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Like most southwestern cities, Juarez el Paso had grown out instead of up, the Rio Grande running through its center like a carotid artery. Cold in the winter, baked like an irregular flat cookie in the summer, it was not a place Manz would have chosen to call home. Litter fringed the streets and fled from the van’s wheels, small carcasses of fast-food meals and old news imbued with feeble lives of their own.

Hafas’s fingers toyed with the controls of a console recessed into the back of the driver’s seat. “Drink?”

“No thanks, Inspector.”

“Call me Tew, if you would. Formalities tend to inhibit friendly conversation.” He thumbed a couple of contacts, and the dispenser produced something that looked and steamed like coffee but smelled otherwise. From a distance it had the consistency of fresh road tar.

Hafas had no trouble with it. A couple of sips and he leaned back in his seat, not quite content but feeling better.

“Well, where’s my revelation? As your average dumb civil servant, I’m ready as always to receive enlightenment from the infallible private sector.”

Manz said nothing, waited while Hafas moodily contemplated his coffee, or whatever the glutinous black brew was.

“Sorry. I’m under a lot of pressure here. You only have to answer to your Company. I have to answer to them and to the Port Authority and to the Police Commission, not to mention the media.”

“I didn’t see any media types.”

“Let us give thanks to Him for small favors. We’ve put them off, but they’re starting to sniff seriously now. If public cams start showing up, it’ll scare away our jackers for sure. I don’t know how much longer we can keep all this quiet.”

“The Company’s doing its part. They want publicity even less than you do. Embarrassing.”

“Do tell. Didn’t mean to snap at you just now. A few hours you’ve been here, and I’m hoping for miracles. That’s not fair. It’s just that …” He set his brew in a holder and stared moodily at the street sliding past outside. “Purgatory and perdition, man, your people barely unloaded the package before it was jacked! And two officers killed, maybe linked, maybe not.” He took another, almost desperate, gulp of the hot beverage.

“I should’ve listened to my old man and gone into the rug business.”

“Take it easy, Tew. Whoever they are, these happy jackers are just as human as any other bunch. Eventually they’ll make their one slip, and that’ll be that. We’ll flag ’em, bag ’em, tag ’em, and you can stick their holos on the wall of your office.”

Hafas managed a weak grin. “That’ll be nice. Give me something to look at while I’m undergoing therapy. I hope to hell something happens soon. Ulcers are supposed to be an affliction of the past. I’m afraid they may be making a highly localized comeback.” He swirled the contents of his cup. “Our quarry’s being equally cautious in marketing their take. If we could find out who they’re selling to, we could track them backwards and pin them.”

“Pharmaceuticals aren’t like works of art or proprietary software. They’re easy to move around, and once they’re used your evidence disappears. A big firm acquiring a batch of illegals here and there could slip them into their regular inventory without their presence ever being noticed by an outside auditor. A quick fix for the profit line.”

“I didn’t say it would be easy. But we’re sure as hell not having much luck catching them here.”

“You must have some leads by now.”

Hafas folded his fingers around the cup. “We’ve got three local commercial possibilities. And that after months of work. Trouble is they’re all sizable companies with impeccable records. We’ve got to tread carefully or someone’s likely to howl.”

Manz nodded. “Private enterprise resents it when government starts poking into their dealings. Usually because they’ve got something to hide. ‘Impeccable’ records or not.” He leaned back in his seat. “Of course, companies pry into each other’s affairs all the time. That’s just normal everyday business practice.”

“I was hoping you’d say something like that. Not that I’m advocating anything sublegal, you understand. That would be wrong.

“Oh, to be sure.” Both men were careful to observe a moment of respectful silence before Manz inquired with affected indifference, “Just out of curiosity, who are the three?”

“Oh, you’re interested? Well, just to satisfy your personal curiosity, and not because I’d expect you to make any use of the information, they’re Fond du Lac Designer Pharmaceuticals, Troy Enterprises Ltd., and something that calls itself Borgia Import and Export.”

“I like the last,” Manz murmured. “Choice name for an outfit that deals in drugs.”

“They’re under no more suspicion than the others. I’ve had all their quarterly reports scrutinized. That’s public knowledge; no problem there. Over the period of the jackings, all three have done exceptional business. Their profit-and-loss statements don’t ring any warning bells, but accountants are magicians in their own right. All three have the facilities and expertise that would be necessary to move small volume, high-priced goods without drawing attention to themselves, On the surface each of them is cleaner than a bamboo whistle.”

“But you still suspect one of them.”

“I said they were the best suspects we’ve been able to come up with. That’s not to imply that any of them are real quality targets. We don’t have anything solid to go on. Peripheral, circumstantial … words I don’t like to use in an investigation.

“They’re the best we’ve been able to come up with, that’s all. Computers and predictors are all well and good, but in my line of work not a whole lot has changed in the past couple thousand years. Eventually it boils down to what you suspect based on your experience and that of your top people.

“The trouble is, if we put weight on one of these three and we turn out to be wrong, word’ll get back to our jackers that we’re moving in, and they’ll like as not decide to count their profits and close up shop.” He finished the brew and tossed the foam mug in a disposal. “I hate this kind of pussyfooting around.”

Manz indicated the mechanical ensconced in the storage bay behind his seat. “Moses loves to pussyfoot. We’ll see what we can find out.”

“Making a profit is hardly grounds for indictment. At this point I couldn’t get a warrant to search any of them. Their real books, as opposed to the figures they each issue for public and shareholder consumption, are guarded like reactor cores.” The cityscape through which they’d been traveling had improved during their chat. “Here we are.”

They pulled up outside the hotel and the two men exited the van. The back panel turned into a ramp down which Moses trundled with gyroscopic precision.

“If you do decide to, uh, pursue your own corporate inquiries and you should happen to have an awkward public encounter with the representatives of any of these three estimable commercial concerns, the JePPD will have to deny knowing anything about you.”

Manz’s expression was unreadable. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Inspector Hafas.”

Hafas led the way toward the entrance. “Braun-Ives has a bigger stake in stopping these jackers than we do. The only thing at risk for me here is my reputation. Your company risks its reputation and money. Braun-Roche-Keck has been a good corporate citizen of Juarez el Paso. So we’re extending you all the help we legally can.”

“Also you’ve been stopped cold.”

“Have I tried to deny that? Maybe it’s time to risk an unconventional approach. I’m just asking you not to get too unconventional, you follow?”

“Yo comprendo, Tew. But Vyra and I aren’t paid to root around the trough on Company time. You’re restricted to tea and compliments. That approach hasn’t worked.

“As to your concerns, all I can say is that I’m not a stumbler and bumbler or I wouldn’t be here. Same goes for Vyra. If we come down on the wrong people, my neck’ll be first on the block. So you can bet your civil-serviced ass I’ll try to make my first accusation my last.

“As for operational discretion, it’s not a philosophy I live by, but I understand it.”

Are sens

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