Web of the Weaver Book III: Financial matters, Chapter 3

I spent several days working, both as The Investigator and as Orb Weaver.

Criminals were becoming nervous. The rumor was that something had… irritated Orb Weaver.

If only they knew, I thought as I looked through the paperwork as The Investigator. The problem was that materials were both hard copy and online, and I had to compare them. The hall of records allowed me in, but… I stared at the stacks of records around me, while bugs worked on the modified cell phones I’d built for them. They were underground, just outside of the hall of records, little antenna pulled out to allow them to tap into the signal. Arcadia was having a teacher in-service day so I was free.

For myself, I had four record folios open at a time—the field of vision of my eyes didn’t let me do more, and I had to manually turn the pages. It was irritating that I just couldn’t use my bugs, but well, Orb Weaver and The Investigator didn’t know each other, not that well.

And nothing. There was no sign of difference between written and online records, but that would have been easy.

The holding company had, by the records, little involvement in the operations of their subsidiary. There was little sign that they were shorting the company, and while some of the records of meetings mentioned worries about the profitability of the establishment, it didn’t look like they were squeezing the company.

And yet Dad had talked about scrimping on safety measures. Signs that a company was doing poorly.

So… where is the money going? Someone dipping in the till?

I leaned back and frowned, rubbing my face through my mask.

Fact. According to the holding company, this company wasn’t that unprofitable.

Fact. They were skimping on safety measures.

Fact. The previous company was also facing difficulties and had a whistleblower, but…

But they were also providing money to the holding company and stockholders. There was no sign that, at the higher levels, there was any sense of concern beyond what you normally got from a struggling business. Not enough to risk the utter torrent of shit that was now coming down on everyone associated with the affair. In fact, I had to delay my session to give the FBI time to copy every record regarding the disaster. A few of the agents had given me suspicious looks as they left the hall of records.

Well, I couldn’t blame them. They had issues with Parahumans, given that not three years after they’d archly told the PRT that the FBI had no need for assistance, Password had strolled through their HQ using his insignificant parahuman power to… scramble every password and code of every device the FBI used.

The PRT had managed to avoid laughing, at least on TV, as they sent some Protectorate tinkers to save the FBI, but a certain amount of bad blood remained, and that extended to unaffiliated parahumans.

But if the money wasn’t going to the holding company, and it wasn’t going to the now deceased managers—and there was no sign it had been, then…

It was going somewhere else. The difference between what the holding company received and what the cost-cutting had saved was… substantial.

In fact, I could—

My burner phone rang. There were only a few people who had that number. I picked it up, while my bugs just froze.

WINSLOW. TROUBLE. COME DRESSED FOR WORK. 304WRK5

Dad’s ID, and WRK5 said that he wasn’t in danger, the call was uncoerced, and there was no probability of violence, but that I was needed.

Interesting.  I hadn’t expected my codewords to come in handy so quickly. I stared at the pile of work, then sighed. I would get back to this tomorrow.

But what was going on at Winslow? If it was Greg, I would be very cross.

*****

Walking into Winslow felt odd. I was in uniform, voice changer active, and some of the kids were filming me. They were backing off a little, whispers and comments.

The Investigator might not be Orb Weaver, but any cape commanded respect—or fear. Even Leet, even if only due to the possibility of being in the blast radius of his gadgets.

Every cape, even the least, had some fragment of power that no mere “mortal” could touch. Probably explained why so many Capes were so arrogant.

My bugs were tracking everyone in the building. Most of the kids were in class, the ones currently out, likely because they had seen the taxi that had delivered me to the front of the school.

And they were being quickly ushered into their classes.

So, unlike the Winslow I remembered.

It didn’t take me long to get to the office, and the secretary called ahead. I walked into the office and…

Wait. Maria?

Along with Kurt and Lacy. Dad had sent me some messages, but he couldn’t be here. He had no reason, and it would be suspicious. But he mentioned someone could use a hand.

Maria had a rapidly worsening bruise on one eye, and three teens were in the other part of the room.

E88 members. Or well, wannabe members. None of them, I expected, had been initiated.

E88 Initiations appeared to be on temporary hold. Something about bug issues.

“What’s a cape doing here?” one of the E88 members said. I could see his ID on the desk of  Principal Thomas.

Upside down, but that was easy enough for me to work around.

“I am here because I knew I would be needed, Mr. Wilkes.”  In my pocket, my bugs worked on the phone. “In the office so soon after your arrest for vandalizing a car?”

“How do—“

“I know many things. But not, it seems, why I’m here.”

Thomas sighed. “Well, tell The Investigator, Maria.”

“I tried to beat up one of the boys, the other two helped him, but I started it. I said I had to go to the bathroom, and then… you know.”

Lie. 

I didn’t need powers for that, but the three were starting to grin, and Kurt’s big, muscular hands were clenching. Lacy was doing the same, but I expect she was thinking more about using a sledgehammer than her hands.

“Isn’t it like, mandatory suspension?” One asked. “You know, for being a bully?” 

For a brief moment, I considered having Orb Weaver just ‘happen’ by, but… no. I couldn’t.

“She attacked you…” I said. “Interesting.” I looked at one of them—he had scratches on his face. “She started with scratching you.”

“Yeah! You got it.”

“Ah.”

Every night I read from eight to twelve books, and I could remember much of them. In the daytime I read more, if I was close to a computer, because I didn’t need to worry about dividing my attention.

And since I was the “Investigator” many of those books were on interrogation and detective skills, as well as evaluating crime scenes.

And I knew why I was here. Maria wasn’t going to tell, and if she didn’t, one thing that Mr. Thomas had established was that the rules applied to everyone. And it was her word against three and…

He had made it plain he had no patience for the E88 or ABB, which might open him to accusations of favoring a minority, especially if she claimed that she had started it.

“Let us see the crime scene,” I said. “It was in a place where there were no cameras.”

“Yeah, there was a camera there!”

“And?”

“And it was on a motorized swivel, which unaccountably jammed,” Thomas’s face was angry.

“And it was working…”

“This morning. But I haven’t had anyone touch it. I got a call you might be on the way.”

“Thank you.”

Their parents aren’t here. Why not? Apathetic, or wanting plausible deniability? Was this ordered by the E88?

If so, not anyone important.

The scene of the fight was in one of the corners, where the turn obscured the view of any of the classrooms.

I had personal memories of this part of the school. VERY personal memories. Bugs started gyrating, and then calmed down. The camera was new, but I could see the problem. It turned on a 30 second sweep, leaving blind spots.

But even with the extra money, Winslow was still not wealthy, and since a fight probably wouldn’t end that quickly, and the camera could catch people coming and going…

“Jammed before the fight, and no view of who came.”

“Yeah.”

The camera was just out of my reach, but I could see the joint. There was some kind of residue on it, and I sent one of the ants crawling in the walls to run out of a gap and, as ants would do, run its feelers over the residue.  Nobody even noticed.

“The residue, I expect is from gum.”

Suddenly, the trio didn’t look so happy.

“Gum?”

“The simplest way for Maria to stop the camera, before she ambushed you…”  I blinked. “But how did she do it?”

“Um, just stuck it on?”

“Maria, come here.”

She did, still holding her bruised eye.

“Stand up, reach up as high as you can. On your tiptoes…”

Her hand was nearly six inches short of the swivel.

“Odd.”

“Hey, she used a chair!”

“She did?” I turned to them. “Where is it?”

“I—“

“After all, I’m certain nobody would have missed a chair, not after the principal’s orders.”

“Um, no, it was… she probably brought it here and then took it back.”

“So she…left class. Secured a chair, dragged it here, with nobody noticing the noise and no other cameras picking up the odd sight, disabled the camera, dragged the chair back and then attacked you. I have a simpler solution. Why don’t you come here and reach up.”

He did nothing, and then Thomas growled at him. He did, slumping, but at another growl, reached up.

And easily touched the swivel.

I hadn’t sent any bugs to him, but I had a hunch.

“Turn out your pockets, please.”

It took another growl, but there it was. A pack of gum.

And a bit of gum wrapped up in its wrapper.

Remember, criminals love smart-stupid plans.  A book I’d read.  Someone planning for the entire school to be shut down, hiding the evidence in their pocket, where they could dump it later. Instead of considering that nobody would go through every trashcan for something like this.

“So, do you often carry used gum around?”  I held out my hand, and like someone marching to his execution, he held it out and I opened the paper, sniffed it. “Odd, I didn’t recall grease scented gum as a thing…”

“I—she said she did it!” the third of the trio burst out.

“Because I expect you had a short conversation with her after you attacked her.” I gestured to Maria. “Please show me your forearms.”

She did. “It was… when I was hitting—“

“The bruise patterns are consistent with defensive wounds. You were holding up your arms, trying to protect yourself, then they gripped you by the wrists, pulled your arms down, and then hit you in the face. You didn’t try to fight until you couldn’t escape, and probably surprised them, hence the claw marks.”

Her mouth opened like I had spoken some incredible feat of detective work instead of seeing what the adults probably noticed—And that’s why Dad called for me. Being a cape gives me some gravitas that three thugs weren’t expecting to encounter.

“None of you have been blooded,” I said. “Not on the streets, not in Hookwolf’s rings.”

“I—fuck we ha—“

“Because if you were, you would understand how serious this is. The DA might see himself clear to filing felony charges against you, with hate crime enhancements. Since you deprived Maria of a right to a free education, Federal civil rights charges would also apply. Given that you are juniors, you would likely be charged as an adult.” I shook my head. “Call it… twenty years. At least for those who do not confess and show it wasn’t their idea.”

A lie. Any DA, let alone a federal DA who tried to file felony charges for this would be laughed out of court.

But teens were ignorant. Worse, they thought they knew everything. I know I had. And now a cape, with all that implied, was telling them this, and since their great plan, which probably even Skidmark could have improved on, was collapsing…

“I—“

“It was George!” the youngest member of the trio said. “He said that she was just a slut, and we could smack her around and have some fun with her and she’d never—“

“Shut up!”

“Fuck you, I’m not going to prison for you!”

“I didn’t want to do it!” the third shouted out.

“Do it? I thought Maria attacked you?” I couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of my voice as I saw his fear. Huh. Maybe I wasn’t completely over my bullying.

“No, I was in her class, and I texted… but I didn’t want to do it.”

“You fuck—“ George was advancing but suddenly ran into Thomas’ outstretched arm. It stopped him like an iron bar.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “We’re going back to my office, and I think your parents need to be there for your change of educational institution.”

“What?” Three voices sounded as one.

“Whether or not Maria’s guardians take further action is up to them, but since you didn’t bother to listen to the zero tolerance bullying policy, or read what you and your parents signed…  your future education lies with Lincoln Continuation School.”

“What—but you can’t do that—“

“Okay, I’ll just call the police.”

“Such a scandal would inconvenience certain individuals,” I commented. “Kaiser, for one. I can’t but wonder if he might not bail the miscreants out in person… to express his annoyance.”

They deflated. If anyone else had said it…

But no, they probably assumed that I did talk to Kaiser. Granted, I might be right. If I were Kaiser, I’d want nothing to happen to blot my constructed lie of worrying about the welfare of the good people of the Bay.  Three on one girl didn’t look good for the people he was trying to convince. As for the others, Kaiser didn’t need to woo them. If anything he was probably worried they might exceed his orders.

With that, we tromped back to the office, the completely deflated teens being sent to another room to wait.

“Do you want to go home, Maria?” Thomas asked.

“I… no.  I’m… I’m sorry I lied…”

“You were afraid,” I told her. “Understandable because you are not Alexandria. But remember…” I paused, and bugs froze, then started moving again. “The bully has to make you helpless in your own mind.  To convince you that you can’t fight back. Winslow, I’ve been told, is different than it used to be. People will listen, but you must speak to them.” I shook my head. “Easier said than done, I know.”

Boy, did I know.

“Honey, are you certain you want to go back?” Lacy said.

“I… yes.” Maria nodded. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

A lie. We could all see it. She was embarrassed, a little ashamed at her fear and she didn’t want to run away.

Well, I could certainly empathize with that.

“Fine, but I’ll have someone walk you back to class.” A few minutes later, and a short Asian girl came walking in. “Reina,” Mr. Thomas said. “Could you take Maria back to class.”

“Of course. Reina, you will sit with us for lunch.”

“But I—“ Maria’s mouth snapped shut.

Reina laughed. “Don’t worry, I think it’s time we started breaking down some of these stupid barriers. We’re just high school students, after all. I’d like to get to know you…” And with that, they left.

Kurt and Lacy thanked me, and I’ve have to Remind Dad that they knew Taylor, and my disguise might not work on close observation, especially if they weren’t worried like they are now. I made my farewells, leaving the principal to talk to Maria’s parents.

Parents in truth if not in law. For all the risk, I felt a good deal of satisfaction.

But I had other things to think about. Everyone reacted to a cape differently. Even Mr. Thomas, who had experience had shown a certain reserve, someone around a possibly dangerous individual. Even Kurt and Lacy. Mast definitely the trio, and Maria.

But Reina… She’d had a cool regard for me. But no awe. No fear.

Interesting…

Well, it was time to get back to my research. If only corporations were as easy to buffalo as a band of racist teens.