Eros at Zenith: Book 2 of Tales of the Velvet Comet

by Mike Resnick

  “I don't think I'm making myself clear,” she persisted.

  “Pagliacci is, by his own admission, a murderer. Possibly he's even deranged. You have no way of knowing that his story is true.”

  “First of all, he's not a murderer.”

  “Oh? What is he, then?”

  “In the strictest sense, I suppose he's a military executioner.”

  “What army does he work for, Mr. Crane?”

  “None that any court will ever recognize,” admitted Crane.

  “Then arrest him,” said the Dragon Lady.

  “I gave him my word.”

  “Why do you think you have to keep a promise to a murderer?” she continued. “You can't be counting on him to help you identify Bello; surely the man has a new face and a new identity after all these years.”

  “I know.”

  “And yet you're going to let him go free, just because you gave your word?” she demanded.

  “No,” he replied with the hint of a smile. “I never promised that I wouldn't arrest him, just that I'd team up with him to capture Bello. Once that's accomplished, our deal is over.”

  She looked surprised. “Then you never had any intention of letting him go!”

  “My job is capturing killers, not pointing them toward safe havens,” he replied. “Besides, he's our insurance policy.”

  “Insurance policy?” she repeated, puzzled.

  He nodded. “Bello might smell a trap and stay on Deluros, or he might slip right through our fingers before we can identify him. I can't go home empty-handed.” He paused. “Pagliacci's really not a threat to anyone aboard the Comet, your doubts notwithstanding—but he has told me everything I need to know; and the more I think about it, the more I feel that the safest place for him is in a detention cell.”

  “I thought you gave him your word,” she said sardonically.

  “I did. That's why you're going to arrest him.”

  “Have I mentioned before that you're a very interesting person, Mr. Crane?”

  “No—but I fully concur.” He reached his arms above his head and stretched. “Well, I might as well go back to the club and get Pagliacci.”

  “Shall I come along?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No reason to. You're sure as hell not going to arrest him there. It would probably be better if you waited right here.”

  “What about meeting you in Morales’ room?”

  “We could arrest him in Morales’ room, of course,” said Crane. “But it makes more sense to let him walk here on his own power rather than drag him back at gunpoint. There's less chance for a mishap that way.”

  “Why should he be willing to come to my office?”

  “Because he'll have no reason to be suspicious. After all, it'll give your career a hell of a boost if you can be in on the capture of Quintus Bello.”

  “You have no objection if I monitor the two of you when you're with Morales?”

  “None at all,” replied Crane. He got to his feet. “I think I'd better get going.”

  “I'll see you later.”

  He went down to the tramway entrance, took the tramcar to the Resort, and arrived at the nightclub just in time to see Pagliacci taking his bows. The comedian joined him a moment later.

  “Everything set?” he asked.

  Crane nodded. “We're ready to go.”

  “I got your message,” said Pagliacci. “What was the hold-up?”

  “A minor problem came up.” Crane smiled. “You've got two partners now.”

  Pagliacci stopped walking. “What do you mean?”

  “I had to let the Dragon Lady in on this.”

  “Why?” demanded Pagliacci.

  “Because we're going to need her help,” explained Crane. “We need a place to put Bello once we've got him. Until I know the ship is secure, I'm not going to chance walking him to the airlock. He could have a confederate aboard, or a patron might recognize him and try to play hero. Besides, she can monitor Morales’ room, so we're not going to be able to keep this thing a secret anyway.”

  “I don't like it.”

  “There's nothing to worry about,” Crane assured him. “It's in her own best interest to be in on the capture of Quintus Bello.”

  “And what about me?” asked Pagliacci.

  “I don't know what you mean.”

  “I get very nervous when you pretend to be stupid, Andy,” said Pagliacci. “What does she propose to do about me?”

  “I told her that we had an agreement.”

  “She'd damned well better honor it.”

  They took the tram to Morales’ room in silence. There was only one guard on duty, and Crane approached him.

  “We're here to see the prisoner,” he announced.

  “Please let us in.”

  “I'll have to clear it with the Dragon Lady,” replied the guard.

  “Make it fast,” said Pagliacci. “We're in a hurry.”

  The guard glared at him, then pulled out a communicator and quickly received permission to let them pass into the room.

  Morales, who had been laying on his bed, got to his feet when they entered.

  “You're the guy who interviewed me,” he said accusingly when he recognized Crane.

  “That's right.”

  “Are you about ready to tell me what's going on here?”

  “I had rather hoped you might tell me,” replied the detective.

  “Infante was my friend, damn it! I didn't kill him!”

  “I know that,” said Crane.

  “Then why have I been incarcerated here?” demanded Morales.

  “We're interested in another of your friends,” said the detective.

  “Who?”

  “Quintus Bello.”

  “I never heard of him.”

  “He's heard of you,” said Pagliacci easily.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” demanded Morales, jerking his head in Pagliacci's direction.

  “You want the truth?” asked Crane.

  “Of course.”

  “He's here to kill you if you don't cooperate with me,” said Crane casually. He nodded to Pagliacci, who withdrew his tiny handgun and pressed it up against Morales’ head while Crane filled the syringe, painstakingly found a vein, and injected the drug into it.

  Morales uttered a nonstop stream of curses for a moment, then suddenly slumped back, motionless.

  “I hope to hell you didn't kill him,” said the comedian, pocketing his gun and taking Morales’ pulse.

  “He's fine,” replied Crane. “I've used this stuff before. He'll open his eyes in another minute or two, and then we can go to work.”

  “You're sure he's okay?” asked Pagliacci as Morales began trembling violently.

  Before Crane could answer Morales sat up abruptly, blinking furiously.

  “Esteban, my name is Crane,” said the detective calmly. “Do you recognize me?”

  “I know you,” said Morales in a calm, conversational tone of voice.

  “And this is Pagliacci,” continued Crane. “You know him too, don't you?”

  “Sure. He's a comedian.”

  “That's right,” said Crane. “And of course you know that we're both your friends.”

  “Are you?” asked Morales innocently.

  “Absolutely. Would you like us to prove it?

  “That would be nice.”

  “Fine,” said Crane. “We'll be happy to. Is there any favor we can do for you?”

  “I'm very thirsty,” said Morales pleasantly. “I think I'd like a glass of water.”

  Crane nodded to Pagliacci, who went off to the bathroom to get one.

  “Thank you,” said Morales when the comedian returned.

  “Doing favors for friends gives us a good feeling,” said Crane. “Can we do another—a big one?”

  “If you'd like,” said Morales, sipping his water with a happy smile on his face.

  “We'd like to do this one for a mutual friend.”

  “O
h? Who?”

  “Quintus Bello.”

  Morales frowned. “I don't think you're supposed to know him.”

  “It's all right,” said Crane soothingly. “We're his friends. We want to help him.”

  Morales seemed to consider the statement. “All right,” he said after a few seconds.

  “He's in danger if he stays on Deluros VIII,” continued Crane. “His enemies are closing in on him. They'll capture him by tomorrow.”

  Morales began weeping. “That makes me very unhappy,” he explained between sobs.

  “That's why we want to help him,” said Crane.

  “We want to tell him that it's time to come up to the Velvet Comet.”

  “His ship's not here yet,” said Morales.

  “He can use ours,” said Crane.

  Morales smiled. “That's very nice of you.”

  “Well, we like to be nice to our friends. But we have a problem.”

  “What is it?” asked Morales. “Maybe I can help.”

  “We don't know how to get in touch with him and tell him that it's time to come. Can you tell us how to do that?”

  “No!” yelled Morales. “That's my job! Nobody else can tell him!”

  “Then maybe you'd better tell him right away,” said Crane smoothly. “After all, that's what friends are for.”

  Morales looked disturbed. “I don't know...” he mumbled.

  “You have to,” said Crane in soft, persuasive tones. “If you don't, he'll be captured by his enemies, and you know what they'll do to him.”

  “Kill him?”

  “That's right. And we can't let our friend be killed, can we?”

  “No.”

  “Then we'd better contact him right now.”

  “Just me,” said Morales stubbornly.

  “Just you,” said Crane quickly. “But you don't mind if we stay and visit for awhile, do you? After all, we're your friends.”

  Morales seemed to consider the suggestion. “I'm not sure,” he said at last.

  “But we insist,” said Crane firmly.

  Morales seemed to lose a struggle with himself.

  “Sure you can stay,” he said with a smile. “You're my friends.”

  Crane activated the computer.

  “It's all set for you,” he said. “Pagliacci and I will stand in the farthest corner of the room so that we can't overhear you.”

  “That seems fair,” agreed Morales pleasantly. He waited until the two men had walked to the corner, then turned to the computer and muttered something in a low whisper.

  “That's it?” asked Crane.

  Morales nodded happily. “Now we can visit.”

  “We'd love to,” said Crane. “But you look very sleepy.”

  “I do?”

  “Yes. Your eyelids are so heavy you can't keep them open.”

  Morales closed his eyes.

  “Lay back on the bed and get some sleep,” said Crane gently. “We'll come by and visit after you wake up.”

  Morales laid his head back on the pillow and muttered something unintelligible, and was sleeping peacefully a moment later.

  Crane approached the computer.

  “Cupid, who did he send that message to?”

  IT WAS SENT TO A DUMB TERMINAL AT A MESSAGE DROP.

  “Can you find out who rented it?”

  WORKING ... IT WAS RENTED BY SULIMAN HADIZ. I HAVE CHECKED HIS NAME AND ADDRESS AGAINST ALL DELUROS VIII DIRECTORIES, BUT CAN FIND NO LISTING.

  “Not exactly surprising,” commented Crane. “What was the text of the message?”

  QUOTE: LET HE WHO IS WITHOUT SIN CAST THE FIRST STONE.

  “Thanks. You can deactivate now.” He turned to Pagliacci. “A phony name, a phony address, and a coded message. Just about what you'd expect.”

  “Then let's wake him up and get him to tell us where we can find Bello's headquarters. The man is going to be leaving a lot of lieutenants behind.”

  Crane shook his head. “It won't work.”

  “Why not?” demanded Pagliacci.

  “Even with all that of niathol in him, he wouldn't let anyone else send the message. The man's been conditioned; he'll kill himself before he'll tell us where to find his headquarters.”

  “He thinks we're his friends.”

  “And even so, he wouldn't let us send a coded message to a dumb terminal. There's no way he's going to give us an address.”

  “What if you gave him a bigger dose of niathol?” asked Pagliacci.

  “Then there'll be two killers in this room instead of one,” said Crane with finality. He walked to the door. “Come on.”

  Pagliacci cast one last glance at the sleeping Morales, fell into step behind Crane.

  Lock it,” Crane ordered the guard when they were in the corridor. “Nobody comes or goes without my express orders.” He jerked a thumb toward Pagliacci. “That includes him.”

  “I take my orders from the Dragon Lady,” replied the guard. “Will she confirm this?”

  “She will,” said Crane, heading off to the elevator bank. “And when you talk to her, tell her we're on our way.”

  They took an elevator up to the Security level, then walked to the Dragon Lady's office.

  She was sitting at her desk, waiting for them.

  “I'm always impressed by what a little niathol can do,” she said by way of greeting.

  “It's an impressive drug,” agreed Pagliacci, flashing her a smile and pulling up a chair. “Maybe I ought to shoot a dose into my friend Andy here, and convince him that I'm really not a bad comedian.”

  She ignored his remark and turned to Crane. “How long do you think it will take Bello to get up here?”

  “No more than 72 hours,” replied Crane. “Possibly a lot less. After all, I did tell Morales that Bello was in immediate danger. For all I know, there were two or three different messages he could send, and this was the most urgent of them.”

  “That's not very likely,” interjected Pagliacci seriously. “An agent aboard the Comet isn't likely to be in a position to know whether or not Bello is in trouble. My guess is that he only had one message.”

  “Probably you're right,” agreed Crane. “All we can do is hope Bello takes the bait.”

  “The Resort's suites are totally booked for the next three weeks,” said the Dragon Lady, “so he'll most likely come up as a day-tripper, either on a shopping spree or a gambling binge.”

  “I just hope he'll make it easy on us and try to contact Morales,” said Pagliacci.

  Crane shook his head. “I doubt it,” he said dubiously. “The man hasn't stayed free all these years by being stupid. They've either got a pre-arranged meeting place somewhere in the Mall or the Resort, or else he'll simply go to where he thinks his ship is docked. About the only thing we can be sure of is that he'll be coming up on a shuttle flight: if he had access to a ship in one of the orbiting hangars, he wouldn't have to arrange an escape route through the Comet.” He paused. “Besides, they'd never give him clearance to take it just a few thousand miles to the Comet; there's already too much traffic congestion around Deluros VIII.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” said Pagliacci.

  “Go ahead,” replied Crane.

  “Since we're not sure when he's arriving, I think we'd better arrange for each of us to keep a pair of four-hour watches each day. It doesn't make sense for all three of us to be asleep at the same time.”

  “I agree,” said the Dragon Lady. “But I think we'll make it three four-hour watches.”

  “That comes to 36 hours,” said Pagliacci.

  “24,” she corrected him. “Twelve for Mr. Crane and twelve for myself.”

  “Maybe Andy didn't tell you that he and I have a deal.”

  “I know,” replied the Dragon Lady. “But you and I don't.”

  He looked amused. “You think you're going to arrest me?”

  “I know I am,” she replied calmly. “There are four security men waiting for you on the other side of that door.” />
  “Then I strongly suggest you tell them to go away,” said Pagliacci. “Nobody's arresting anybody.”

  “You think not?”

  “Not if you've got a brain in your head,” said the comedian. “I'm willing to take my chances in a court of law—but are you willing to have me state under oath that not only did the staff of the Comet hush up a murder, but that you also lured the Bloody Butcher of New Sumatra onto the premises without warning any of your patrons?”

  “Then we'll simply have to incarcerate you aboard the Comet until Bello has stood trial and been sentenced to jail.”

  He laughed. “How long will you keep me here—a year? Two years? Five? Do you really think what I have to say will be any less damaging then than now?”

  “Perhaps.”

  He shook his head. “For that matter, do you think this is the only whistle I can blow? The sole criterion for admittance to the Resort is money; what do you suppose your patrons would say if they knew how some of the people they're rubbing shoulders with make their money? There are five professional killers aboard this ship right now; I'm only a talented amateur.”

  He turned to Crane. “Maybe you'd better tell her that arresting me won't exactly be a boon to business, Andy.”

  “I know it won't,” said Crane. “We'll just have to live with it.”

  “Yeah?” grinned Pagliacci. “And just how long do you think Vainmill will live with their hotshot detective once they figure out how much business he's cost their showplace operation?”

  Crane and the Dragon Lady stared at each other.

  “What do you think, Mr. Crane?” she said at last.

  “He's right,” said Crane.

  “About your future?”

  “About my future, and about the Comet's.”

  She sighed in resignation. “I know.”

  “Well, that's settled,” said Pagliacci easily.

  “Everyone's allowed one mistake, and now you've made yours.” Suddenly his voice became ominous. “See to it that you don't make any more, or we may all regret it.” He got to his feet. “I assume that this is the real reason I was invited here, and that you've got nothing further to say to me?”

  “Right,” admitted Crane.

  “And I thought we were going to be such good friends, Andy,” he said with mock regret. He walked to the door, then turned to them. “Let me know when you've scheduled my two daily watches—and try not to have them conflict with the act.”