The Gadgeteer

Chapter 11

THE NEXT DAY, Arabeth headed to the radio station early. If Mr. Rogers was an early riser, she wanted to catch him fresh and ready to think. If he wasn't, someone at the station could tell her when he would be in.

He was early, but he was also in a bad mood, it seemed. As she stopped outside his office, she heard a quiet stream of invective preceding what sounded like drawer slamming.

She rapped softly and pushed the door open a bit more, peeking in. He was alone and smiling at something as she entered.

He waved her in, but didn't seem to be listening as she started her spiel.

"Sorry, Arabeth. If the police need us to increase the signal strength, they'll have to pay for it." Mr. Rogers was a genial man, even when he was letting her down. Slight jowls and a natural smile helped. "Thanks for the tip, though. I'll be sure to broadcast that information as a public safety measure."

Panic started to climb up through her limbs, making her shiver once. "You can't let this information out. Not until we catch this man. You must understand, this is our only lead."

"I think stopping them is the point, regardless of the method."

"You will cause mass hysteria and won't make a penny. In fact, you may be overrun and suffer property damage instead," she said, scrambling to change his mind. "Are you sure you haven't heard anything about a shortwave transmitter being tested in the area?"

"I am sure." His eyes narrowed. "This news won't stay quiet long, though, so what if I say you have two days of boosted signal, and I still broadcast it but tell people the entire city is protected?"

"Since we can safely conclude that theirs is a hostile endeavour, you will make targets of yourself and your family."

"If I team up with a couple other stations, it's not a problem."

"You would need to, anyway. What if you say that you're doing it, but not why? Call it a public service. Then, when the why comes out in court, your fame will skyrocket. This is the kind of thing that makes mayors, you know."

"There will be other broadcasters that hate me for it. This will override their signal."

"I have a feeling they owe you favours." She smiled. If he was fishing for money, she was going to make him work for it.

"Do I want to use something as valuable as a favour on this?"

"You'll find an angle to work, I've no doubt. And you'll come out on top still."

"You keep me in the know on this, and I'll do it. Information is power, and you seem to be rich in that regard as well," he chuckled. "Change every radio you have to my station, in case I need to get a message to you."

Clever guy, teaming up with her like this. When the story finally hit the papers, he'd be there right beside her and Hicks, happily taking credit. Not a bad deal. It was one of those everyone-wins situations.

"Agreed." She stuck her hand out and Mr. Rogers shook it to seal the deal. Her father's voice echoed through her memory: 'The only deal worth making is one that's on paper.' He had little faith in people - probably a side effect of his occupation. Would Mr. Rogers keep his word?

Next, she had to find Hicks. He'd said he'd be checking shops that sold transmitter parts. Most of those were in the same general area, so she headed that way.

She spotted him chatting with a short twenty-something guy she'd often bought information from, named Bernie. It wasn't unusual for Bernie to be chatting with a police detective, but she doubted Hicks would get any advanced information out of him. She waved and called out her greeting as she got close.

"Greetings, gentlemen. Talking about anything interesting?"

"No, Miss Barnes," Bernie smiled. "But since you're here, I might have something for you."

He often had something interesting. The hard part was finding the guy. He was better than Larry at digging up useful information, but twice the ghost.

"This one is particularly savoury, so it's double my usual."

She pulled out her money pouch and overpaid him. "All right Bernie, don't spare the details."

"There's a place in the country that's taken these people. They say they can cure the madness. It's past Eller's Grove, nearly to Sayden's Mill."

"You didn't tell me this," Hicks said accusingly.

Arabeth laughed. "You get what you pay for, you know."

Hicks shook his head. "Some things need to be done for the greater good, you know."

That made Bernie laugh. "It's an open market, right? Even I have debts to settle, bills to pay."

"All right, Bernie." Arabeth put a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me why I overpaid you."

"Well, miss, there's a special wing in that hospital. There's no normal door that lets you in - you have to puzzle your way through. It's like a secret, hidden entrance."

"Well, that is interesting. Can you tell me how to get in?"

Bernie reached into a pocket but hesitated. "I'm not keen on risking a steady income, but I'm sure you'll come back out just fine. Between that fox and your gadgets, you've got more luck than anyone I've ever met." He handed her a small folded paper. "I'm sure you can decipher this. It's a bit of a riddle, but I have a guarantee that it works."

Arabeth gave him a couple extra coins with a nod. "A pleasure doing business with you, Bernie, as always."

"Also, I'm not sure I should be saying this, but I'm hearing some nasty things from Larry. He's talking funny about you lately. He's giving you information that will be dangerous to you and hanging around for the photos. Thought you should know. He's trying to connect you to the brawling and attacks. I'm not sure how or why."

Arabeth smiled. "Thanks, Bernie. It's nice to have someone confirm it." There was a code among informants, and Bernie had just broken it for Arabeth's sake.

As Bernie walked away, Hicks sighed. "You trust him too easily. How do you know he's not selling you fish oil?" he asked.

"There are precious few people I trust. He knows my rules. Good information pays good money. If someone gives me bad information, their next seven leads pay at half price. Not half my price, mind you. Half of what people normally pay. That's a significant income drop for my regulars. They don't risk that more than once."

Hicks shook his head. "It makes sense on one level, but...."

"It's a waste of money to hire two of them for the same information. These days I only pay the first one to get back to me. They like the challenge of beating their peers."

"I take it Larry been a bit slow to get back to you."

"Well, he doesn't take requests. He hears what I need and if he has anything, he sends it by messenger. No charge. What irritates me is that he always sends details that get me into danger. Not much of a gentleman, but he knows how to get a strong story. He's been useful, in his own way." The note he'd given her was probably one of those into-the-fire kind of leads, giving her no real motivation to find a translator.

"I see," Hicks said, his jaw tight.

Arabeth dismissed it. They had to get back on track. "Have you been to that hospital? I'd forgotten it even existed." She couldn't remember one that far out of the city. Then again, she didn't travel that way often.

"It's shut down. They closed it about two decades ago."

"It's worth a look, then."

"You want to go look at that rickety old death trap, based on the idea that someone is there operating an illegal medical practice?" Hicks was smirking.

"No, but it's my next lead."

"You're serious? What do you expect to find?"

"Information." Arabeth turned to go pack her satchel. She wanted to make a radio-protected strap-on hat for Marble. It might look silly, but looks took a back seat to safety. And she'd make it stylish, like a pilot's helmet. "It seems reasonable." She also needed food for Marble and herself. "Should we meet up later, around two p.m.?"