Masters of the Galaxy

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Masters of the Galaxy Page 17

by Mike Resnick (ed)


  “It was a secret ceremony,” I said. “Her parents don’t like me.”

  “This is most irregular,” said the Molarian. “I shall have to summon my superior.”

  He went off to find his boss, and I leaned over and looked at the screen. Nothing on it made any sense. Then, on a hunch, I said “Translate into Terran”, and instantly everything became comprehensible… and disappointing. Heidi Rubinski was suffering from eplasia, a disfiguring disease for which there was no known cure. The hospital at New Warsaw was pretty basic, and they’d transferred her here when they heard that one of the surgeons on Odysseus had been researching the disease for a few years.

  “You are not allowed to read that screen!” said a harsh voice.

  I turned and found myself facing the Molarian nurse and his boss, a toothpick-thin scaly-skinned Ramorian female. “I just want some information.”

  “Are you related to the patient in question?”

  I resisted the urge to take a swing at both of them, and instead pulled out my ID card. “I’m a licensed detective, working in concert with the Homer police force,” I said. “A lingerie shop was robbed last night, and an eyewitness identified Heidi Rubinski. I’m checking on her whereabouts between sunset and midnight.”

  “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” snapped the Ramorian. “Heidi Rubinski cannot even stand on her own power, and has not been out of her room in more than two weeks.” Which was all I needed to know.

  “Thanks,” I said. “But if any sexy black undergarments turn up here, even on the nursing staff, I’ll be back.”

  I took the airlift down to the main floor, walked out of the building, and headed to the underground zoomway. It had replaced the ground-level monorail that had once connected Odysseus’s major cities together, and as long as there weren’t any earthquakes, it was fast, efficient, and safe. I always felt like I was going back into the womb when I rode the zoomway; it was dark and quiet, and I hardly felt the motion at all. There were six groups going to Ajax, maybe eight Men and ten aliens, and the six compartments we’d leased linked up, took off down the long straight tunnel, and came to a stop maybe half an hour later. I took an airlift up to the surface, caught a slidewalk that was heading to the heart of the city, and rode it until I got off at the police station. Then I walked up to the front desk and asked to see Elana Mador.

  “What’s your business with her?” asked the human sergeant who was manning the desk.

  “Private,” I said, flashing my ID.

  “You’re a long way from home, Detective Masters.”

  “With a little luck I’ll be home for dinner,” I said.

  He got the hint. “Second floor, fourth room on the right.”

  I followed his instructions, and a moment later was standing in front of Sergeant Elana Mador’s door. It scanned my retina, couldn’t match it, asked for my ID, scanned my detective’s license, and finally irised to let me through. Elana was a muscular-looking woman, nearing fifty. She didn’t bother to dye the gray out of her hair or surgically smooth out the jowls that were starting to appear. Her desk was neat, her uniform was neat, her walls and floor and chair were neat. The only rumpled thing in the office was me.

  “Good afternoon, Detective Masters,” she said.

  “Call me Jake,” I replied, walking further into the room. “I’m sorry to intrude on you, but I need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Have a seat,” she said, indicating a chair made of some alien hardwood. “I have nothing to hide. Well, nothing that you’d be asking about,” she added with an embarrassing attempt to be cute and coy.

  “You recently returned from New Warsaw,” I said. “May I ask why you were there?”

  “I had an uncle who lived there,” she said. “I was his only close relative. He died last month, and I had to go out there, arrange the funeral, and start putting his affairs in order. Why?”

  “I’m just verifying what I’d already been told,” I said.

  “And that’s all you want to know?” she said, frowning.

  “Two more questions,” I said. “Did you bring any New Warsaw currency back with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know it’s illegal?”

  “It’s not illegal to possess it, only to spend it,” she replied.

  “Then why bring it at all?”

  “I didn’t like the exchange rate on New Warsaw,” said Elana. “I’ll probably have to go back there in a few months to dispose of the last of his possessions—I was on a tight schedule last month, and I didn’t get everything done—so I thought I’d keep the money and take it back with me. Why pay to convert credits into drachmas, and then pay to convert drachmas back into credits a few days later?” She frowned. “Although as it happens, it’s a moot point.”

  “Could you explain that, please?” I said.

  “I lost the money a few days after I got back home.”

  “You lost it?” I said. “Gambling?”

  “I never gamble,” she replied heatedly. Then she seemed to calm down. “No, I misplaced it, I guess. My roommate and I turned the apartment upside down, but it wasn’t there. I’d say someone stole it, but let’s be honest—who the hell would pick a uniformed cop’s pocket?”

  “Do you know how much it was?”

  “Eight hundred drachmas,” she said. “Let me guess: it turned up in Homer.”

  I nodded my head. “Yes, it did.”

  “And you’re trying to trace it back.”

  “Right.”

  “You said you had two more questions,” she said suddenly. “What was the other?”

  “Where were you last night between sunset and midnight?”

  “Pulling a drunk out of the river,” she said. “And yes, I have witnesses.”

  “It took you that long?”

  “It took a couple of hours to pull him out and take him to the hospital. Then I came back here to dictate my report, and then I went home. Today is my roommate’s day off. You can check with her if you like.”

  “Well,” I said with a shrug, “as long as I’m here.”

  “I’ll let her know you’re coming. You doubtless have my address already.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then I think that concludes this interview,” she said, getting to her feet and extending a hand. “Good luck finding whoever or whatever it is that you’re looking for.”

  She had to be the least curious person I’d ever met. I thanked her, and took her extended hand. It was even more powerful than it looked.

  I left the police station and reached her apartment in five minutes. Her roommate, a mousy little woman named Violet (which they tell me is an Old Earth flower), let me in and showed me around. It wasn’t much of an apartment—a bedroom for each of them, a cozy parlor (but neat as a pin, just like the office), and a kitchen with room for a small table. The bathrooms each had a chemshower, but the sinks boasted real water. I looked around for a few minutes, but I knew it was useless. Elana was a cop; she knew how to toss a room. If she hadn’t found her money, it wasn’t there to be found.

  “Can I make you some coffee or tea, Mr. Masters?” asked Violet when I’d finished giving the place the once-over.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Coffee would be nice. It’s a long trip back to Homer.”

  “Oh, not that long,” she said from the kitchen. “I made it in less than 30 minutes on the zoomway yesterday.”

  “You were in Homer yesterday?”

  “My boss often sends me out of town on business,” she answered. “We’ve got branches in Homer, in Priam, in Helen…”

  “Did you get caught in the rain last night?” I had no idea if it had rained. I thought it might be interesting to see if she knew.

  “It must have been while I in transit,” she answered. “I didn’t get back until about an hour before midnight.” Then: “Oh. Elana asked me to tell you: she was home and in bed about forty minutes before midnight.”

  “Thank you, Violet.”

/>   She brought the coffee, and we made small talk for the next ten minutes. Well, she made it; I grunted occasionally to prove I was listening. She seemed pleasant enough. A little empty-headed perhaps, but hardly a hardened criminal. Still, the worst killer I ever ran across was a devout churchgoing mother of five, and I was running out of leads, so I figured it was now or never with her. “I wonder if you can help me, Violet,” I said, getting to my feet.

  “I’ll do my best,” she said.

  “I saw a present on the zoomway platform that I want to buy for my ladyfriend,” I said, trying to sound embarrassed. “I tried to buy it when I arrived here, but it costs fifteen credits and all I have with me is a 200-credit note. The guy told me he couldn’t break anything that big. Can you make change for me?”

  “Probably,” she said. “I’ll have to look and see.”

  She walked over to a drawer and pulled out a dainty little embroidered pouch, scarcely noticing that I was right behind her. She opened it to see if she had enough small bills, and that’s when I saw them—the rest of Elana’s New Warsaw drachmas. “Ah! Here are some twenties!” she exclaimed, pulling them out and turning to me. She jumped back when she found herself staring down the barrel of my burner. “I offer to do you a favor and you point a laser pistol at me and rob me?” she said severely. “What kind of man are you?”

  “The kind who wants to know what you did with the other 500 drachmas,” I said.

  She collapsed on a chair, if all the air had gone out of her. “I thought I could pass the money here, but no one in Ajax would take it, so I decided to see if I could get rid of it in Homer. I couldn’t pretend to find it in the apartment after all this time. Elana would know I’d taken it.” She stared at me the way a wild animal stares at a hunter. “Are you going to tell her?”

  “That all depends,” I said.

  “On what?”

  “On what you tell me. I don’t want to insult you, Violet, but unless you’re the best damned actress I’ve ever seen, you’re not smart enough to pull off what happened in Homer.”

  “You keep a civil tongue in your head!” she snapped.

  “Pay attention,” I said. “You’ve already committed at least two felonies, one by stealing the drachmas, and another by passing them to my partner.”

  “Masters!” she said suddenly. I thought she was going to slap herself on the forehead. “Now I remember where I saw that name. It was on the office door!”

  “Who told you to go there and hire my partner?” I asked.

  “I hire lots of people,” she shot back.

  “You don’t hire lots of beachballs, and you don’t pay lots of people with New Warsaw drachmas. Who told you to do it?”

  “You know, he did look like a beachball at that,” said Violet.

  “I’m running out of patience with you,” I said irritably. “Who told you to hire him?”

  “No one told me to hire him,” she said sullenly. “It was my own idea.”

  “Come on, Violet, you haven’t had an idea in years. Either you tell me, or I tell Elana who stole her money.”

  “No!” she yelled suddenly. “You can’t tell her!”

  “If she’s your friend, I hate to think of what you do to your enemies,” I said. “Now, I’m getting tired of asking you—who told you to hire Max?”

  “No one told me to hire your partner,” she said. “I was just told to hire a detective.”

  “And when you found out or guessed that he was new to the planet, you figured you could pass some of the drachmas off on him and keep what your boss had given you to pay him with?”

  She nodded. “He was a trusting little thing.” She glared at me. “Not like some people.”

  “Being a trusting little thing cost him his life,” I said.

  “He’s dead?” she repeated, and her shock was real.

  “He’s dead,” I said. “And that means along with being a thief, you’re also complicit in a murder.”

  “He’s really dead?”

  “He’s really dead.”

  “That’s it,” she said. “I’m not saying another word.”

  “Oh, you’re going to say one more thing, Violet,” I told her. “You’re going to say who told you to hire my partner, because if you don’t, I’m going to contact Elana before I leave this apartment and give her the privilege of arresting you.”

  “You can’t do that!” she said desperately. “She’s my only friend.”

  “The name, Violet.”

  She glared at me. If looks could kill, I’d have been dead meat. Finally she spoke. “James Bryson.”

  “And he’s in town?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think you’d better tell me where I can find him.”

  “You said I just had to tell you one thing,” she protested.

  “You think you’re the only one who lies?” I shot back. “Now, where is he?”

  She dummied up for a minute, we went through the whole rigamarole about my contacting Elana again, and finally she gave me an address.

  “Thank you, Violet,” I said, putting my burner away and walking to the door. “Don’t think of leaving town. You’re not bright enough to stay hidden.”

  “Promise you won’t tell Bryson I gave you his name!” she said, suddenly panic-stricken. “It’s the best job I ever had.”

  “I promise.”

  “Are you going to come back and arrest me?”

  “I don’t know. If things work out, the only thing you’ll have to do is pay Elana back her money.”

  “But then she’ll know I stole it!” she said plaintively. “Besides, half of it is gone.”

  I could have told her that she could buy some drachmas on the black market, but my partner was dead, at least in part because of her, and I was a little short on sympathy. I just walked out the door without another word, and headed to James Bryson’s office.

  The building was big. The office was big. And James Bryson fit both. He stood six or seven inches above six feet, he was broad-jawed and broad-shouldered and broad-hipped, a door of a man. If he didn’t have the most expensive tailor in Ajax, it’s only because a more expensive one had opened shop since breakfast. His hair was too thick and too perfect to have been his own, not when he was clearly closing in on sixty. He had piercing blue eyes, and he almost never blinked.

  “Come in, Mr. Masters, come in!” he said in a booming voice. “You said you had something of the utmost importance to discuss with me. What possible interest can a former police officer from Homer have in me?”

  “You know I used to be a cop?”

  He smiled, displaying a mouthful of perfect teeth. “I know almost as much about you as you do, Mr. Masters,” he said. “When you entered the building, our security system began checking you out. By the time you arrived on this floor, I knew that you were a private detective who used to work for the police, I knew your financial profile, I knew that you had visited a local cop named Elana Mador, and I knew you’ve been to her apartment.” Another smile. “But I don’t know what you drink.”

  “Just about anything that’s wet,” I said.

  He snapped his fingers, and a robot came out of somewhere carrying a pair of glasses. “Neboolian whiskey,” he announced. “I hope you like it, Jake.” Then: “Is it all right if I call you Jake?”

  “It’s my name,” I said, taking a glass from the robot. I took a sip. “Not bad.”

  “All right, Jake,” said Bryson. “Now we’ve met, we’ve had a drink, and we’re just Jake and Jim. What do you think you learned from that idiot?”

  “From Violet?” I said.

  “Have you had time to talk to any other idiots today?”

  “No,” I said. “But the day’s young yet.”

  “Before we go any farther, I want you to know I had nothing to do with your partner’s death,” said Bryson.

  “I’m sure you want me to know that,” I replied. “But I don’t know it yet.”

  “It’s the truth. But there’s a good cha
nce that I’m going to be responsible for Violet Ashwing’s, that I promise you.”

  “Let me ask you a question, Mr. Bryson,” I said.

  “Jim,” he corrected me.

  “Okay, Jim. Besides promising to kill people and denying that you kill people, what else do you do for a living?”

  “Pretty much the same thing as your friend Goriejyxsol.”

  “What do you know about George?” I said.

  “Is that what you call him?” asked Bryson.

  “I’m asking the questions.”

  “George considers himself a financier and an executive. I consider myself an entrepreneur. When all is said and done, they’re the same.”

  “You’re saying that he runs the Alien Quarter and you run Ajax.”

  “I run a part of Ajax,” said Bryson, smiling again. “I’m only a small-time criminal megalomaniac.”

  “Why did you have my partner killed?”

  “I already told you, Jake—I had nothing to do with it.”

  “You sent Violet to Homer, she hired my partner, and now he’s dead. Tell me how you had nothing to do with it.”

  “Violet works for me,” said Bryson. “She’s got the brains of a potted plant, but she’s reasonably harmless.”

  “She’s also a thief.”

  “We can’t all be perfect,” he said. “She knows I’ve got security holos on her every minute she’s in the building. I could care less if she steals from her girlfriend.”

  “I’m concerned with who give her orders, not who she steals from.”

  “I don’t just have employees and competitors, Jake,” he continued. “I’ve got a partner, and he’s a lot smarter than Violet. I haven’t been able to prove it, but I think he’s made a deal, or is trying to make a deal, with your friend George.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “The likeliest is that he turns over our Alien Quarter to George and his agents if George helps him dump me and take over my organization.” He paused while he finished off his drink. “He’s in Homer right now. I’ve got a tail on him—hell, three tails, one who’s obvious, and two he’ll never spot while he’s losing the first. But to play it safe, I wanted a tail on George too, just in case my partner lost all three of the men I put on him.”

 

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