipped the part where I was a member of the board and I’m not letting anyone else join up without full disclosure.’
    ‘Okay,’ Dillan said, holding up her hands. ‘I get it. It’s not all wine and roses. I’ll think about it and on Monday you can send me the contract paperwork.’
    ‘That doesn’t sound much like thinking about it.’
    ‘I’m a fast thinker.’
    13 th June.
    Harper Markus August did not look to be closing rapidly on his first century. At ninety-six, he looked more like a man of fifty, or younger, unless you looked into his eyes. His eyes and mouth had a few wrinkles around them, and the eyes themselves had been a deeper blue in his youth. But there was age and too much stress and unhappiness in those eyes. Fox could see even more of it now than she had the last time she had faced the old man. Whether it was the new stress of the charges against him or some relief at handing his granddaughter’s murder on to someone else, Harper August was aging.
    ‘You’ve news?’ August asked as Fox entered his office. He had a large townhouse not far from Central Park, and a large office within that. An entire wall of it had been set up as a video screen, which was unusual: there were people who avoided or could not have implants, but wearables were generally employed rather than old-style screens. Though Jackson’s office had a similar wall for visual presentation and Fox was unsure why he had it.
    ‘News, but not particularly good news,’ Fox replied. ‘Could my PA use your display wall?’
    August’s brow furrowed. ‘Computer, authorisation for Miss Meridian and her AI to access display features of office systems.’
    ‘Confirmed.’ The voice was flat, emotionless, clearly synthesised. August was a child of the last century and seemed to like his computers to be as dumb as possible.
    ‘Good afternoon, Mister August,’ Kit said from the video wall. She was dressed in her more formal outfit, with a pencil skirt replacing the shorter, bell-shaped one, pumps instead of boots, and her white-framed glasses perched on her nose. She seemed to recognise that August was not interested in talking to an AI and simply turned to toss up pictures of the victims: two rows of five, and one larger frame showing Patricia Randall, the first of them.
    ‘Am I to assume that the man responsible for Patricia’s death also killed these others?’ August asked. He had a quick mind, and a dangerous one.
    ‘I have tracked down five more murders in New York Metro with the same MO,’ Kit replied. ‘After that there were two in Cape Town, South Africa, and three in Berlin, Germany.’
    ‘Your granddaughter was the first,’ Fox said, ‘but this bastard was just getting started.’
    ‘You believe he’s still killing?’
    ‘The last victim was found this April. I have a contact in the UNTPP who’s liaising with the German police. When he strikes again, they’ll be looking at it as a serial with international aspects. They’ve got three corpses so I doubt they’d be willing to extradite, but if we can place evidence before their courts indicating he’s killed eleven instead of three, they’ll probably drop him in a hole on the Moon.’
    August gave a sigh, sitting back in his large, leather chair. ‘In truth… Nothing will bring back Patricia. Seeing some form of justice would bring a form of closure. Before I too am locked away in a dark cage.’
    ‘I understand your reasons for doing it, but you went too far. You lost sight of the justice you were seeking, Mister August.’
    ‘That I did, but too far?