Duplicate Effort Part 24

He had to know now. Nyquist clutched the edge of the seat, feeling the car's cheap cloth against his skin, using it to ground himself, like the hospital therapist told him to do when she had him talk about the nightmares. He made himself recall. . . .

The apartment with the single chair and all the high-end entertainment equipment. An apartment of a man who lived alone and didn't expect visitors. A man who used stories and games to help the hours of his life pa.s.s, without doing much good work. Just playing, as if he deserved some kind of vacation.

Nyquist opened his eyes.

His heart was pounding, and his skin was clammy. He couldn't do this.

But there was no record of any of this. He hadn't written it into any file. Gumiela a.s.sured him it wasn't necessary and he hadn't cared. He'd been so badly injured, all he wanted to do was get better. It had been the first time he'd failed to close the doc.u.mentation on a case-even a case that remained open.

He'd let his situation-and the fact that the case revolved around the Wagners-lull him into thinking it was done.

And of course it wasn't.

Nyquist gripped the seat even harder. He'd stood up to two Bixian a.s.sa.s.sins-and survived. The first doc.u.mented case of a human surviving a Bixian a.s.sa.s.sination attempt.

He'd had courage that day.

Yet it seemed that he needed more courage now.

Remembering it was harder than living it.

And, he reminded himself, he didn't have to remember the attack. Just the conversation with Claudius Wagner, before the a.s.sa.s.sins had slithered their way into the apartment.

Isn't it funny? The voice that appeared in Nyquist's head was Claudius Wagner's. The voice that appeared in Nyquist's head was Claudius Wagner's. I would rather have given up my life and risk a hideous death than admit that I had anything to do with those cases. I would rather have given up my life and risk a hideous death than admit that I had anything to do with those cases. Cases. Nyquist didn't remember the cases or the files. He tried to make himself remember, and he couldn't. Cases. Nyquist didn't remember the cases or the files. He tried to make himself remember, and he couldn't.

What had the therapist said? Breathe. Relax. Come as close as you can to sleeping. You'll find the memories. They exist. They're part of you.

But Nyquist had always resisted. He didn't want the memories.

Bowles and I made our deal before I found out about Talia. That was Flint. Flint, who seemed frightened for the first time since Nyquist had known him. Flint, who actually had something to lose now. That was Flint. Flint, who seemed frightened for the first time since Nyquist had known him. Flint, who actually had something to lose now.

I need to know what happened to Bowles because . . .

Nyquist knew Flint had to figure that out. Because he thought he was the next target. And some killers-especially cruel ones, the motivated ones-thought that killing a man was less desirable than slaughtering his family and letting him live.

Nyquist shuddered.

Even if this weren't his first case back, even if he didn't feel an obligation to the dead-Bowles, Whitford, and the bodyguard, the man who had tried to defend Bowles-he had an obligation to solve this.

Flint had helped him. Flint had guaranteed the money so that Nyquist could have lifesaving surgeries. Flint had told him that he would never ask for repayment-and Nyquist believed him. But there were still unforeseen complications. Like this one: I need to know what happened to Bowles because . . . I need to know what happened to Bowles because . . . Because of Talia. Because of Talia.

Because, Flint had been saying, My daughter might die if I don't have that information. And you owe it to me. My daughter might die if I don't have that information. And you owe it to me.

Only Flint was too cla.s.sy to say that Nyquist owed him.

In fact, Flint might not have even thought of it-at least not consciously.

Have you ever seen the footage of the day care incident? Ki Bowles had asked Nyquist that day he interviewed her. Ki Bowles had asked Nyquist that day he interviewed her.

He hadn't known what she meant. Day care incident? Day care incident?

Flint's daughter was killed in a day care by one of the workers. Turns out that worker killed other children- shaking them too hard-but it took a second visible death before anyone saw the pattern.

Bowles had been holding a mug of tea. If he closed his eyes, he could see her, as if she were still sitting across from him.

She swirled the mug because she was clearly nervous. He watched as the liquid would crest near the edge, then vanish again, never spilling, but always threatening.

That incident , she had said, , she had said, that's what started Flint on his journey from computer tech to Retrieval Artist. I think that journey has an ethical base. I think he tried to make things better as a police officer, then realized he couldn't enforce certain laws. So he became independent. I've talked to him. He's really firm about the way people should behave. that's what started Flint on his journey from computer tech to Retrieval Artist. I think that journey has an ethical base. I think he tried to make things better as a police officer, then realized he couldn't enforce certain laws. So he became independent. I've talked to him. He's really firm about the way people should behave.

She had been right. Flint was really firm about how people should behave.

They should protect children.

Flint couldn't protect his daughter because of his past. Flint had had no idea that his second child, the one that his wife had kept hidden from him, existed, and now he found himself in the middle of a mess, so he had come to Nyquist.

Nyquist, whose brain was refusing to remember its conversation with Claudius Wagner. Although it seemed to have no trouble picking up memories of Ki Bowles.

I can't talk to you, Detective. I swore an oath. Claudius Wagner this time. Had he said that? Or was Nyquist's brain coming up with an excuse not to remember? Claudius Wagner this time. Had he said that? Or was Nyquist's brain coming up with an excuse not to remember?

"What kind of oath?" Nyquist whispered. Client confidentiality. I will tell you that we had the same client. Client confidentiality. I will tell you that we had the same client. We. Nyquist frowned, almost opened his eyes. We. Claudius and-who? We. Nyquist frowned, almost opened his eyes. We. Claudius and-who? I took over the account when she had to leave-and believe me, I was surprised at what I found. I took over the account when she had to leave-and believe me, I was surprised at what I found.

Paloma. Or as Claudius probably called her until the day of his death, Lucianna. They'd hidden in plain sight because the Bixians didn't know Armstrong laws. They didn't understand that humans could legally change their ident.i.ties and stay in the same area.

Nyquist almost opened his eyes as that information came back to him, then realized that he would break this, this slow trickle of memory.

A half-remembered conversation. He leaned back, tried to relax even more. He wanted to picture Claudius Wagner, but all he got was that stupid entertainment system-a system he'd shattered with a shot from his laser rifle not an hour later. The explosion- The explosion had startled the second a.s.sa.s.sin and Nyquist had managed to move away from it. Somehow. Backing into the chair on his way to the kitchen.

The kitchen and a knife of his own. He wouldn't be able to shoot when the thing latched on to him. He wouldn't be able to shoot, just slash and hope he killed it-hope he had enough time to survive.

Then a few things happened, Claudius Wagner had said, and Nyquist found himself feeling grateful. A different memory, one without the pain.

Some information leaked , Claudius Wagner had was saying. , Claudius Wagner had was saying. Old cases resurfaced, old angers did as well, and suddenly I found myself subjected to the same treatment as Lucianna. We figured the name changes and the habit changes would be enough. And you know, they were, until yesterday. Old cases resurfaced, old angers did as well, and suddenly I found myself subjected to the same treatment as Lucianna. We figured the name changes and the habit changes would be enough. And you know, they were, until yesterday.

The man had been surprisingly honest. Nyquist hadn't expected honesty. He remembered that now. He had expected the same kind of creepy personality that Justinian Wagner had, the same kind of oily personality, the kind that shifted and moved with its moods-and tried to get you to do the same.

What do you think changed? Nyquist had asked. Nyquist had asked.

I think someone offered my son the same deal I got offered. Claudius had spoken with great bitterness. Claudius had spoken with great bitterness.

Nyquist didn't remember a deal. He needed to remember a deal. "What deal?" he whispered because asking questions aloud had worked before. I can't go into detail. I can't go into detail.

Be vague. He remembered now. He had promised himself he would try to find this information when he left Claudius's apartment. He would use the vague details to put together a real case. Somehow. He'd done things like that before. He remembered now. He had promised himself he would try to find this information when he left Claudius's apartment. He would use the vague details to put together a real case. Somehow. He'd done things like that before.

This client , Claudius had said, , Claudius had said, is a long-term client, and this case is one of many. Lucianna kept most of her records and she didn't let me see the files, although she told me what was in them when I asked that year before I moved here. is a long-term client, and this case is one of many. Lucianna kept most of her records and she didn't let me see the files, although she told me what was in them when I asked that year before I moved here.

Here was the thing about the files. Nyquist knew there had been something. The entire case had been about files.

And Flint said he had given them back. After making a copy? This stuff Bowles was using This stuff Bowles was using, Nyquist had asked Flint, this information, is there any way I can see it? If she has copies, this information, is there any way I can see it? If she has copies, Flint had said. Flint had said. And where would she have gotten copies? And where would she have gotten copies? Nyquist should have asked, but he hadn't. He hadn't. Nyquist should have asked, but he hadn't. He hadn't.

The client , Claudius was saying, , Claudius was saying, took some of Lucianna's advice, but not all of it. The circ.u.mstances happened again, in a different environment, but with the same results, and the client acted in the same way. Only the new case brought the old one up again, and stirred up anger . . . took some of Lucianna's advice, but not all of it. The circ.u.mstances happened again, in a different environment, but with the same results, and the client acted in the same way. Only the new case brought the old one up again, and stirred up anger . . . He paused. He paused. This can't be making sense to you. This can't be making sense to you.

I'll figure it out , Nyquist had said. Only he never did. He didn't have time. He nearly died. Then he forgot. And then he got this case. And somehow it might be related. So related that it frightened Flint. Who had never seemed frightened before. , Nyquist had said. Only he never did. He didn't have time. He nearly died. Then he forgot. And then he got this case. And somehow it might be related. So related that it frightened Flint. Who had never seemed frightened before.

What if it was more than Talia? What if Flint's fear had something to do with the cases that Claudius had talked about?

What if it had something to do with the files?

We managed to get some of the anger calmed , Claudius had said, , Claudius had said, using extralegal means, very similar to what we had done before. And the result was the same as the ones before. The hurt party hired the Bixians at the advice of the previous hurt party. using extralegal means, very similar to what we had done before. And the result was the same as the ones before. The hurt party hired the Bixians at the advice of the previous hurt party.

In other words, Claudius's firm had broken the law-done something horribly illegal, and the injured party had hired a.s.sa.s.sins-to go after Claudius and Paloma, the heads of the law firm.

Somehow the Wagners had found out about the threats to their lives. And that's how you ended up here, And that's how you ended up here, Nyquist had said. Nyquist had said.

It's not so bad, really, Claudius had said, but he sounded wistful. That's what Nyquist remembered the most. How wistful the man sounded.

As if he had once been important and was no longer. As if he once mattered and now he was just an old man living in a small apartment with a single chair and too much time on his hands.

Still, he had made the life sound as good as he could: I can see my children. I can live my life. I find I don't miss the firm at all. I can see my children. I can live my life. I find I don't miss the firm at all.

At the time, Nyquist hadn't thought he was lying. But now he wasn't so sure. The man seemed like he missed everything.

And then his wife had been murdered. He had to know he was next.

You said you were offered a deal, Nyquist had said, not knowing what was about to come, not knowing then that Claudius would die and Nyquist's whole life would change. Nyquist had said, not knowing what was about to come, not knowing then that Claudius would die and Nyquist's whole life would change. What was it? That I give up the client's files. Say that I advised them to take those extralegal measures. Admit my and the firm's culpability-not in public, mind you, just to the families-and pay a steep fine. Steep? What was it? That I give up the client's files. Say that I advised them to take those extralegal measures. Admit my and the firm's culpability-not in public, mind you, just to the families-and pay a steep fine. Steep?

More money than you can earn in a lifetime, Detective. More money than everyone on your force can.

He had sounded so righteous. But that wasn't the question. Once again, Nyquist had asked the wrong question. He should have said, So you'd rather risk death than lose money? So you'd rather risk death than lose money?

Instead, he had said, So you Disappeared rather than pay out money. So you Disappeared rather than pay out money.

And that had made Claudius angry.

First of all , he said, , he said, I haven't completely Disappeared. Secondly, I was supposed to admit to both cases. I couldn't. I only knew the one, and what little I knew of the other came from a discussion with my wife. I'd have to allocute to the details of both cases, and I couldn't, not without the files- I haven't completely Disappeared. Secondly, I was supposed to admit to both cases. I couldn't. I only knew the one, and what little I knew of the other came from a discussion with my wife. I'd have to allocute to the details of both cases, and I couldn't, not without the files- Which your wife had, Nyquist had said.

Which she wouldn't relinquish, Claudius had said. She thought the allocution a very bad idea, even if it were supposedly confidential. She thought the allocution a very bad idea, even if it were supposedly confidential.

She didn't think it would be? Nyquist had asked. Nyquist had asked.

She said we had an obligation to our client. She was right about that.

But?

Then there was nothing. For a moment, Nyquist panicked. Was that the end of the memory? He felt so tense. Was that when Claudius had gone to the door and turned around with that a.s.sa.s.sin covering his arm?

Nyquist felt vaguely nauseated. He was sure there was more. Something important. Something he needed to remember.

We'd have to admit guilt, Claudius said as suddenly and clearly as if he were in the car. Maybe he was. Maybe his ghost was. I would have had to admit guilt. And culpability in a bunch of- I would have had to admit guilt. And culpability in a bunch of- He stopped himself. Nyquist remembered now. He suspected that Claudius wasn't thinking clearly, that he was truly upset or he wouldn't have made a slip like that. He stopped himself. Nyquist remembered now. He suspected that Claudius wasn't thinking clearly, that he was truly upset or he wouldn't have made a slip like that.

But maybe the man had known he was going to die. Maybe that was as close as he could come to confessing. Then Claudius had sighed, and finished differently than he had obviously intended to.

Culpability in a major crime, he had said. he had said. A horrible crime, if the truth be told. And what's worse is that these b.a.s.t.a.r.ds hadn't learned from it. They did it again. So my guilt is compounded by the fact that they should have known better. A horrible crime, if the truth be told. And what's worse is that these b.a.s.t.a.r.ds hadn't learned from it. They did it again. So my guilt is compounded by the fact that they should have known better.

A horrible crime. One that had been instigated by the Wagners. One that had caused an equally horrible revenge that Nyquist himself had gotten caught up in.

Had Bowles found that crime?

Isn't it funny? Claudius had said again. Claudius had said again. I would rather have given up my life and risk a hideous death than admit that I had anything to do with those cases. I would rather have given up my life and risk a hideous death than admit that I had anything to do with those cases.

The Claudius in Nyquist's memory had repeated that phrase, but Nyquist was certain the real Claudius had only said it once.

Was it important? Was that what this was all about?

Or was that the-what had the therapist called it?-the entry memory?

I guess I never believed anyone would find us, Claudius had said. Claudius had said. I guess I never really believed we'd be called to account. And here we are. I guess I never really believed we'd be called to account. And here we are.

Here we are. It seemed like he was here. Here they were, the survivor and the victim of a horrible attack, caused by a horrible crime.

Only just one of them had knowledge of what that crime had been.

A crime hidden in files.

Files Ki Bowles had threatened to reveal.

You said that your son received the same deal, said the Nyquist of his memory. And he wanted to rail at himself. That wasn't the issue. It was clear that Justinian Wagner was behind everything. The issue was what was everything?

What had caused this? What was in those files?

Nyquist wanted to ask the ghost of Claudius, but he couldn't. The man-or his shade-really wasn't here.

Just his memory.

And his memory answered the question that was actually asked: Either they've done it again, which I doubt. I haven't heard news about it, and believe me, I watch. Or my son was told he could bring us in, pay the fine, and betray the client. Rumor has it that the client is looking for new attorneys. So my son had to be considering it. Either they've done it again, which I doubt. I haven't heard news about it, and believe me, I watch. Or my son was told he could bring us in, pay the fine, and betray the client. Rumor has it that the client is looking for new attorneys. So my son had to be considering it.

The vagueness had been frustrating then. It was even more frustrating now. Now that Nyquist couldn't verify the conversation, now that he couldn't be entirely sure that what he remembered as part of the conversation was truly part of the conversation.

Your son , he had said to Claudius, , he had said to Claudius, was looking for a way out, one that didn't include vanishing. was looking for a way out, one that didn't include vanishing. He had been guessing, missing the point again, focusing on Justinian instead of the files. He had been guessing, missing the point again, focusing on Justinian instead of the files.

I think he was going for a half measure, Claudius had said. Claudius had said. I think he wanted the files. He'd hand them over, and maybe some money, and not admit anything. After all, he wasn't involved. I think he wanted the files. He'd hand them over, and maybe some money, and not admit anything. After all, he wasn't involved. The files again. Only Claudius had just said that Justinian would have turned them over. To the authorities? To the clients? To confess and allocute? The files again. Only Claudius had just said that Justinian would have turned them over. To the authorities? To the clients? To confess and allocute?

It wouldn't have mattered. If Nyquist understood the vagueness correctly, Justinian hadn't even been part of the firm when the "horrible crime" occurred.

"But you and your wife were," Nyquist said-aloud or in his memory he wasn't certain, and he really didn't care.

He did want the answer, though.

It can be argued by a good attorney that the real culprit here is my wife , said Claudius Wagner, who had been, by all accounts, a good attorney. , said Claudius Wagner, who had been, by all accounts, a good attorney. There is no proof in my files that I suggested anything other than the client do exactly as my wife advised them years ago. And if I had no records of what she advised them, then all that the attorney would have to say is that I added the sentence "because it seemed to work the first time." I had no liability. The firm had no liability. We'd gotten rid of the troublemaker by firing her, not killing her. There is no proof in my files that I suggested anything other than the client do exactly as my wife advised them years ago. And if I had no records of what she advised them, then all that the attorney would have to say is that I added the sentence "because it seemed to work the first time." I had no liability. The firm had no liability. We'd gotten rid of the troublemaker by firing her, not killing her.