Syren's Song by Claude G. Berube Page B

detaining a federal agent.”
    â€œYes . . . of the United States. You have no rights here, Agent Golzari,” the detective said coldly. Golzari wondered how it would feel when the cane sheared off his skin. Would he be able to contain his screams?
    â€œYou shot and killed five people and nearly killed six,” the detective said as he locked his fingers together on the table.
    â€œI had no choice,” Golzari responded. “They had drawn their weapons.”
    â€œNot the sixth person.”
    â€œHe left during the exchange.” Golzari realized that he had not mentioned the mystery man who had been sitting with the two women. How did the detective know about him?
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. You were also responsible for a sixth death—the man you met in the bar, who was killed in the firefight. Why were you meeting with him?”
    â€œIt’s part of an investigation. Who was he?”
    The detective shifted and turned his head very slightly—the telltale sign of someone receiving orders through an earpiece. Most people would not have noticed the officer’s barely perceptible nod, but Golzari did. The detective had received orders and was confirming receipt.
    â€œWe have agreements with your country in that regard, Agent Golzari. Tell us why you were meeting with him.”
    â€œVery well. I’m investigating the death of Special Agent William Blake of U.S. Diplomatic Security. Your office was unable to provide—useful—information, so I investigated on my own and learned this man was involved. He was an informant who apparently was told to suppress certain information.”
    â€œWhat else did you learn?”
    â€œThat depends. Will you help in my investigation?” asked Golzari.
    The detective thought for a moment, then dismissed the two men at the door and looked in the corner at a camera and motioned with his hand to stop recording.
    â€œIt was an unpleasant episode, Agent Golzari. My government does not condone the level of violence you displayed.”
    â€œThe alternative was unacceptable to me. Self-defense is an inherent right for an individual or a country, wouldn’t you agree?” Golzari said, lifting his chin.
    â€œIt is not my role to comment on political issues.”
    â€œOne of my fellow agents was killed. Here ,” Golzari emphasized. “He was tracking down stolen equipment that went to a firm here that your government’s records say does not exist.”
    â€œThe name of the firm?” the detective asked.
    â€œAcademic Solutions,” Golzari said.
    â€œI have never heard of it.”
    â€œThe informant said another company was covering its trail. The name was Zheng Research,” Golzari answered.
    The detective tilted his head to listen again but kept his eyes on the American. “Agent Golzari, you and I are both officers of the law. Because of that, I will give you this advice: drop your investigation.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause Zheng Research and Development is not a Singaporean firm. It is from elsewhere.”
    â€œElsewhere as in China?” Golzari asked.
    The detective shook his head. “Leave this matter alone. That firm is an octopus with many tentacles. Leave it alone and it will not harm you. Provoke it and it will reach out, grab you, and squeeze you until your bones are crushed.”
    Golzari thought about that for a moment. A Chinese firm powerful enough to deter a nation-state like Singapore was a firm that posed a danger elsewhere as well. They had killed Blake, and that was reason enough for Golzari to proceed. What kind of R&D firm sends assassins to kill informants? he asked himself. A firm that had the reach of an octopus and could crush his bones—or Blake’s, or the informant’s whose name he had never learned. He slowly leaned toward the detective. “I need a lead. Something. Anything to help me find out what happened to our agent and