Web of the Weaver: Book III, Financial Matters, Chapter V

He had a small apartment, in a good part of town. But not an expensive apartment. I’d gone over public data. No real complaints. No sign of disturbance.

But a clever master would be quiet.

Granted, a clever master wouldn’t blow up a factory.

I lifted one of my small receivers, cradled in spider silk, though the ventilation shafts and to a place right above the living room. Other bugs charted the empty rooms. Bedroom, small kitchen, dining room, and the living room/office. I couldn’t see through them, not yet, but my 3D image of the place didn’t speak to anything unusual, or wealthy.

And yet, if he was skimming the money off the top… he should be wealthy.

Very wealthy.

Maybe it was in the safe. The model was one of the hermetically sealed Endbringer proof safes, the ads promising that “not even Behemoth can destroy your memories.”

I was doubtful. The cynical part of me thought that any safe put to such a challenge probably no longer had living owners to complain when it failed.

But I couldn’t be—and he was there, walking in the door. My bugs didn’t pick anyone else up, but I pulled them away. I didn’t want to risk him detecting them, and some Masters also had sensory gifts.

But very few were Tinkers, so I doubted he had any way to pick up on my little bug.

I put the earbud in as I enjoyed a little meal at the corner diner.

For a bit there weren’t many sounds. Just him walking around and muttering to himself.

Then he picked up the phone. I didn’t lean forward in my seat, as I looked up to decide what I’d get for dessert.

“It wasn’t my fault!” he said. “You wanted better numbers so I told them to downplay some of the problems! They shouldn’t have ignored that! No! Why would I do that. Now the feds are on us…”

There was a pause.

“You can’t just blame me! I have the documents and I never met you in person!”

“Fuck you!” he slammed the phone down, and I heard him pacing.

“Gotta think, gotta think. I just wanted them to save money, who the fuck let’s a bomb go off. But they’re dead now. Oh God, what happens if they find out?”

There was a pause.

“Gotta calm down. Nobody knows. If Hank sells me out, I have enough to prove that he was paying me. I’m safe.” Then he paused and his next words… were intriguing. “I have enough, why isn’t he calling me? He needs it, but I can’t call him and he isn’t calling me…”

A Master with a Master? Then he was leaving, and his door had a keypad lock.

Supposedly more secure than a keyed lock, but I had my doubts.

Then again, I also had mites on the buttons, letting me see the code he’d used when he entered the room the first time.

I waited until he left, his little car zipping out of the underground parking lot. My bugs showed that nobody else was home on his floor, and the building didn’t have video cameras.

I donned The Investigator’s uniform and quickly headed in to the building. They might not have cameras, but I wouldn’t depend on that.

A quick trip up the stairs and I was in front of his door. I hesitated for a moment.

But no. The problem was he had documents in closed drawers. Tightly packed documents that my bugs couldn’t easily access.

Down in the bottom of the building, my swarm rumbled. My emergency weapon, not that I would need it right now.

I keyed in the code and the door opened, and I walked in.

Visually, it was… nondescript. I didn’t expect it to look like an evil lair, but even so, there was something… just normal about it.

I wondered if this was the way of every villain, then chuckled at the image of Kaiser sitting in a chair going through his mail like Dad did.

But there was no time to delay. I pulled my gloves on and started going through the room.

It was… normal. Utterly normal. Bills, payments, a few bank statements, all of which were normal. No unexplained amounts of money, no gold under the floor, nothing. And yet… I looked at a few pictures. My subject at a dinner. An award’s ceremony, some kind of gathering… None of the figures looked unusual. I took a picture, and sent the image to another phone, one I’d dropped off on the way in, my insects working on it.

I could start doing image searches on it, while I continued to search the room. I had time.

And moments later, I came up with a hit.

Wait a minute… What the hell?

I knew the man, he’d figured in my research.

Benjamin Terrell.

Teacher.

Teacher could grant people powers. But he’s been in the Birdcage for years.

And Achilles has been working for years. He’d gone to school, I knew that from my research but…

Just a secretary. Someone in the background. Someone you’d never pay attention to. Teacher could grant abilities, but not powerful ones. Usually thinker or tinker powers.

Usually. On the other hand, a minor thinker power, oriented towards knowing how to talk to people… What had he said?

“Why isn’t he calling me?” Is he in contact with Teacher??

That was supposedly impossible.

I… I glanced at painting where  the hidden safe was. His safe didn’t have a biometric sensor, just another keypad. And… My bugs were moving through the room now, a hazy mass of small insects. Touching and running and—ah.

There was something taped to the bottom of the desk.

Lazy.

Well not for me to ignore good luck.

I ran one more check to make certain there was nobody on the floor. Then I walked up to the painting, removed it, and using the information my bugs had given me, keyed in the code.

And it unlocked.

I had to admit, I was feeling fairly satisfied as I opened the safe. I could—

The small, dull gray pyramid in front of the papers, beeped once, then turned red. I dove back, not soon enough as a wave of force shot out into the room, picking me up and slamming me against the wall.

I fell to the ground, the world graying around me.

Stupid, stupid Taylor.

A Master might not be a Tinker, but they can get enough money to purchase a Tinkertech booby trap.

Then, despite my best efforts, I faded into unconsciousness.