Odd Girl Out

  “I wasn’t leaving the planet,” I said. “My assistant and I checked into the Hanging Gardens and I came back here to pick up our luggage.”

  “In a very nice van,” Bhatami commented, running his eye over it. “A rental?”

  “No, I borrowed it from Mr. Veldrick,” I told him. There was no point in lying—they would have had the tag data before I’d even parked. “He had some equipment he needed to send out to the Tube. Since I was coming out here anyway, I volunteered to bring the crates along and put them into secure storage until the next torchferry run.”

  “You talked to Mr. Veldrick personally about all this?” Bhatami asked.

  “We discussed it earlier this evening, yes,” I said, choosing my words carefully.

  “It would have to have been earlier, wouldn’t it?” Bhatami’s gaze shifted to a point over my shoulder, “Isantra Golovek?” he invited.

  “That is the one,” a Filly voice came from behind me.

  I turned, squinting at the bright lights of the police cars still pointed in my direction. It was my old friend Comet Nose, striding toward me with a cop on either side of him. “Yes, it is definitely the one I saw,” Comet Nose continued. “It was he who murdered Mr. Veldrick.”

  “Thank you,” Bhatami said. “Frank Donaldson, you’re under arrest for the murder of Anton Charl Veldrick. Sergeant, take him to the station for booking.”

  “Wait a second,” I protested as one of the cops took my arm and started to pull me toward the assembled cars. “That’s it? An uncorroborated accusation from a single alien, and that’s it?”

  “Patience, Mr. Donaldson,” Bhatami said, eyeing me closely. “You’re acting as if you’ve already been convicted and sentenced.”

  “I’m acting as if I’m sitting in the middle of a massive setup,” I countered. “Those crates contain highly valuable equipment. Am I supposed to just trust that your men will resist the temptation of pilferage after I’ve been hauled off?”

  “No need,” Bhatami assured me. “Those crates are evidence in an ongoing investigation. As such, they’ll be returning to the station along with you and secured in the evidence room.” He cocked an eyebrow. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I can arrange for you to ride in the van along with them.”

  “And the rest will also be secured?” Comet Nose put in.

  “Yes, as soon as it’s been located,” Bhatami assured him.

  “The rest of what?” I asked.

  “The rest of the material you allegedly took from Mr. Veldrick’s house,” Bhatami said. “Isantra Golovek gave us a full description.”

  I frowned. What was he talking about? The pieces of coral they’d loaded aboard their cars?

  And then, suddenly, I understood. “Let me guess,” I said. “Several metal boxes the size of Quadrail lockboxes?”

  “What makes you say that?” Bhatami asked, eyeing me thoughtfully.

  “Because I’ve recently seen boxes like that,” I told him. “Only not at Mr. Veldrick’s house. They’re the property of someone else entirely.”

  “If so, the owner has nothing to worry about,” Bhatami assured me. “Assuming this person you name can prove title, the boxes will be promptly returned.”

  I sent a sour look at Comet Nose, noting again the subtle cues of Modhran control reflected in his long face. So that was the new game plan. The Modhri didn’t particularly care if the murder frame-up against me worked or not. In fact, he probably didn’t even care if Bhatami ultimately returned Rebekah’s boxes to her. All he wanted was the chance to get his coral outpost and her boxes all thrown in together in the police evidence room. “And where exactly am I alleged to have stashed these other boxes?” I asked.

  “Your assistant was alleged to have driven off with them in another car,” Bhatami said. “We’re looking for her now.”

  I looked around at the collection of cops loitering around us. There were eight of them, plus Bhatami and the two who’d been hiding in the spaceport building with him. “That’s a neat trick, considering most of your force seems to be right here,” I commented.

  “We’re a larger department than you seem to think, Mr. Donaldson,” Bhatami said. “And the group here will be back on patrol duty as soon as you and your cargo have been properly secured.” Stepping forward, he took my upper arm at the elbow. “Now, as you’d expressed interest in riding in the van with the crates—”

  “Lieutenant!” one of the cops at the edge of the pack cut in. “Car approaching along the south access road.”

  “Take him,” Bhatami ordered, shoving me toward one of the other cops. Drawing his gun, he stepped to the front of Veldrick’s van and pressed himself against it, his eyes on the approaching headlights.

  This was it—McMicking was finally making his move. I took a casual half step forward, easing a little in front of the cop who now had me in tow. As I did so, my cuffed hands brushed the key ring on his belt, a ring that included the key to my cuffs. If whatever McMicking had in mind was spectacular enough, I ought to be able to get my hands free while everyone else’s attention was distracted.

  The car was still approaching, running rather faster than seemed prudent. Was it a diversion, rigged with a tied-down steering wheel and braced accelerator? I glanced surreptitiously around the rest of the spaceport grounds, searching for a sign of the real attack.

  But instead of crashing into the parked police cars, the incoming car turned sharply to avoid them and braked to a halt directly behind my van. As it settled into the glare of the police cars’ headlights, I saw that it was Karim’s car.

  “Out of the car,” Bhatami shouted. “Keep your hands where we can see them.”

  “Don’t shoot,” a female voice called back. The two front doors opened.

  And Bayta and Rebekah stepped out into the light.

  I shot a look at Comet Nose. Even given his alien physiology, I had no trouble seeing the satisfaction on his face. For over a month he’d been searching for this girl, and now here she was, walking right into his arms.

  And because I was watching Comet Nose, I completely missed Bhatami’s own reaction. “Rebekah Beach?” he demanded, his voice sounding annoyed and stunned and relieved all at the same time.

  I switched my gaze to the lieutenant. He’d holstered his gun and was hurrying over to the car, his expression the same combination of annoyed and stunned and relieved that I’d heard in his voice. “Where in h—? Where have you been?”

  “Hello, Lieutenant Bhatami,” Rebekah said, her own voice quiet and subdued. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t begin to cover it,” Bhatami chided. Giving Bayta a quick, speculative look, he took Rebekah’s arm and led her away from the car toward our little group of cops. “The whole department’s been looking for you for the past month, ever since your sister left.”

  “I’ve been hiding,” Rebekah said simply. Her eyes brushed Comet Nose and me and then turned back to Bhatami. “There are people who want to hurt me.” She hesitated. “They hurt Lorelei, too. She’s . . .” Her voice faded away.

  A muscle in Bhatami’s cheek tightened briefly “Yes, I know,” he said gently. “The word came in from Earth yesterday afternoon. I’m very sorry.”

  “Thank you,” Rebekah said. “Can I please just leave, Lieutenant? All I want to do is leave.”

  Bhatami looked again at Bayta. “You have a place to go?”

  “We’re going to Earth,” Rebekah said. “Bayta and Mr. Donaldson have offered to take me to the Tube in their torchyacht.”

  “Impossible,” Comet Nose put in before Bhatami could answer. “Officer Bhatami, that is the car I saw, and those are the Humans. They helped him kill the Human Veldrick.”

  “You must be mistaken,” Bhatami said, his tone polite but firm. “Ms. Beach and her sister are well known in our community. There’s no way she would be involved in theft and murder.”

  “The evidence will make that decision,” Comet Nose said firmly. “I am a ranking citizen of the Fi
liaelian Assembly. You will accommodate my request.”

  “Maybe we can meet you halfway,” I suggested. It was about time I stirred up the mud a little. “Tell us what was stolen.”

  Every eye turned to me. “You will stay silent, murderer,” Comet Nose bit out.

  “No, really,” I said. “You say you saw Rebekah stealing Mr. Veldrick’s stuff. What exactly did you see her stealing?”

  “Metal boxes,” he said. “Twenty of them, shaped—”

  “Yes, we know it was in boxes,” I interrupted, looking sideways at Bhatami. But he was showing no signs of cutting me off, and his cop’s gaze was focused solely on Comet Nose. Apparently, having Rebekah tacitly vouch for me did more for my credibility with the locals than even my Hardin Security card did. “I want you to tell us what you think was in those boxes.”

  “How would I know?” Comet Nose protested.

  “Because Veldrick said you were business associates, which implies you must have spent a fair amount of time in his house,” I said. “Surely you have some idea what he owned that might be worth stealing.”

  Comet Nose looked at Bhatami. “Lieutenant, this is completely improper,” he protested.

  “It’s certainly irregular,” Bhatami said calmly “On the other hand, no one murders a man in order to make off with vacation souvenirs. If you can offer a list of Mr. Veldrick’s valuables, and if those same items are actually inside those boxes, it would go a long way toward validating your claim.”

  “I saw him shoot the Human Veldrick,” Comet Nose insisted, jabbing a finger at me.

  “So you’ve said,” Bhatami agreed. “And if you’re right, the investigators on the scene will find evidence of that. But that will take time.”

  Comet Nose’s face had gone suddenly very still. “And?” he prompted ominously.

  “And I’m not inclined to hold Ms. Beach without some kind of solid evidence that she’s involved in any of this,” Bhatami said. “Ms. Beach or her property.”

  Comet Nose’s eyes flicked to Rebekah, then to me, then finally back to Bhatami. He didn’t look nearly so self-satisfied now. “Very well,” he ground out. “The boxes contain Modhran coral.” He stabbed a finger at the van. “As do the so-named crates of equipment this Human carries.”

  “Really,” Bhatami said, his voice darkening as he looked at me. “I presume you realize that importation of alien coral and coral-like substances is a class-B felony on Confederation worlds.”

  “Yes, and I’m sure Mr. Veldrick knew that, too,” I agreed. “I can only assume that someone else must have given it to him. Someone from outside the Confederation, probably, who wasn’t familiar with all of our laws and import restrictions.”

  For a long minute Bhatami locked gazes with me. Then, stirring, he turned back to Rebekah. “Rebekah, will you tell me what’s in the boxes?”

  A slightly pained look flicked across Rebekah’s face. “Siris brandy,” she said.

  Bhatami blinked. “Brandy?”

  “Yes,” she said, looking even more pained. “Three hundred bottles of it.”

  He pursed his lips. “I’m afraid that’s way beyond personal use limits,” he said regretfully. “You need an exporter’s license to deal in that much alcohol.”

  “No problem,” I put in. “I have a license. We can take it out under my name.”

  Bhatami frowned at me. “I thought you worked security for Hardin Industries.”

  “My duties are flexible.”

  He gave me a long, speculative look, then turned back to Rebekah. “What’s the brandy for, Rebekah?”

  She lowered her gaze. “Mr. Karim gave it to me. I was hoping I could sell it for enough money to buy my Quadrail ticket to Earth.”

  Carefully, I suppressed a frown. A fine story, as far as it went. Certainly New Tigris’s home-grown alcoholic beverages had become popular among the galaxy’s rich and tipsy. Sold to the right dealer, three hundred bottles of Siris might well have brought in enough for a third-class Quadrail ticket.

  The only problem was that there was no reason why the Modhri would knock himself out this way, not to mention murder three people, just to get his hands on a stash of Human liquor.

  Which meant Rebekah was lying through her teeth.

  The Modhri knew it, too. “Ridiculous,” Comet Nose spat. “She carries Modhran coral. I insist you impound it as evidence.”

  “You can look for yourself,” Rebekah offered.

  Bhatami looked at Comet Nose. “Thank you, I will,” he said. “Perhaps you’d care to join us, Isantra Golovek?”

  Taking Rebekah’s arm again, Bhatami walked her back toward the rear of the car. With only a brief hesitation, Comet Nose followed. I got two steps of my own before the cop on guard-dog duty hauled me to a sharp halt. “Lieutenant?” I called.

  “Yes, bring him, too,” Bhatami ordered over his shoulder.

  The cop and I reached the rear of the car just as Rebekah popped open the trunk. I picked myself a spot where I had a view of the boxes and was also within quick-kick range of Comet Nose, just in case. “You have the keys?” Bhatami asked.

  Silently, Rebekah handed them over. Bhatami looked over the boxes a moment, then inserted the key into the rightmost box on the top layer.

  There was a teeth-aching screech of metal on metal. “They’re a little rusty,” Rebekah said apologetically. “Sorry.”

  “That’s all right.” With careful effort Bhatami managed to turn the key without breaking it, and with a final squeak the lock popped. Removing the key, he lifted the lid.

  There, glinting in the soft glow of the trunk light, were eighteen bottles of Siris brandy.

  No one spoke. For once, even the Modhri seemed to be at a loss for words. Silently, Bhatami closed the lid and relocked the box. Brushing past Comet Nose, he went to the other end of the trunk and inserted the key into the box one in from the left. With more of the same effort, and more of the metal-on-metal screeching, he got it open.

  Inside was another collection of brandy bottles. “Well?” Bhatami asked, looking at Comet Nose.

  “It is there,” Comet Nose insisted.

  “Yes, I can tell,” Bhatami said with only a touch of sarcasm. Closing and sealing the box, he moved the middle box of the top layer aside and opened the box directly beneath it. Still more brandy. “Thank you, Rebekah,” he said, closing and sealing the box and replacing the one he’d moved. “Were you wanting to leave right now?”

  “Yes, as soon as I can,” Rebekah said. “What about Mr. Donaldson?”

  “I’m afraid Mr. Donaldson will have to stay with us for a little longer,” Bhatami said. “But you and Bayta can go ahead and load your things aboard her torchyacht if you’d like.”

  “No!” Comet Nose barked. All the work he’d gone to in order to get his coral and Rebekah’s boxes together, and now here they were about to slip out of his grasp. “I protest! You must not allow her to leave.”

  “Hussin, go get a cart from the port building, will you?” Bhatami ordered one of the cops, ignoring the Filly’s outburst.

  The cop nodded and headed for the building. He might as well not have bothered. The Customs official had been standing by the open door, clearly eavesdropping on the unfolding drama, and as Officer Hussin detached himself from the group of cops, the younger man ducked back inside and snared one of the three transport carts lined up against the wall. He met Hussin halfway to our group, and as they moved the cart together toward the car I could swear they were actually vying with each other as to which of them was doing the better job. Everyone on New Tigris, apparently, was Rebekah’s friend.

  Almost everyone, anyway. “Officer Bhatami, I protest,” Comet Nose said again as the two men maneuvered the cart to the rear of the car and started loading the boxes onto it. He was right in Bhatami’s face now, his voice rising in pitch and increasing in volume. “I intend to lodge a formal complaint with the Filiaelian Assembly—”

  And then, one of the cops standing near the front of the van gave a l
ittle choke and collapsed onto the ground.

  THIRTEEN

  “Incoming!” I barked as the cop next to him also dropped into a heap. The other cops were already on it, snatching out their own guns, their heads jerking back and forth as they searched for the shooter. Beside me, Comet Nose slammed the back of one hand across Bhatami’s face as he made a grab for the lieutenant’s holstered gun with the other.

  Bhatami got there first, and for a second the two of them struggled for the weapon before my double kick into the Filly’s knee and low ribs sent him sprawling to the pavement. “Get out of here!” I snapped at the Customs official, crouched frozen at the rear of the car, his eyes wide. “Get them inside.”

  The official shifted his goggle eyes toward me as a barrage of gunfire erupted from the remaining cops, concentrated on the two autocabs in the shelter fifty meters ahead of us. “I said move!” I ordered again.

  “You heard him,” Bayta urged, taking the Customs man’s arm. The kwi, I saw, was already in place on her other hand.

  “Come on, Mr. Elfol,” Rebekah said encouragingly, getting a grip on the cart’s bar. “I’ll help you push.”

  The man seemed to snap out of his stunned trance. “Okay,” he managed. With Rebekah beside him, he shoved off from the car, pushing for all he was worth.

  “Wait a second,” I called as Bayta started to follow. “Where’s Karim?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “He said he was going to go find a flanking position. He hadn’t returned when Rebekah said we needed to come stop them from arresting you.”

  I swore under my breath. If I’d known Rebekah was going to go all noble that way, I would never have left my phone on for them to listen to.

  On the other hand, if she hadn’t insisted on coming to my rescue, all the cops would probably have left when they arrested me, leaving her, Bayta, and Karim to face the Filly shooter alone. “Just get her into the ship and seal up,” I told Bayta. “They’ll need something stronger than handguns to get through a torchyacht hull.”