Page 82 of The Towering Sky

“I can assure you that she did not,” Kiles cut in drily. Watt bit the inside of his cheek. Nadia would have kept him from saying that.

The officer waved, and the hologram grew watery and dissolved like rapidly melting snow. “How do you know Avery Fuller?” she went on, abruptly changing tack.

“Avery is a friend,” Watt said warily.

“Just a friend?”

Did they know he’d taken her to that University Club party, last year? “I wanted it to be more but, you know, Avery is basically unattainable,” Watt quipped, and he could swear he saw a ghost of a smile on Campbell’s face.

Officer Kiles was less amused. “What about Leda Cole? Are you ‘just friends’ with her too?”

“What does my love life have to do with this, exactly?”

The young officer stared at him levelly. “I’m trying to understand how you became so intertwined in it all.”

Watt understood the subtext. How had Watt, a seemingly ordinary downTower guy, become entangled in the lives of girls from the 103rd to thousandth floors?

“I guess it just... happened,” Watt said inadequately.

The detectives exchanged a ponderous glance. Finally Officer Kiles lifted her hand, palm up, in an ambiguous gesture that might have meant good-bye or might have simply implied a lack of trust, as if she didn’t quite buy Watt’s story.

“Thank you, Mr. Bakradi. You’re free to go. For now,” she added ominously.

Watt didn’t need to be told twice. He stood as quickly as he could and hurried toward the door. Before he could reach it, though, Officer Kiles asked him one more question.

“By the way, Mr. Bakradi—do you know anyone by the name of Nadia?”

Watt felt a sudden chasm opening inside him, a black hole of fear so immense it seemed to have a gravity all its own.

For a single breathless moment, he considered confessing. Trying to cut a deal in exchange for telling them everything—that Mariel had been stalking all of them, that Leda had accidentally killed Eris, that she might have killed Mariel too, but he wasn’t sure; he couldn’t be sure of anything anymore. Before Watt got tangled up in all this, the world had seemed so simple, sobinary, divided crisply into black and white, 1s and 0s. Now he knew nothing for certain.

But everything in Watt recoiled at the thought of hurting Leda. He stumbled back a step, hoping his face didn’t look as stricken as he felt.

“I don’t know anyone named Nadia.”

The instant they were outside the police station, he turned Nadia back on abruptly and filled her in on everything that had happened.We’re in trouble, he concluded, with a heavy, sinking feeling.

They don’t know anything except that the name Nadia was scrawled in that notebook, she reminded him.

But what if there’s other evidence? I’m terrified that they’re going to keep digging and digging, that they won’t rest until they findsomething. And we both know there’s a lot to find, he thought helplessly.

I’m so sorry, Nadia replied, which was ridiculous, since none of this was her fault. It was his.

Watt knew what he had to do.

There was only one way to find out for certain what the police knew or why they had questioned him this morning.

I’m going to hack the police station, he decided.

Nadia’s response was a swiftNO, written in flashing red letters so large that they obstructed Watt’s vision. He ignored her.

It had been a long time since Watt had to go all James Bond and sneak Nadia somewhere for an on-site hack. Actually, the last time he’d done it was the day he met Avery—when he was working for Leda, trying to figure out who Atlas liked. It felt like a million years ago.

But Watt wouldn’t feel safe until he knew for certain what the police knew. And the only way he could find that out was from inside their infrastructure.

Absolutely not, Watt! It’s too dangerous, Nadia replied, and he could hear her silently shouting.This isn’t a tollbooth. This is the NYPD headquarters we’re talking about!

But Watt couldn’t handle this state of uncertainty anymore.It’s the only way for us to find out the truth, he insisted, trying toignore the way the hairs on the back of his arms lifted with fear at the prospect.