Derek watched a BMW approach the guard shed. A person rolled down their window and waved their hand at the chip reader. The metal arm raised, and the car drove across the bridge to the hotel. Derek looked at the underside of the bridge and the steel truss girders. Staying away from the light, Derek crept closer to the bridge. Instead of walking across, he crawled underneath, grabbing ahold of the steel girders with his leather gloves. Like playing on the monkey bars, Derek hung from the girders and “walked” with his hands while dangling over the water. He traversed the forty-foot-wide canal, making it to the other side still dry, not even a drop of sweat.
In The Regal Hotel parking lot, he checked for black SUVs. He was careful to avoid the cameras by crouching and hiding behind the cars, his bandanna covering his face. Ideally, he wasn’t seen at all. Even if the cameras didn’t recognize his face, he reasoned that a masked man in the parking lot might sound the alarm.
Apart from the security gate and the cameras, he wasn’t sure about The Regal Hotel’s security protocols. Could he just walk into the hotel? Derek hoped that the security inside was lax, given that everyone was supposed to be verified at the security gate. Also, given the rarity of crime, most places spent very little on crime prevention beyond facial recognition cameras. Businesses had done the math long ago. It was most cost-efficient to search the video after a crime had been committed to find the culprit. Insurance companies covered any losses. But, most important, the cameras prevented most crime from ever occurring in the first place. Even if people covered their faces, the cameras had the resolution to see license plates, distinctive features such as tattoos, and some could even match walking gaits.
It didn’t take long for Derek to find Zhang Jun’s diplomatic plates. He’s here. Derek then found a dark spot at the edge of the parking lot, obscured by hedges, but with a view of the entrance. He crouched in the mulch and watched guests coming and going.
Two beautiful women accompanied by a burly man exited a sedan and approached the building. They looked much younger than the other guests. Less refined. The women wore tight-fitting dresses and flats. One of the women was very short, the type of woman who always wore heels. His mind flashed back to the video of April entering the building in her flats. Maybe Zhang Jun’s short and requests his escorts to wear flats. The women disappeared into the hotel, but the man stood outside smoking and tapping on his phone. Maybe Jun doesn’t allow bodyguards in his penthouse. That could be a problem. After the burly man finished his cigarette, he entered the hotel. It was hard to tell from Derek’s vantage point, but it looked like the man took a left as soon as he entered the hotel.
Derek waited nearly two hours for the women to return. The burly man escorted the two women to the sedan. They weren’t quite as fresh-faced as they were two hours ago. Their makeup was smudged, their hair a bit disheveled. The shorter woman had puffy eyes, as if she’d been crying. One side of her face was red. Derek waited for them to pass his hiding spot and to gain a safe distance away from him.
Derek stepped from the hiding spot, his face uncovered, but his back to the cameras. He jogged toward them, holding up his phone. “Excuse me, miss?”
The man turned at the sound of Derek’s voice and heavy footfalls. He stepped in front of the women, his body in a defensive posture. They were only a few steps from their car.
Derek slowed to a walk as he approached, still holding up his phone. “I work for Mr. Jun. Did you happen to forget your cell phone?”
The women checked their tiny purses. The taller woman said, “No.”
The shorter woman said, “Your boss is a fucking creep.”
“He’s lucky he has the money to pay,” the burly man said.
“What did he do?” Derek asked.
“None of your fuckin’ business.” The man glowered at Derek.
They entered the sedan and left.
Derek had hoped to gather more information from them. I have to go inside, to see for myself. The cameras are gonna see my face. I can’t walk in there with my face covered. That’s too suspicious. As soon as I turn around, the cameras got me. Does that even matter? I’m not a criminal. They could call the police, arrest me for trespassing, but that’s it. I have to see how close I can get to Zhang. Derek turned and walked toward the building.
Inside the hotel, Derek walked on the checkered marble, his heart pounding in his chest. Ornate chandeliers hung overhead. A young woman stood at the front desk. “Good evening,” she said.
“Good evening,” Derek replied, trying to sound like he belonged.
He took the elevator to the sixth floor. Derek stepped from the elevator and walked down the hall. At the very end of the hall, approximately 150 feet away, a man in a suit sat next to the door. The numbers started at 69 and went down from there. About halfway to penthouse suite number 60, Derek was sure that the man sitting at the end of the hall was one of the security guards he’d seen on the video tape who threw April’s lifeless body in the back of Jun’s SUV.
Derek stopped and turned from the man, pulling his phone from his pocket as if he’d gotten a call. Derek went back to the elevator, confident that he’d gotten a lay of the land and not wanting the security guard to recognize him in the future. Now he knew he could do it. He also knew he’d never get away with it.
50
Jacob, the Murderer
Stiff and jet-lagged, Jacob and his family made their way to baggage claim. The airport was mostly empty that Tuesday night. Looking like a baby Zamboni, the autonomous floor cleaner motored past, leaving a sparkling three-foot-wide path in its wake. A towheaded young man walked in lockstep next to Jacob.
Not breaking stride, the man pointed his phone at Jacob and said, “How much did you and your family make off the stock market crash?”
Jacob turned toward the man. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Jacob Roth. How does it feel to profit off the pain and suffering of others?”
“What’s he talking about?” Ethan asked.
“Probably the fire,” David said.
Rebecca shielded her sons and led them away from the amateur reporter. Lindsey stayed with Jacob, her backpack over her shoulders.
“How much money did you make by cutting maintenance on low-income housing?” the man asked, a smirk on his face.
Jacob didn’t answer.
At baggage claim, robotic baggage carriers were parked along the wall. The baggage carriers were three-by-three platforms on wheels, with four low walls, each wall with the ability to open for easy access. Jacob scanned his chip card, and the baggage carrier followed them to the baggage carousel.
While Jacob and Lindsey waited by the baggage carousel for their luggage, the young man still pestered them.
“Four hundred and forty-eight people died because of you,” the man said, still pointing his camera phone at Jacob.
“Leave us the fuck alone,” Lindsey said, moving between the man and Jacob.
Jacob placed his hand on Lindsey’s shoulder and said, “Go sit down with your mother.”
Lindsey gave the young man a dirty look, then went to sit with her mother and brothers.
“What is it that you want?” Jacob asked.
“I want you to admit that your family and a few other banking dynasties control the world with money and credit. Your family has enslaved all of humanity with your monopoly on money.”