Dark Streets, Episode 1
Monday 16th April 2012
Day One
11.30am
The wooden gavel slammed down onto the plate with a resounding crack and everyone gathered in the Grand Debate Chamber of the United States Curia immediately fell silent. It was a large, semicircular room with a balcony around the sides. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the rows of desks and the raised platform at the front. On it was a long table and behind it were eleven chairs, each one with a Senator sitting on it.
The United States Curia
“Order!” the Chairwoman shouted. She was fairly young, somewhere in her thirties, and had blonde hair down to her shoulders. Her face was flushed and she wore a smart grey business suit. “We are here for a preliminary session of the Senate Commerce Subcommittee on Consumer Protection, Product Safety and Insurance.” At the back of the Chamber, a rack of television screens showed the live feed from the dozens of cameras trained on her face as the images were beamed out across the country. “For those of you watching at home who haven’t been given a copy of our brief, the purpose of these sessions is to establish whether or not the Enjoni Corporation should be allowed to buy Stroud Electronics, were the situation to arise. My name is Georgina Stanton and I’m the junior Democratic Senator from Massachusetts. I’ll be chairing our meetings. Called as a witness today is Lisa Rye. Ms Rye served with Dell for five years as a consultant on corporate takeovers and she is here to give us some insight into the background behind the bid.” She turned to one of her fellows. “Senator Irvin, you may begin questioning. Please introduce yourself properly first.” The Senator, an older man of about fifty-five, cleared his throat and leaned in to the microphone before him.
“Good morning, everyone. I’m Michael Irvin, the senior Senator from Nevada. Ms Rye, I’d like to you tell me about the Enjoni Corporation. Keep it brief, if you will.” Lisa Rye, a woman in her late twenties who sat at a desk before the podium, nodded to him.
“Enjoni is a company specialising in electronics. They build components for computers, mobile phones and tablets. Business analysts predict a growth in turnover of three percent for this quarter, which is above average but not outstanding considering their field is booming at current.”
“Thank you. And Stroud?”
“Stroud Firmware is a larger corporation looking to cut into the electronics market. If they were to do so, Enjoni would be by far their biggest competitor.” There was a pause.
The logo of the Enjoni Corporation
“So it’s safe to say these two organisations pose no threat to each other at current?”
“At current, no, they don’t.”
“But they could.”
“Yes.”
“And Stroud? Are they secure in their own dealings?”
“They’re much more stable, that’s for certain, but they have lower growth forecasts.” Irvin opened his mouth to speak, then stopped himself and waited while the scribes caught up with them.
“In your opinion, Ms Rye, would Enjoni buying Stroud lead to them controlling too large a share of the market? In other words, would it be wise, in the interests of plurality, for the Subcommittee to block a theoretical takeover bid?” Rye shook her head.
“Stroud’s share of the firmware market is only slightly larger than Enjoni’s share of the electronics market. They’re entirely separate.” Irvin frowned.
“Pardon me if I’m understanding this wrong, but surely a company with a commanding stake in both areas would be able to grow itself far more quickly than if it only controlled one?”
“I imagine that’s why they’re thinking of launching the bid, Mr Senator.” Several people in the room laughed, Stanton among them. Rye looked pleased with herself.
“You understand what I’m saying, though. Enjoni would become by far the most powerful business in the country, would it not?”
“In the relevant fields, yes.”
“Allowing it to buy out all other businesses.”
“If it had the money.”
“Which would be bad for plurality, as I said.” Rye pursed her lips.
“Senator Irvin, you’re trying to pressure me into giving a personal opinion upon a subject in which I am meant to be impartial. I can tell you that Enjoni would indeed be the most powerful company in those fields. I can also tell you that it would quite possibly be capable of cutting its rivals. What I can’t tell you is whether I believe that’s a bad thing.”
“Let’s sum this up in short,” Stanton concluded, before Irvin could say anything. “Ms Rye, please understand that in asking this question, I am simply looking for a factual answer, not an opinion. Would such a takeover restrict competition?” Rye hesitated before answering.
“Yes, it would.”
1.30pm
Three long corridors ran along the back of the United States Senate Chamber in the Curia, one above the other on the first, second and third floors. Each one had thirty or so suites branching off it, so that between them they accommodated all one hundred Senators working in the building. On the third floor, in the reception room of Suite 95, a member of the catering staff was busy laying the coffee table with cakes and pots of tea. On each side of it was a sofa, and sitting on the right-hand sofa as seen from the entrance was Senator Georgina Stanton. She had her legs crossed and a file lay in her lap, the emblem of the Congressional Research Office emblazoned on it.
“Thanks Jim,” she said to the caterer, indicating the refreshments. “Those look lovely.”
“Don’t eat them all at once,” Jim replied. “I hope you have someone to share them with, else this is going on your bill and not the taxpayer’s.” As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.
“That’ll be my guest,” Stanton observed. Jim straightened up and wheeled his trolley over to it. He swung it open to reveal the Chief of Staff for the Old Place, the official residence and workplace of the President.
The Old Place
Joseph Panneta was tall and slim, dressed in a grey three-piece suit and shiny black shoes. His wiry physique made him look more like an athlete than a politician but anyone who was anyone knew he was one of the most formidable forces in Brandon.
“Good morning sir,” Jim said. “I take it you’re here to see the Senator?”
“I have an appointment,” Panneta told him. “Do you need to see the paperwork?”
“That won’t be necessary.” The Chief of Staff stepped aside and he pushed the trolley out into the hallway. “Have a nice meeting.” Panneta swung the door shut behind him and crossed to Stanton.
“Georgina,” he greeted her, leaning down to shake her hand as he did so. “Good to see you.”
“Likewise, Joe. How’re you doing?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“Will you take a seat?”
“Of course.” He sat across the table from her and took a fig roll from one of the silver platters. “I’m afraid I don’t have long, so you’ll have to get to the point. You know how it is.”
“Yes,” Stanton said. She took the file from her lap and held it out to him. He accepted it and flicked it open, then skimmed the front page absent-mindedly. “That’s a report compiled by the CRO concerning the possible corporate takeover of Stroud Firmware by the Enjoni Corporation.”
“It makes for interesting reading,” he muttered.
“So it does. I’ve just come from a session of the Senate Commerce Subcommittee on Consumer Protection, Product Safety and Insurance.”
“You mean Scoso-cup-sai,” he said, without looking up.
“What?” He glanced up from the file.
“The acronym. SCSOCPPSAI. The Old Place staff call it Scoso-cup-sai.”
“Because that’s easier to say than the Senate Commerce Subcommittee on Consumer Protection, Product Safety and Insurance?” Panneta shrugged.
“It’s shorter, that’s for sure.”
“That’s ridiculous.” He went back to his reading, but kept talking as he did so.
“In Venezuela there’s a series of eighteen radio telescopes aligned to catch the light from the Universe’s earliest days. So far, they’ve discovered over a dozen galaxies and are on track to discover hundreds more. It’s called the VLA.”
“Which stands for . . ?” Panneta shut the file.
“The Very Large Array. And you think yours is a stupid name.”
“In the session I came from,” Stanton went on, wearily, “We heard testimony from Lisa Rye, an expert on corporate takeovers. She said that a buyout of Stroud by Enjoni would restrict competition and allow Enjoni to shut down their competitors.” Panneta shrugged.
“Companies rise and fall, Georgina. You know that.”
“Joe, we are staring into a pit here. The electronics industry is worth billions a year. If we let one corporation control it, we stifle it. We lose our chance for growth.”
“You want the Subcommittee to block the bid when it comes? That’ll take a vote in the House and the Republicans will never let the government be seen to interfere in the economy, and furthermore, an attempt to do so would be an audacious move on behalf of the Old Place.”
“I don’t want a vote, Joe. I don’t want it to come to that.”
“Excellent. I’m glad to hear it.”
“I want the President to make a statement opposing the takeover.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay. Where do you want the press conference to be held? On our planet or yours?”
“Seriously . . .”
“No, Georgina.”
“Why not?”
“You want reasons? I’ll give you three of them.” He counted them off on his fingers. “It’s too early in the year – too far from the election – for the President to be spending political capital, Stroud is probably too large for Enjoni to buy at the moment and thirdly, the President doesn’t have any corporate experience!”
“He worked in the financial sector.”
“He was an investment manager at Murray Street Brothers for four years before he was elected Senator! This isn’t his speciality. In fact, it’s not even near . . .” He trailed off, making random sounds as he tried to find the words, and gave up after a couple of seconds. “Look, I’m glad you feel passionately about this, but that’s as far as it’ll go. You’re not getting support from the President.” He climbed to his feet, crossed to the door and swung it open. Stanton stood as well.
“Couldn’t you persuade him?” Panneta chuckled.
“I could if I wanted to,” he said, and slammed the door behind him.
2.00pm
Downtown Brandon was a grid of streets to the west of the Federal Centre, built on a peninsula protruding into the murky waters of Lake Dark. The vertical streets were named for Presidents, while the horizontals were named for states – with the exception of the broad thoroughfare running through the heart of the district, which was called Constitution Avenue.
Downtown Brandon
At the centre of it all, taking up the lowest three floors of the Fiore Building on the intersection of Constitution Avenue and Polk Street, was the Central Precinct Police Station. Beyond the glass doors at the entrance and on the other side of the lobby was a large, open area two floors tall with a balcony running around it. It was covered in desks and workstations, each one home to a detective.
The Central Precinct Police Station
“I’m just saying that I don’t see any career progression,” Theo Leith said, turning round in his swivel chair to face the woman leaning on the table beside him. She was slightly shorter than he was, with a slim physique and dark skin. Her black hair was tied back in a long ponytail and she spoke with an Indian accent as she replied to him.
“You never know, Theo. Something might come up.” Her name was Tabitha Goodwin and, like Theo, she was a Detective Inspector with the Brandon Police Department. He snorted.
“What are the odds of that?” They were both young, only about thirty. Theo himself was a relatively tall and handsome man. He had a full face and unruly hair that he could never control. When he spoke, his tone was easy and confident. “I’d sooner stake my money on the Crows winning the game tonight.” She chuckled.
“When you put it that way . . .”
“By the way, did you get those files I asked for?” She pulled out the drawer by her waist and took out a ledger for him. “I knew you’d do it,” he said, taking it from her.
“It was a favour, Theo, and a big one at that.”
“Yeah, but I knew you’d do it.”
“How?”
“When I asked you, I used my masculine charm.” She pursed her lips.
“Your masculine charm?”
“Girls are into that, Tabs. I can be very distracting at times.”
“Let’s get back on subject.” He leaned back in his chair and began turning the ledger’s pages.
“Why, you don’t want to talk about the charm? It’s okay, you know. You can tell me about your feelings.” Goodwin shook her head slowly.
“You are incredible.”
“I get that a lot.”
“Do you now?” He shrugged.
“Sure. Over dinner, in bed . . . the usual stuff.”
“How often do you take girls to dinner?” He looked up at her seriously.
“Whenever I turn up the charm.” She rolled her eyes.
“You were talking about career progression.”
“Sure. I’ve been in this job for five years and I haven’t seen one payrise or even the faintest hint of a promotion. In that time, I’ve solved three homicides, two arsons and a grand theft auto. Most people would be Deputy Commissioner by now!” Goodwin laughed.
“That’s a bit much.”
“But you know what I’m saying.”
“She certainly does,” someone interrupted. They both looked over to see Detective Chief Inspector Leonard Harmon – their boss – standing in the aisle between the desks. He was thick-set and muscled, clearly a result of hours spent in the gym. Like them, he wore his casual slacks. Leith immediately straightened up and put the ledger down on the table.
“Sir,” he said. “We were just discussing . . .”
“I heard, rookie.” He pointed over his shoulder at the door behind him. A plague hung from a nail in the wood with his name engraved on it. “My office. ASAP.” Without another word, he turned and walked off. Leith watched him go, shaking his head slowly.
“Oh, damn. I’d better go, Tabs.”
“Try hitting him with some of that charm,” Goodwin suggested, sarcastically. He threw her a cold look and set off after him, just managing to catch the door before it clicked shut. Harmon was sitting behind his desk with his legs propped up on it.
“Listen, sir,” Leith reasoned, “I didn’t mean . . .”
“Cut the chatter, you hear?”
“Sorry.”
“Let me do the talking. It’s about time you showed some respect.” Leith let the door close and sat opposite him. “I’ve heard you complaining about this before, rookie.” The DI’s cheek twitched at the use of the word. “That’s right. That’s what you are. You don’t see yourself getting a promotion anytime soon, eh? You got that right. In this organisation, you don’t complain. You just keep your head down and serve the government you swore to protect. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Yes sir,” Leith said, his head bowed.
“Okay. You can go.” He stood up and crossed to the exit, then glanced back.
“Sir?”
“What?”
“Three homicides, two arsons and a grand theft auto . . . don’t call me a rookie. You’re embarrassing no-one but yourself.” As he was about to wrench the door open, Harmon called out:
“Theo!” Leith walked back into the middle of the room and leaned on the chair.
“Yes?”
“As misplaced as your frustrations may be, I’m impressed with your desire to succeed. Whining will hold you back but ambition is its own reward. I’ll assign you to the Anselmo case. Crack it and I’ll get a promotion.” Leith laughed sourly.
“I’m not doing this for you.”
“Sure you’re not. You’re the one who replaces me.” There was a pause.
“I see.”
“Anselmo’s a mobster of the worst variety. We’re talking gambling rackets, murder, unconnected disappearances . . . you name it, he’s been associated with it at some time or other. As far as we know, he operates from a casino on Frances Boulevard, out in Hollow – just past Old Town. That’s where you should start.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You can thank me when it’s done, rookie. Now get out of my office.”
11.30pm
The Aquaria Casino’s towers rose high into the air above Hollow, Brandon’s main gambling centre. One of the city’s many curious perks was that it was actually situated in the District of Dalwood, sandwiched between the states of Maryland and Virginia. It suburbs extended into both of them – everything to the south of the two lakes around which the city was built actually belonged to Maryland, although Downtown and the Federal Centre were to the north. The Aquaria Casino was a strange building; rectangular, but looking as if someone had put a hand on each side and pulled them apart lengthways so the left half jutted out beyond the right at one end and vice versa. Its higher floors were filled with apartments and the middle floors with office space. The lower third was the casino proper, where countless no-hopers and down-and-outs spent their evenings gambling away the last of their money.
The Aquaria Casino
Fiorino Anselmo, the mobster known to his friends as Saint Anselm, had an office overlooking the main gaming hall. He had ordered the shutters closed over the windows so the light from outside fell across him in diagonal streaks as he lit another cigar. He was a diminutive old man, his face covered in lines and drooping skin, but his impeccable suit marked him out as someone with class. Sitting at the other end of the table to him was a businesswoman in what looked like jogging clothes; a t-shirt and tracksuit trousers.
“Thank you for taking the time to see me,” she said.
“It’s not often one of your type ventures into my casino,” Anselmo replied, his accent distinctly Italian. She folded her arms.
“My type?”
“You know. Big spender.”
“I imagine you get plenty of those in here.” Anselmo issued a rasping laugh and then coughed into a white handkerchief.
“Believe me, if that were true, I wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Oh, I know. Cassarah Sampson.”
“That’s right.”
“CEO of the Enjoni Corporation. What do you need me to do?”
“I can pay well . . .”
“Did I ask about the money? I trust you for that. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need my help. So tell me what it is. Does someone have to disappear? Are you looking for a temporary relocation or something a little more permanent?” She smiled.
“Nothing so complicated, I’m afraid. If you know I own Enjoni, you’ll know that I’m looking to buy Stroud Firmware. I want you to find ways of weakening their market share so I can claim they’re losing control of their own finances and need rescuing.” Anselmo nodded slowly.
“Corporate fraud. It’s been a while.”
“Can you do it?”
“I’m confident we can arrange something.”
“Good. And it’s a tight deadline, too. I’m giving evidence to the Senate Commerce Subcommittee on Consumer Protection, Product Safety and Insurance in nine days’ time. I want to be able to assure them that I plan to save Stroud.”
“That’s more than enough time, Miss Sampson. Leave it with us. We’ll take care of it.”
That's it for Episode 1. I hope you enjoyed this update and check back next Saturday for Episode 2! Don't forget to rate and comment!
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