In nine lifetimes, you'll never know as much about your cat as your cat knows about you.
-Michel de Montaigne
"Very well," she said, dropping the fake contralto. "What do you need to know."
"Let's start with the basics. Why did you notice that Leena was missing?"
She paused for a moment, considering the question. I was pleased that she didn't blurt out the usual simplistic twattle about 'her not being there.' Mr. Jones was definitely a deep thinker, as well as a leader. Darwin was right, I would need to tread carefully around this one.
"Leena fulfills a certain... function for me. When that function ceased, I made inquiries and was informed of her absence."
"What do you do?"
Caught her again. She was expecting me to ask what Leena did for her, but it was more important to me to understand how Leena fit in to Mr. Jones' life. The vacuum created by her absence would be my first clue as to where to find the flow of Leena's presence. Perhaps a bit of explanation is in order at this point.
A Finder, a good one at any rate, is not exactly like an investigator, private or otherwise. It is a mistake that is often made, mostly by people who do not understand us, which is actually most people. An investigator will look for clues, follow them and solve, or more often not solve, the mystery of the event or location of the missing thing. They look for what is there, for things that are out place or different than they should be. They look for facts.
Being a Finder in the way I was trained to be uses a completely different set of assumptions. As a Finder, I look for relationships between people, their environment, time and so on. I find how those elements weave and interact, attract and avoid each other, combine and separate. Finders are trained in the ability to see the flow of events around the missed object and note the gaps, seeing what isn't there anymore. It is more complicated than that, but it is a start.
Having considered her answer, Mr. Jones supplied that she was 'in textiles.' It was a lie of course, but I let it stand unchallenged because I wanted to uncover why she felt the need to lie about her job. I was going to let her show me that.
"And what was Leena in this?" I asked.
"She was responsible for sales reports in the southern region. When the monthly report failed to appear, I enquired."
Another lie. Mr. Jones was clearly in charge of this 'textile' concern, and Leena fulfilled a critical role in it, if not the central role. I could now also see that Mr. Jones was responsible for Leena's presence and contribution, and would be called to account if it were known that Leena was no longer available.
Another flash of insight. Mr. Jones was afraid. She was afraid of the people she worked for, and what they would do when they discovered Leena's absence. That would explain the disguise and the non-descript transportation. It was a working theory, but I needed more information.
"How long do you have?" She had approached several other Finders already. Given the relationship with her superiors, I knew that somewhere a clock was ticking, time was flowing, and sooner or later one of the people Mr. Jones reported to would be drawn into the void created by Leena's absence. Then hell would rain down upon Mr. Jones with the fury or a Mercurian solar flare. She was desperate.
This drew a sharp look from her. "How did you..." she broke off and thought for a moment.
I had broken through her facade to the core of the matter. As I had said, there was no concern for Leena, but for what Leena provided to Mr. Jones, which she in turn supplied to her superiors.
I watched the conflicting thoughts and emotions race across her face. More, I could sense the ebb and flow of events as they surrounded her. I could see, tenuously, the vortex of events beginning to draw in around her, drawing her into its center. There were powerful forces at work here if they could affect this powerful woman.
I reached down again and petted Darwin. Perhaps he had been right. What I could already see of the situation was frightening in it vastness. No one involved in this would come out unscathed.
Then Darwin did something he didn't usually do during these interviews. He worked his way onto my lap. Given his size, he occupied my entire lap, and he turned to watch Mr. Jones. He had moved into a passive defensive posture, non-threatening but presenting a visible barrier between myself and what he perceived to be danger. Was there some hidden threat that I wasn't aware of? What did Darwin see?
None of this registered on my face, not that Mr. Jones was looking at me anymore. She was once again focused on Darwin. Her resolve broken, her danger made real, she was vulnerable, and vulnerable people are unpredictable, and frequently dangerous.
Then something happened. I am used to sensing the flow of events, cause and effect, both visually and aurally. If I were to explain it in ways you could understand, the flow sounded like wind, breezes passing by and around me, or like the waves on the ocean. They looked to me like tendrils of white and grey smoke, occasionally black for the really bad things, swirling around individuals. Each of these things, the sounds and sights, are causes that can be traced back to previous causes. If I expand my sight, I can trace the flow backward to its sources, and then forwards to probable future events. This is how Finding works for me. This time however, the sound that I heard was a deep booming wave striking against an immovable cliff face. In the back of my vision I could sense an immense dark cloud, lightning flashing from it, hanging over all of the past. I shook it off, but there was something else was bothering me, an echo of the sound in my ears.
It finally dawned on me. Dammit. Dammit it all to hell. I was caught, and it was my own damned fault. Sometimes the ability to see the flow, the ability to Find, was a benefit and a blessing, both to myself and to those who engage me. Sometimes though, I am so enamored with my skill that I just show off, and that never ends well. I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have left the door closed. Maybe I should have just listened to Darwin. He knew.
By revealing her secret, I had exposed my knowledge of the situation, and now that I looked again, I could see that the vortex of events to come had caught me up in its swirling pull. For better and for worse, my fate was now intertwined with that of Mr. Jones. I knew too much, and she knew that I knew too much.
"You are very good," she said regaining her composure, drawing her gaze from Darwin back to my face. I was angry with myself, disappointed in my mistake, and frustrated that I couldn't find a way out of this without going through it. I didn't care if she could read it from me or not. We were stuck together.
"I have eleven days until the next report is due," she replied. She left the consequences of failing to produce that report unspoken.
"Fine," I said, a little relieved at the extended time frame. A lot can happen in eleven days.
"I am going to need access to Leena's workplace and her residence," I added.
"I can arrange the residence, but the workplace is quite impossible."
"Then we are both dead in twelve days. I am afraid that won't work for me."
Once again, I caught her off-guard. The truth of what I said registered on her face. She was surprised, not that her life was at stake, but that I knew it.
"You can deputize me, make me a manager, or give me whatever special temporary clearance is required to gain access. I am afraid this is not optional. I have to see where she was, so that I can see where she has gone."
This time, the look on her face was of awe. I hate that look. I can't read minds, there is no magic, nor do I have a team of people digging through your trash to find every secret you keep to use it on you like some cheap night-club trick. I just pay attention.
"Stop that," I said.
"But...," she fought to regain her composure. "You are better than they said. They said you were very good at this, but I had no conception of just how good. Maybe that is why I left you until last. I was afraid that you might reveal things that are better left hidden."
I was thunderstruck. I knew that she had seen other Finders, but to be last? That was terrible news indeed. Now I would have a dozen or so mid- to mildly talented Finders muddying up the flow before I had even started.
Worse, there were a two or three among the group who would definitely be a problem. Markham and Joy had a somewhat effective partnership and between the two of them they could usually sense the broad strokes of the flow, enough to keep them steadily employed. If they got into scenes ahead of my, I would have their trail to contend with as well, and they could be leading me for quite some time.
Fereydoon Bobak was an old friend/student from a decade ago, but I hadn't seen him since the school disbanded. I had no idea where he was, but I had heard that he had married his old sweetheart, Alice. We were happy then, the four of us... but enough of that. I wasn't sure that Fred was even Finding anymore.
My greatest concern was Gregson. Michael Gregson was a Finder, and a very good one. His problem was that he was driven by a hunger. When people leave, when things go missing, a void remains that changes the flow of patterns of movement and behavior all around them. Gregson internalized that void. He brought it into his mind and carried it with him. Everything he touched, everything he acquired was drawn into that void, swallowed up whole. All Finders are driven by a need, but Gregson's was insatiable as a black-hole. I would have to tread carefully and move quickly, things that are not easy to do at the same time.
"When did you talk to Gregson?"
"Two days ago." The day after the disappearance. Damn.
"What did he ask for?"
"He was very expensive. He charges more than you do. Frankly I didn't like his attitude."
"Not the money, what did he ask for? Did he ask to see her residence, her place of employment?"
"Yes, he asked for both. I let him into her apartment that same day." The scene would be polluted then, but not unusable. Gregson had a habit of destroying patterns as he consumed them, mostly to make sure that no one could come up behind him and follow. The situation was not irretrievable though, because Gregson and I didn't look for the same things anymore, though he didn't know that.
"I said no to workplace though, and he didn't push."
"He is going to try and break in then, if he hasn't done so already. You might want to heighten security. Shall we go then?"
"You're taking the job? What about fees? We haven't talked about that yet."
"I have no choice but to take the job. I find living pleasant most days, and would like to continue. As for fees, you will be supplying me with an open account. I will withdraw what is necessary, when it is necessary. How much is your life worth to you, after all."
She paused at that. "Yes," she admitted. "Where first?"
"The workplace. It is the most relevant place to start." Perhaps we can beat Gregson there, I added silently, but something told me I was already too late