An Unladylike Murder, page 14
part #1 of Jessica Sloan Mystery Series
Cutter found himself secretly agreeing with Simon Ratner.
“Is that why you’re advocating that graffiti be sprayed everywhere, on the sides of buildings, sidewalks and doors of the tech firms?”
“San Francisco is well known for its demonstrations and social unrest. We’ve come together and we’re sick of the young, arrogant brats who wear entitlement on their faces.”
“Do you really think your protests accomplish anything?”
“The media is like a shark: you’re either feeding it, or it’ll eat you. We need to keep the problems that tech is causing in front of the public by feeding the media.”
“So that’s why your group is blocking buses that in turn block traffic?”
“I’m doing the best I can to stand up for the poor and homeless, the ones society is trying to sweep under the rug.”
Sloan said, “Can you be more specific?”
“I try to advocate for the homeless, the drug addicts, the mentally impaired, the severely handicapped and the illegal aliens. That includes service workers like you.”
“And how do you do that?”
“I work with others that try to find them a clean, safe place to sleep. We also have a program to help adults get back into a functional, productive life.”
“And how’s that been working out for you?”
“If you’re asking, then you must know it’s a difficult thing to do.”
“Have you ever successfully moved any of the chronic cases back into normal society?”
“It depends on whose normal society you’re talking about. No, they don’t get full time jobs, coding software, but some do help out others at shelters.”
“When they’re not drunk or out of it, right?”
“I can see you have a heart of stone, detective.”
“I’m a realist, that’s all.”
The lawyer looked at Jessica. “I feel sorry for you and your generation. You’ll never know the joy of living in simpler times, where people spent time having meaningful conversations with each other instead of spending all their time with their face glued to their cell phones.”
Sloan had heard enough. “It’s too bad you’re fighting the inevitable.”
The lawyer raised his chin. “I’ve heard that the politicians are forcing your police department to go big brother on us by putting everyone in a fancy database to track us so you can drive us all out.”
Sloan and Cutter didn’t respond.
This is all being recorded.
“The politicians who are running our city are puppets controlled by the technology firms.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Why else would they be allowing unproven self-driving cars to be tested on our streets? How many people have to die before they stop? If they weren’t taking donations from the tech companies why would they let scooters run wild without proper regulations? You must realize that people have already been seriously hurt.”
Sloan and Cutter looked at each other.
Neither spoke.
Ratner continued. “As politicians flounder, they muddy the waters as they try to find answers.”
Sloan was curious. “So, what’s your solution?”
“All I know is that changes are underway and the new model is not sustainable. Think of all of the Uber and Lyft drivers with no benefits or safety net. Just imagine what would happen to you, if San Francisco decides to make detectives work on the new Uber model.”
“What would that be?”
“Imagine that you are only working when a dead body’s been discovered and it's been determined that a human is required to assist the computer program find the killer. Otherwise, you sit on the curb with no pay or benefits.”
That’s entirely possible if iPoirot works.
Sloan saw Cutter’s face light up. “I already can’t afford to live in the San Francisco.”
The advocate grinned. “Many of my clients and supporters are struggling to keep up with the changes. When you both become homeless, you might want to join in our protests.”
Sloan didn’t like where the conversation was going. “Let’s get back to finding out where you were on Monday evening, after the protest.”
Ratner ignored Sloan and looked only at Cutter. “If you think that San Francisco can become some Jetsonian utopia simply by replacing a large portion of our population with more techy nerds, you’re dreaming. The only way is to erase what makes San Francisco, San Francisco, and that smacks of totalitarianism. Did we learn nothing from the Nazis during World War Two? I for one do not want to live in such a city.”
Sloan raised her voice. “Let’s go back to where you answer our questions, shall we? Did you go to the theatre after the protest?”
Ratner snapped. “No, I did not.”
“Then where did you go?”
“I came back here to help a family that were about to be evicted.”
“We’ll need their names and contact information.”
“I can give you their names, but it won’t help you; U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement came into my office and immediately deported them back to Guatemala.”
“That’s a problem for you.”
“All you need to do is to talk to ICE. They’ll confirm that I was here until after ten.”
“Do you think any of your protesters went to the theatre?”
Ratner laughed. “Now, how could they afford to do that?”
“Just so you know, if they did, we’ll know by tomorrow.”
“How, with your fancy new artificial intelligence software? Have you asked yourself why the developers of iPoirot are supplying it pro bono?”
Cutter and Sloan didn’t comment.
Ratner said, “Just so you know, pro bono is often code for a corporate dry run of untested technology.”
Cutter and Sloan still didn’t say anything.
“Why isn’t it using its smarts to solve the real problems like aging infrastructure, under employment, homelessness and the shrinking social nets to help people?”
“Thank you for your time.” Sloan turned to leave.
As they left the office, Jessica and John turned off their video cameras.
Cutter said, “It’ll be interesting to see what the artificial intelligence program thinks about what that lawyer had to say.”
Jessica gave her head a soft shake. “It’s only a database with an artificial intelligence layer and it doesn’t work like that. What I want to know is how he has even heard about iPoirot. Everyone is supposed to have signed a confidentiality agreement.”
“I’m afraid the SFPD is like an old toilet, it’s a gonna leak.”
As they walked down the stairs Sloan reflected on Cutter’s reaction to the lawyer.
I’m young enough to switch careers. If I was Cutter’s age and facing forced retirement, I’d be worried too.
Chapter 35
Once they hit the pavement, Cutter turned to his partner. “Forgetting his politics, what did ya think of him, Sloan? Do ya think he could be involved?”
They watched where they stepped.
“Ratner’s definitely got an agenda and a group that he can easily manipulate. So, he can do protests any time he wants. But no, I can’t see why he would use a protest to delay Jill Gillberry’s arrival at the theatre. The delay would have only been for a few minutes anyway. On the other hand, he is blowing into the wind.”
“Huh?”
“All the protests in the world aren’t going to stop progress.”
“You do realize that even the tech leaders you admire so much limit their children’s use of technology. The more money they make out of technology, the more they apparently shield their families from it.”
“Look John, I don’t include social media apps when I talk about technology. Most social media apps are using behavioral cocaine to turn people into addicts. They give you an easy way to get the information you seek. Their job is to make you come back, and back again.”
“Give me an example.”
“You take a picture of your dog and post it to Facebook. Then you spend the next twenty-four hours going back to see how many ‘Likes’ you got and responding to comments. The company then sells your likes and attention to advertisers, no matter how questionable.”
“Explain.”
“They are dealing with accounts that do everything from targeting the LGBT community, to denying proven facts by calling them fake news. The bottom line is they are not protecting the young and gullible under the defense of free speech.”
Cutter said, “It seems that the leading social media and search companies are apologizing for violating the trust of their users on a daily basis.”
“What’s the point of being more efficient if you spend the extra time watching kitten videos?”
“Next thing you know they’ll have robots telling us what to do.”
Sloan said, “Let’s go back to discussing Ratner. Do you think he’s actually making a difference for anyone?”
“Welfare and charity mean nothing unless the person being helped wants to submit to the change. And most of these people like the way they live, if you can call it living. I think his homeless clients come just to vent their anger hoping they’ll make more people sad for them.”
“I can’t argue with you. But, do you think any of his protesters could be vigilantes and have decided enough is enough?”
Cutter said, “Now you’re thinking like a detective. You need to question if you think everyone connected to a case may in fact be the killer. Having said that, working under pressure like we do, without all the facts, mistakes will be made. The important thing is that you don’t get tunnel vision. Our goal is to remove all uncertainty regarding the circumstances surrounding Jill Gillberry’s death.”
“Then where are we going next?”
“Back to headquarters. Let’s find out if Garcia and Lee have come up with anything we can use.”
Chapter 36
Sloan and Cutter found Garcia and Lee making follow up phone calls when they returned.
Sloan said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Cutter, Garcia and Lee were going over the day’s events when Lieutenant Brown and Sloan entered the room. “I’ve got good news and bad. Which do you want first, Cutter?”
“Hit us with the bad.”
“The Chief of Police, George Payne, and the Mayor called to remind me that the clock is ticking and every hour you go without solving the case is costing the city millions of dollars in lost tourist revenues. Hotel cancellations are running close to twenty-five percent.”
“Super. I’ll take the good news now.”
“The first results are in. Go into iPoirot and click on Gillberry, Jill, Murder Book.”
Sloan was in first and found the data before the others.
Brown added, “In addition to the video our officers shot as the patrons left the Orpheum Theatre, the database was able to access the CCTV footage from the cameras near the theatre to get a second or third chance to use its facial recognition ability to identify nearly everyone who was in attendance.”
Cutter had a smug smile. “So, if it hasn’t identified everyone, we’ll never be able to trust it to see if someone was there or not. How many faces wasn’t the software able to identify from the theatre?”
“As a matter of fact there are a hundred and seven that it’s still working on.”
Cutter grinned. “I didn’t think the thing could replace having human cops collecting identification from each person leaving the theatre.”
Brown ignored Cutter. “Sloan suggested that most of the tickets were probably bought with credit cards on the phone or from the box office. That allowed the system to identify and confirm that a hundred and six were in fact out of town tourists. That leaves us with only one individual that the system hasn’t identified as of yet.”
Cutter swore to himself. “Can you pull up a picture of them?”
Sloan said, “Sure.”
The individual was wearing a woman’s wide brimmed hat, a scarf and sunglasses.
Lee said, “Since it was dark out, why was she wearing that hat and sunglasses?”
Cutter said, “The bodyguards never said anything about a hat.”
Lee speculated. “If it’s the same woman, she could have left it on her seat while she went to the restroom.”
Brown ignored the comments. “Sloan can you ask it to look at the videos of the protest that stopped Jill’s limo and see if that face matches anyone.”
“Copy that.”
A moment later, “Shit!”
“What’s the matter Sloan?”
“My computer just got booted off iPoirot.”
Brown pulled her iPhone off her belt and made a call. “We just got booted off the system, what’s the problem?”
She pushed the speaker option so everyone could hear.
The person at the other end of the line was reluctant to speak. “Umm, software can be fidgety sometimes. I can tell you that we are having to take all of our IBM PC-based infrastructure that goes back to the 1980s and we’re trying to get it to work with this new stuff. It isn’t as easy as they made it out to be.”
Brown spoke loudly. “I don’t want to hear about finger pointing. We have a killer on the loose. I just want it up and working. Can you do that for me?”
“Umm, maybe if we reinstall the software program, maybe that might help.”
“Do whatever it takes and do it now.” Brown ended the call.
Cutter grinned at Sloan. “See, I told ya that having a hard copy was a good idea.”
Brown frowned at John. “The clock is ticking, Cutter. Perhaps you’re getting too old for the job. Are you telling me that it’s time you retired?”
John Cutter kept his mouth shut and glanced away.
Garcia and Lee looked away.
Brown stormed out.
Sloan asked, “Do you get political heat on every big case?”
“Tune out the political interference for now. I’ll stickhandle it. We need to focus on solving this case. If you get mired in the political crap with me, it’ll only handicap us both and slow our progress.”
Garcia and Lee lowered their heads and kept silent.
Cutter motioned for Sloan to follow him to the coffee pot.
“Since the damned system is down, how about the four of us catch a quick dinner or do you have something on tonight?”
“Where are you thinking of eating?”
“I was thinking of some good seafood. I know a place down by the water. I know Garcia and Lee like to eat there.”
“I think I’ll pass. The ocean around here is just a giant toilet. We’ve been dumping our shit into it for hundreds of years and it’s never been flushed. With all the mercury and other chemicals, you’ll die if you eat too much of that stuff.”
“I’ll take that as a no, then.” Cutter closed his eyes. “Look Sloan, if you really want to survive in Homicide, you need to learn to hang out with your fellow cops after shift. We work as a team on big cases and you need to bond with Garcia and Lee.”
“Perhaps another night.”
“It’s up to you.”
37
Friday
Chapter 37
Friday
It was day four of the investigation.
Cutter turned on his television to have some company as he made himself coffee and toast.
“This is Judy Pearcy, I am live on the Embarcadero where protesters have once again shut down the street trying to block people from getting into their offices. As you can see, there are about fifty protesters carrying signs demanding that the technology companies leave San Francisco.”
Please, not before I’ve had my coffee.
John found the remote and changed the channel.
On the new channel, the District Attorney was standing at a dais in front of the San Francisco courthouse. “Silicon Valley has created the greatest amount of wealth ever seen. Since the CEO’s compensation package was tied to the company stock, financial deceit became too much of a temptation. We will prove that the CEO and CFO cooked the books then unloaded their stock before the company's stock price collapsed.”
John turned off the TV.
Sloan, Garcia and Lee were working the phones while they waited for John Cutter, who was unusually late.
When Cutter finally walked in, he was apologetic. “I had to take an Uber into work; car wouldn’t start.”
Garcia smirked. “You mean your old clunker finally gave up the ghost.”
Cutter gave Garcia an evil eye then spoke to everyone in the room. “My ride happens to be a black 1968 Mustang. It’s got a V8, Holley headers and an Edelbrock four barrel Carburetor. It might not be show quality, but it’s definitely a classic.”
Garcia defended his remark. “Admit it Cutter, it’s close to being a donation wreck to some charity. Besides, it’s a Ford and you know what F. O. R. D. stands for don’t you, Found-On-the- Road-Dead.”
Cutter turned away from Garcia to look at his partner.
Garcia continued to needle him. “Sloan, have you seen the only car in the garage that’s hidden under a tarp so no one can laugh at it? Well that’s John’s.”
Jessica ignored Garcia. “I’m glad to see you’re using ride share technology to make your life easier and cheaper, Cutter.”
“Well, I have to admit it was faster and cheaper than trying to take a cab. Anyway, I had a nice chat with the driver about those electric scooter things.”
“What did he have to say?”
“He told me that the only people he’s seen or heard that have actually used them are drunks who can’t drive their own cars home and who Uber drivers won’t let them into their vehicles in case they barf. Apparently, people get on these things, weave all over the road and give drivers the finger if anyone honks or yells at them.”
“I guess that’s one of the reasons people that rent them are just leaving them lying all over the place, when they’re finished with them.”
