Asgard's Secret (15 page)

"You are not
under suspicion of having committed any crime, sir," the Tetron informed
me, dutifully. "However, we are investigating a multiple murder, and your
name has been recently linked with several of the deceased persons. This
necessitates my asking you some questions. It will not be necessary for you to
accompany us to our offices, provided that you have no objection to our
recording your answers here."

The star-captain
was giving me a rather peculiar look, as if she were wondering whether she'd
accidentally conscripted Jack the Ripper.

"Who's dead
this time?" I asked.

"Seven people
have been killed," the policeman told me. "Three are vormyr, one is a
Spirellan, one a human and two are Zabarans. Three of the persons gave evidence
at your recent trial, testifying that you murdered Mr. Atmanu in their
presence."

It didn't take a
mathematical genius to work out who one of the victims must be. "Balidar's
been murdered?" I said, weakly. "Heleb too?" I added,
optimistically.

"Simeon
Balidar is the dead human," the peace-officer confirmed. "The
Spirellan named Lema also testified at your trial, as did the Zabaran Shian
Mor."

I was disappointed
to hear that Heleb wasn't numbered among the dead, but I felt free to hope that
he might be grief-stricken about his little brother. "I was in jail,"
I repeated. "My every word has been monitored for the last five days. You
know that I couldn't have had anything to do with it."

"I have
already confirmed that you are not under suspicion," the Tetron reminded
me, frowning as only a Tetron can frown. "All I need to know is whether
you know anything that would cast light on the motive for the crime. Since you
had nothing to do with it, you might perhaps be able to tell us whether anyone
else had a motive."

"Right,"
I said. "As it happens, I do. The dead men were participants in a
conspiracy to frame me for the murder of the Sleath, Atmanu. The conspiracy has
just gone awry, so the person who hired them is probably trying to clear up the
evidence of his crime. His name is Amara Guur. He's not one of the dead vormyr,
I presume?"

The peace-officer
didn't seem too happy about the content of my statement, but he recorded it
meekly. "Amara Guur is not among the deceased," he confirmed.

"Pity," I
said. "He's your man, then. He's already been responsible for one murder
that I know of. I have no doubt at all that he's also responsible for these. I suggest
that you arrest him immediately."

"Do you have
any evidence to support what you say, sir?" the peace-officer asked,
dutifully.

"Absolutely,"
I said. "The best evidence there is. I know that I didn't murder the
Sleath, and that all the witnesses at my trial committed perjury in order to
force me to sign a contract drawn up by Amara Guur. You should arrest a woman
named Jacinthe Siani as well as Guur—she's a Kythnan. If you put your minds to
it, you'll have the entire puzzle unraveled by nightfall."

The star-captain
obviously wanted to get a move on. "Have you finished with this man?"
she asked. "If not, you'll have to deal with me. He's a trooper in the
Earth Star Force, and I'm his commanding officer. As it happens, I was hoping
to talk to
your
commanding officer. I need your help to ascertain the
whereabouts of a stolen vehicle and apprehend the thief. It's a matter of some
urgency."

"I fear that I
am presently engaged in a murder enquiry," the Tetron replied. "If
you care to call at our headquarters, one of our officers will record your
complaint and will doubtless do his best to assist you. The central police
station on the far side of the plaza." He turned and pointed.

"Crucero,"
the star-captain said to her lieutenant. "Get over there and see what you
can do to get some action out of these jumped-up monkeys."

I winced. All three
peace-officers were Tetrax—perhaps coincidentally, perhaps not—and they were
standing close enough to hear what she'd said. Even though she'd said it in
English, they had it on tape. When they played it back, they'd be sure to have
it translated—and they wouldn't like it one little bit.

I waited until
they'd jumped back on the strip and had been carried away before saying,
"You might want to be careful about remarks like that, Captain. The Tetrax
can be touchy. They never show it, but rumour has it that they hold grudges for
a long time."

"They'll help
us," she assured me. "Their friends on the satellite are very
interested in my cargo."

"The spoils of
Salamandra?" I said. "Why would they be interested in loot picked up
from the devastated homeworld

of some barbarian species from way along
the rim?"

Her eyes were pure
Medusa. "I'm asking the questions, Russell," she reminded me.
"You're wasting time. How do we get started chasing that android?"

"If you really
want to make a move," I said, "we should probably start at my place.
That's where he got the keys to my lock-up, and the truck. Perhaps he left a
note to apologise—maybe even to explain. At any rate, I'd like to find out
what else he stole. Also, I'm hungry—and I think your men might be hungry
too."

"I'll worry
about my men," she said. "They're soldiers. But you're right. If
that's where the trail starts, we should check it out. By the way, you were
lying to the peace-officers, weren't you? You don't have the least idea who
killed all those people."

"Actually,
I've got a pretty good idea who killed them," I said. "But yes, I was
lying—I can't believe that Amara Guur slaughtered seven of his own people. What
I can believe is that he'll be even madder when Jacinthe Siani tells him the
bad news about me than he was when he found out that someone else had started
gunning down his henchmen. It would be nice to think that the peace-officers
might take him in for questioning, although they're probably a bit too
scrupulous about matters of evidence to do it on my say-so. Shall we go?"

Her Medusa stare
was mingled with curiosity. She didn't know quite what to make of me. She
didn't seem to approve of me, but wasn't quite ready to say so—yet.

Crucero had taken
three men with him to the police station. It took twenty minutes for the
remaining four of us to get back to my place, but the interval passed without
any discernible assassination attempts. My room was locked, and showed no signs
of having been broken into, but I

opened the door very cautiously, just in
case there was anyone inside who shouldn't have been there. There was.

He was lying on my
bed, but he didn't get up to greet me. He couldn't, because he was very
obviously dead. It was Saul Lyndrach.

11

The peace-officers arrived in a matter of
minutes to conduct their investigation. The team was headed by the same Tetron
who'd spoken to us in the plaza, who obviously felt that Saul's murder was linked
to the others, although he didn't explain why. He was right, of course, but he
didn't seem to attach any particular significance to my confident assurance
that Amara Guur was definitely responsible.

At least my own
alibi was still cast iron.

It was a long
afternoon, but I was eventually allowed back into my apartment. The body had
been removed once the forensic team had completed their examination, and
someone had tidied up. The officer who'd interrogated us was kind enough to sum
up his preliminary findings.

Saul had died at
approximately eleven twenty that morning, while I was still secure in my cell.
Myrlin had logged out of lock five in my truck at eleven ninety-four. According
to the Tetron medical examiner, Saul must have been unconscious for several
Tetron units before he died. He'd lost a lot of blood. He had, apparently, been
tortured for some considerable time over a period of days. He had several
broken fingers and numerous electrical burns. Although he would have been able
to control the pain to some degree by virtue of his internal technology, it
would still have been an extremely unpleasant experience.

In the opinion of
the medical examiner, the person or persons who had inflicted Saul's injuries
had not been trying to kill him—in fact, he or they had been trying to keep him
alive. The process must have begun, he deduced, on the same day that Saul had
accepted responsibility for Myrlin the Homeless Android, probably within sixty
Tetron units.

Before lapsing into
unconsciousness for the last time, however, Saul—or someone with a very similar
voice, in possession of all the necessary identification codes—had used my
phone to make a series of purchases, including an outsized cold-suit and enough
supplies to stock my truck for a couple of hundred days. In so doing, he had
used up every last vestige of his—by which I mean Saul's—remaining credit. The
goods had been delivered to the lockup where my truck was kept.

In the course of
making these calls, Saul—or the person pretending to be him—had not requested
medical assistance, but he—or the person pretending to be him—had taken the
trouble to leave a message for me inscribed, in English, on the answerphone's
display screen.

Dear Mike,
it read,

We have
no idea where you are and can't ask your permission, but we need a truck badly
and we can't get to mine. After we're gone, though, mine is yours and you
should have no difficulty getting to it. It's a fair trade, I think—maybe a
little more than fair, to compensate for the inconvenience. All the best, Saul.

"Does that count as a will?" I asked
the peace-officer. "No," he told me. "It would not matter, in
any case. I shall be forced to impound the vehicle in question, on the grounds
that it may contain relevant evidence. Do you know where it is?"

"No," I said.
"Don't you?"

"Mr.
Lyndrach's personal records have been erased. We will doubtless locate it in
due course."

"As a matter
of interest," I said, "what kind of gun was used to shoot the other
seven victims?"

The Tetron
hesitated, but he must have known that it would be on the evening news.
"They were not shot to death," he admitted. "The immediate
causes of death were various, but they all had numerous broken bones, caused by
their being struck very powerfully with blunt instruments— or, in some
instances, hurled with considerable force into solid walls."

"Right,"
I said. "A very violent person, Amara Guur. Very violent indeed."

My room still seemed
very crowded after the Tetrax had gone, although Susarma Lear's men had waited
patiently outside until the coast was clear. Crucero and his companions had
returned to the fold some time ago. I hadn't heard the lieutenant make his
report, but I had no difficulty imagining its contents. The Tetrax did not
anticipate apprehending Myrlin any time soon. They could probably track his
progress by means of one of their communication satellites, if they could
identify his truck—although there were certain to be others making their way
over the surface that would make identification difficult—but they had no
intention of chasing him. They would wait until he returned to Skychain City
and arrest him then.

Susarma Lear wasn't
convinced, but she checked with me before taking any further action.
"Surely they'll change their minds now that he's wanted for murder?"
she said.