Frank Tayell - Work. Rest. Repeat.

Everything went white, then dark.

“Can you hear me?”

Ely tried to say ‘yes’, but the words got caught somewhere at the back of his throat.

“Constable? Can you hear me? Can you speak?”

Of course, he tried to say. The words didn’t come out. Everything went quiet.

“Is this Tower-Thirteen?” Ely asked. He knew it was him asking. He recognised the voice.

“No son. You’re still with us.”

He knew that voice, too. It was the Councillor’s. No. Not the Councillor. It was Arthur. And there was something important. Something Arthur had said.

Before Ely could remember what, he passed out again.

“Do you know where you are?”

Ely opened his eyes. He saw Nurse Gower.

“The infirmary. Level Seventy-Seven,” he croaked.

“Here, have some water, son,” Arthur bent forwards, and held a cup to Ely’s lips.

He took a sip. The water tasted like ambrosia.

“Constable, do you know what happened?” the nurse asked.

“I was… I was shot?” Ely replied, uncertainly.

“Hardly,” Arthur laughed. “If you had, you’d have been shipped off to Tower-Thirteen. Can’t do bullet wounds and surgery here. No, you were shot at, certainly, but it was a miss. The bullet hit a statue behind you. It turned out to be hollow. Mostly hollow. It was blown apart. It fell on you. Gave you a concussion.”

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours,” Arthur said.

Ely nodded. “Who shot at me?” he asked.

“I was going to ask you that,” Arthur replied.

“And you can,” Nurse Gower said, “but not until I’ve assessed whether he’s fit to leave here or whether he needs to go to Tower-Thirteen for more tests.”

“He’s fine,” Arthur said jovially. “As fit as ever. He was just taking advantage of the chance to get some sleep. That’s how you can tell he’s a real Copper.”

The nurse opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again. She shrugged and walked off to the small office.

“Now, son, what did you see?” Arthur asked, kindly.

“All I saw was shadows,” Ely said. “What about the cameras, didn’t they catch someone?”

“And that,” Arthur said as he tapped a command into his wristboard, “is a very good question. Can you see this?”

Ely had to twist on the bed to see the screen on the small room’s wall.

“Here, let me help you. There. You see it. That’s you leaving the Twilight Room, right?”

Ely watched himself walk towards the elevator.

“You pause there for a moment, then you decide to go into the museum. Why’d you do that, by the way? I thought you were going to arrest your suspects.”

“I was looking for where they hid the weapon.”

“Did you find it?”

“I didn’t really get a chance to look,” Ely said.

“Oh. Never mind. So, here, that’s you going inside, and then… here.” He froze the image. “See that shadow, that’s your assailant.”

“That’s all we’ve got?”

“Wait, it gets better. You know how there are no cameras in the Twilight Room? Well, up until four years ago that entire floor was given over to the retirees. You know what that means?”

“There are no cameras on Level Seventy-Six?”

“So there’s none inside the museum. Just a few around the elevator. All we’ve got to go on is the camera on your visor.” He tapped the screen. “And these are the best images we’ve got.”

Ely peered at the picture. The figure was indistinct. “I can’t even tell if that’s a man or a woman,” he said.

“Me neither. And I wouldn’t bother trying to guess. Now, this is where it gets interesting. Here, this is the when you were lying on the floor, unconscious. Watch.” The image was of a dim section of floor, ceiling, plinths, statues, and the distant doorway, illuminated as much by the light on his helmet as by the panels in the ceiling. “You see there? I think that’s why you’re still alive.”

“What do you mean?” Ely asked.

“That’s someone’s shadow,” Arthur said. “It has to be the killer’s, but they couldn’t get close enough to you to get a good shot, not without the camera on your helmet recording what they look like.”

“What about the cameras by the elevator?”

“No, there’s nothing on those. And before you ask, the elevator wasn’t used. It looks like the Controller was right. The killer does know where the cameras are, and knows either how to avoid being recorded by them or how to wipe them afterwards. She’s going to check whether the images have been tampered with, but I don’t think we’ll find anything there, not in time.”

“And I don’t suppose that anyone’s wristboard was monitored being in that corridor?” Ely asked.

“No.”

“Well, what about the bullet?” Hazy memories of one of the old movies came back to him. “Was there a casing left behind?”

“If there was a casing, I expect that was cleaned up by the drones.”

“Then I’m no closer to finding out who the killer is.”

“I’d say being shot at shows you’ve got their attention,” Arthur said, with a cheerfulness Ely thought was out of place. “If worst comes to worst, we’ll just have to wait until they try again. Oh, don’t look like that, I was joking.”

Ely nodded, and glanced around the infirmary. His helmet was sitting on a table on the far side of the room. Even from that distance he could see that it had a new dent.

“I’ll put in the requisition,” he murmured.

“It won’t be approved,” Arthur said, speaking softly.

“Why not?”

“You’ve got a message on there. From Cornwall.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“It’s not good news. The Councillor has put in a request for extra personnel.”

“Where from?”

“Guards from the launch site.” Arthur glanced over at Nurse Gower in her office, “they’re going to return on the next shuttle.”

“But I was shot at,” Ely said.

“According to the Chancellor, you let the killer escape.”

“Not on purpose. I didn’t have a chance to do anything else.”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s blaming Cornwall, and that’s why he’s called for reinforcements.”

“Then I should tell Cornwall that—” Ely began.

“Shh!” Arthur looked meaningfully over at the helmet, then around the room. “Look, these other Constables won’t make it here until after the election. Do you understand? They’re going to arrive too late. You’ve still got a chance. You can catch a killer. You remember what I told you?”

“Yes,” Ely said. “I do.”

“And have you got a plan?”

Ely stared into space for a moment.

“I think so. It’s not a very good one, but it might work. I’ll need your help, though.”

The plan was simple. Vauxhall had identified the worker who’d been stealing the hot water for the longest. Alexandra Penrith. Ely had asked Vauxhall to check where the suspect had been during the shooting. Vauxhall hadn’t been able to tell him. The records for the entire shift had been corrupted. She offered to check the camera footage, but that would take time, and that was something that they didn’t have.

There was just over an hour until shift-change. Penrith, Glastonbury, and about half of the other suspects were in Lounge-Two, The Sailor’s Rest. There was nothing unusual in this. The last round of pre-election broadcasts were being aired. Despite what Arthur had said, Ely wanted to find those genuinely involved. To do that, he was going to arrest Penrith.

As they rode down in the elevator, Ely checked the location of the suspects.

“There are twenty in Lounge-One, twenty-one in Lounge-Two. The other six are still in Recreation.”