In the Black

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In the Black Page 20

by Sheryl Nantus


  * * *

  “Excuse me?” Daniel glared at Trainer. “Did you just suggest I take Kowalski and leave? You’re his foreman, how can you even suggest something like that?”

  Trainer glanced from side to side, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. “All I’m saying is that if it’s expedient for the Service I’m willing to allow him to take the heat. You know he’ll be cleared in a few days or weeks, whenever the system figures out officially through their doctors what your Captain Keller picked up in a few minutes. Kowalski’ll get a free medical and a handful of drugs for his arthritis before they ship him home to his family, and his full pension.”

  He’d cornered Daniel in the security office while Huckness was breaking up a fight on the arrival dock.

  Daniel wouldn’t have put it past Trainer to have ordered the brawl through his connections so that he could get Daniel alone.

  Trainer leaned over the desk, glancing once at the monitors surrounding Daniel’s chair. “Hey, it works for all of us. Kowalski gets to leave early, you get a silver star on your sheet and the file’s closed.”

  “Except for a murderer running loose among your men.”

  Trainer held up a finger. “Or on the Belle. And frankly, once that Mercy ship cuts line she’s none of my concern.” He tilted his head to one side with a weary smile. “Marshal, men need to let off some steam at times. Wrong time, wrong place but it’s one of the risks these women take when they work for the Guild. I don’t think the killer will do anything else while he’s here and if he does we’ll catch him then.”

  “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice rose and he saw the panic on Trainer’s face.

  “I’m suggesting it. You get to go on vacation early and everyone gets what they want. It’s a win-win deal.” Trainer forced a smile. “Maybe you can get a freebie from one of the girls for your assistance? I’m sure the Guild would appreciate a fast resolution to this.”

  Daniel stood up slowly, more out of keeping his temper in check than weariness. “I am not for sale.”

  Trainer scowled. “Everyone’s for sale, Marshal. It’s just a matter of figuring out the price.” He glanced at the closed door. “I’m making a suggestion, that’s all. Whether you choose to go that route is your decision. But it’d be to everyone’s benefit to get this done as soon as possible.”

  Daniel ignored the urge to strangle the foreman. “I’ll take it under advisement.” His teeth hurt from clenching them so hard. “Now get the fuck away from me.”

  Trainer put his hands up and took a step back. “I’ll be in my office if you want to talk.” He headed for the door, his face wet with sweat. “No offense meant.”

  Daniel watched the foreman’s retreat, never taking his eyes off Trainer.

  As the door closed behind the worker, Daniel wondered why Kyle had been so insistent about him taking the case. Had he known Daniel couldn’t be bought off and thus rerouted him here to ensure justice was done? Or was he setting Daniel up for failure?

  Justice and politics had always gone hand in hand in the past. He’d run afoul of a few big players and pissed off more than a few powerful people inside the Service with his honesty.

  Kyle Harris was a damned good poker player.

  Daniel hoped he hadn’t just been dealt aces and eights.

  * * *

  Sam leaned back, resting her head on the thin cushion of her command chair.

  Do the routine the therapist taught you. Go through the steps and you’ll be just fine.

  Deep breaths, in and out. Find your calm center and go there.

  Damned therapist. Never moved from behind her damned desk, probably never fired a shot for her entire tour. Damned officer who never got her uniform dirty.

  Never killed anyone.

  No blood on her hands.

  In and out.

  “Sam?”

  In and out.

  “Yes, Belle?”

  “I’ve routed another bottle of water to your chair via the dumbwaiter. I thought you might need it.”

  Keeping her eyes closed, Sam reached for the small door. She’d almost forgotten the ship’s ability to send foodstuffs around to every part of the ship, including the cockpit. A safety feature in case of the galley being sealed off for some sort of contamination or if she couldn’t leave her seat for some reason.

  Or if the clients demanded something to eat as part of their visit. Couldn’t have people wandering the ship searching for whipped cream and strawberries, chocolate syrup and whatever else they desired and were willing to pay inflated prices for.

  In and out.

  Her fingers wrapped around the cool plastic. She popped the lid off and drew a deep, icy stream into her mouth.

  “Are you feeling better?” Belle asked. “You seem very stressed. Can I help in some way?”

  “No. Thank you for the water.” She felt the nausea begin to retreat. “Just having a bad day.”

  In and out.

  Fuck Grendel. She might have changed her uniform but she hadn’t signed away her soul to the Guild.

  She opened her eyes. “Belle, please ask the courtesans to come to a conference call. They don’t need to leave their cabins. It’s fine if they come via link.”

  “Coordinating. Stand by, please.” The cheerful voice felt like fingers on a chalkboard.

  “Oh and skip Bianca. I want her to rest and she doesn’t need to be in on this.” The last thing she needed was a hysterical woman on comms with the rest of the crew, adding to the tension.

  Sam wasn’t in any mood to do this but she owed them something. It’d also help deal with the gossip vine running through the ship. Odds were it was already humming with recent events and the last thing she needed was for one of them to panic and call Grendel, feeling that they couldn’t trust her to do the right thing.

  Better to face her demons head-on.

  At least these ones.

  Within a few minutes the monitors in front of her had all lit up showing Sean, Kendra, April and Dane. All the shots were from the shoulders up; she tried hard not to notice the amount of skin showing.

  “Captain.” Kendra was the first to speak, being the senior courtesan. The others murmured various greetings. “You called?”

  “I thought I’d bring you up to date on the investigation. Is this an especially bad time for anyone? Are we relatively secure?” She had visions of eager miners leaning in, dying to overhear some juicy details to take back to their buddies.

  April gave her a wide grin. “My client is presently tied up in the other room, so I have a few minutes to spare.” She glanced over her shoulder. “And gagged, as well. Can’t beat a man like that.”

  Sean coughed.

  Dane scowled.

  Sam managed a smile. “Thank you. Bianca is resting in her room right now so she won’t be joining us. She had an incident in the galley recently and she needs her rest.”

  “So we heard,” Kendra said.

  Sam didn’t bother asking. It was obvious by now there were no secrets on the Belle.

  Sean frowned. “Do you want me to check in on her? She came by about an hour ago and asked for some more painkillers, said she had an awful headache.”

  “No. And please don’t give her any more drugs. She seemed a bit off and sort of messed up.” Sam wasn’t sure how to describe it otherwise.

  “I only gave her what the Guild allows,” Sean said, a note of annoyance in his voice. “She’s entitled to it as per the rules.”

  “Understood.” She didn’t need Sean mad at her. “And you’ve been a great help to her and to the rest of us. But right now Bianca needs to rest. When she wakes up, Halley is still going to be gone and she’s going to have to deal with that at some point without resorting to drugs.”

  “Damned
drama queen,” Dane said, rolling his eyes. “Everyone’s got to tiptoe around her for the next couple of days. Great.”

  “Be nice,” Kendra snapped. “She just lost the love of her life. It’s understandable she’d be a bit fragile. Behave yourself and be gentle around her—watch what you say and do. That shouldn’t be difficult.” She looked at Sam. “Have we rescheduled her appointments?”

  Sam hadn’t even thought about that. “Uh, Belle? What’s Bianca’s appointment book like?”

  “She canceled all of her appointments upon Halley’s death. She has refused any attempts by clients to rebook,” the AI responded.

  Kendra’s disapproving glare reminded Sam of a schoolteacher ready to discipline a wayward child. “That’s not acceptable. The Guild won’t stand for that.”

  “You just said the poor girl’s grieving,” Sean said. “She needs time to get her act together. She can’t go prancing about when the body’s barely cold.”

  “She’s supposed to be a professional. And being a professional means being able to get the job done whether you’re feeling like it or not. Lock up your emotions and do the work, save the crying for when you’re off duty.” Kendra gave an angry shake of her head. “Grendel isn’t going to be happy when he sees the financial report from this stopover.”

  “Fuck Grendel.” April held up her middle finger. “He’s not here, we are, and we’ll handle our business our way. We can’t force her to work and the Guild’ll just have to live with that.” Her attention turned to Sam. “How is the investigation going?”

  Sam hesitated. If Daniel’s theory was true she had a killer on the screen right now, one of the four in front of her. But she had an obligation to the others to keep them updated on the situation.

  “The marshal has a few good leads. He’s optimistic we’ll have the killer soon enough. The investigation is making progress and it’s looking good.” It was as bland an answer as she could give.

  “That sounds like shit,” Dane said. “Typical UNS crap. He’d probably not even trying hard ’cause it’s a Mercy woman.” He turned his head to one side and spat. “Bastard figures his shit don’t stink and he’s not going to go the distance for a bunch of whores. I’ve met his kind before—if they’re not asking for a freebie they’re busting your balls for information to use against others.”

  “Marshal LeClair is a good man.” Sam kept her voice level. She wanted to reach into the screen and throttle the ex-boxer. “He’ll get the job done and find Halley’s killer.”

  “As he should,” Kendra added. “A dead woman is a dead woman, whether it’s a Mercy woman or one of the regular folk.” She nodded, her long blond hair caressing her shoulders. “I have a feeling he’ll do right by us.”

  “Says you,” Dane continued. “One of my customers says he’s already got a guy in the clink and is ready to drag his ass off base. Rumor is the marshal’s waiting to collect a big enough bribe from the union to let the guy walk and claim he can’t find nothing.” He scowled. “Wouldn’t want to mess with the base’s quota by taking one of their men out, don’t you know. Puts in the effort and walks away with a pocketful of cash and no one in jail.”

  The four courtesans stared at Sam.

  “I can tell you there’s a person of interest in custody and the investigation is ongoing.” Sam chose every word with care. “The marshal is not interested in anything other than justice—there’s nobody offering him a bribe. He wants to see Halley’s killer locked up as much as we do.” She cleared her throat. “I’m not comfortable giving you any more information, sorry. I wanted to let you know that I’m in constant communication with the marshal and the base security chief and I’m going to make sure her killer is caught.”

  Kendra nodded. “Understood, Captain. We appreciate the heads-up and have faith in the marshal to get his man.” She winked at Sam. “Or his woman, as the case may be.”

  Sam tried to look as calm as possible despite her heartbeat revving for a few seconds.

  “Thank you all for your help during this very trying time,” she mumbled. “I’ll be in the cockpit if anyone needs me. And Jenny’s resting after a rather traumatic event—please give her some quiet time as well and hold off on any maintenance requests. If it’s an emergency call me first, ’kay?”

  They all nodded and then the monitors went black, one by one.

  Sam rolled her shoulders forward, feeling the tension in her aching muscles. She needed a long, hot shower and she was a good six months away from that, if her bad luck held true. “Okay. Someone picked the token out of the garbage. Let’s start there.”

  “Captain?” Belle asked.

  Sam licked her lips. “When we arrived, the presentation—was that taped as usual?”

  “As with all of our visits. For you to review at your leisure, if you wish.”

  And for the Guild to criticize at their leisure. “Can you call it up, please?”

  The monitor to her left flickered once, then the image resolved to show a gritty black-and-white scene. There she was, strutting up to the platform in the black leather jumpsuit with those damned heels.

  Nearly tripping on the way to the podium.

  Almost swallowing the mike.

  The portfolios on rotation, blasting out at the enthusiastic miners.

  Halley on the big screen, smiling.

  She took another deep pull on the bottle.

  “Fast forward through the spiel. Get to the end where I give Kowalski the token and freeze there.”

  The virtual Sam bobbled and swayed before jumping off the stage and kissing the rookie, sped through the confrontation with Kowalski and slowed down as Sam sashayed toward the exit doors.

  “Stop.” Sam leaned in, her nose almost touching the screen. “Can we get any other angles on this? Another view? There’s got to be more cameras around the main hall than that one.”

  “Yes. And no.” Belle sounded almost apologetic. “Other cameras are for security purposes only and they are restricted. I only have access to the one camera in the main hall. The others are fed directly to the security office.” Her tone brightened. “I’m sure if you contacted Chief Huckness and the marshal—”

  “No.” Sam wasn’t going to explain human relations to the AI right now, or how there was no way in hell she was going to go back to the security office and Marshal LeClair. “Back up to me walking away from the miner and go at one-third speed.” Sam reached out and ran her finger along the monitor. The swarm of identical uniforms spread out across the screen, dull shades of grey. “Okay, here’s Kowalski. He’s walking this way and—” She paused. “He does something here. Stop.”

  She ran her fingernail across the fuzzy image standing still by a squat, cylindrical object. “That’s got to be when he dumps the token. Okay, start it up again.”

  Kowalski moved off and out of sight. The group flowed toward the doors, many of the miners chattering to each other or pointing up at the portfolio images still on the giant screens.

  “Damn it.” She could see the blurry figure stopping by the garbage can. A second later he moved away, making for one of the exit doors. “Can’t make him out. Any chance of zooming in?”

  Belle made something that, had she been human, would have been a snort. “Not with this picture quality.”

  Despite the situation Sam found herself smiling. Belle might be an AI but she came with a fully human attitude.

  “Run it again. Again. Again.” She tapped the screen. “He’s limping. Must be one of the walking wounded. Got himself bashed up on the job, which means he must have been to the base doctor to be placed on medical leave or at least receive basic treatment. That’ll cut down the suspect list quite a bit.”

  “Do you want me to contact the security chief?” Belle asked. “If I had access to the other feeds I might be able to locate a proper image of your suspect.” />
  Sam shook her head. “I’m sure he’s already given them to Daniel.” The last word came from between clenched teeth. “It’s the marshal’s job. I’m just freelancing here, doing my own thing. He should be doing the same.”

  A sound came from the closed hatch behind her, a metallic rapping.

  “It’s Sean,” Belle announced.

  “Did you call him?” She wasn’t in any mood to discuss her personal problems with Sean. It wouldn’t be professional.

  Not to mention the man was a possible suspect in Comet’s murder. The damned man could be adorable as all get-out but someone had taken that token without knowing Kowalski wasn’t going to go down for it.

  “No, I did not.” Belle sounded insulted. “You removed the ship from lockdown and all crew members have full access of the ship. He came up here on his own.”

  “Sorry.” Sam rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “I apologize.” Technically she didn’t have to; Belle didn’t have feelings to hurt. But good manners never went away.

  “Understandable. The current circumstances place you under great stress. Shall I let Sean in?”

  “Yes, please.” Sam turned to see Sean making his way through the unlocked hatch. “Belle, drop a text message to the marshal and give him the transcript of my recent analysis.”

  “You don’t want to call him yourself?” The computer voice held a trace of amusement.

  “I’m busy here.” She wasn’t up to explaining the warped logic behind her request. Belle was good but the computer experts hadn’t yet managed to program human emotions. “Just send the text, please.” Sam spun the chair around to face Sean, forcing a smile. “What can I do for you?”

  The dark-haired Irishman took hold of one of the straps and pulled himself closer. “I wanted to tell you Bianca’s happily snoring away in her quarters. I decided to check in on her after our little talk.” He paused. “We could have Belle pump some happy stuff into her air if you want to keep her quiet a bit longer.”

  It was tempting.

 

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