by P. S. Power
“How... unprofessional of them. Well... at least that's settled for now. Let's all have a seat and discuss things, shall we?”
The front drawing room turned out to be a space about twice the size of the apartment Gwen and Bethany were sharing, richly appointed in light-cream colors that indicated to Gwen it seldom saw use. You didn't live in a white or light-colored room, not if you wanted it to stay that way. So, Gwen realized, they were being treated as special guests, people to impress rather than someone to try and hide away.
“So... I imagine that this visit is in regards to the party invitations? I understand if you can't come, this must all seem very strange to you, after all, and you certainly don't owe us anything...”
Gwen smiled at her and held up her right hand just a bit, causing her to stop speaking.
“I wouldn't want to miss your birthday party. Beth... Miss Westmorland and I are planning on coming already, we just wanted to get with you, so, you know, we could plan out everything? I mean, I have to be honest with you, I've never been to a party in your world and only a few in my own, most of those as a kid. Things that Katherine would automatically know might be totally lost on me. If people expect Katherine and come talking to me, I probably won't be able to answer correctly, which may clue them in. We need some kind of cover story as to why I don't know things, I think. Maybe we can write it off as trauma from the attack? Do people know anything at all about that? What happened to me?”
Bethany looked away then, avoiding eye contact, so did Wiseman. The older woman, who looked a lot like Gwen's own reflection now, if a bit older, didn't avoid her, just nodded, a serious look in her eye, instead.
“Yes, it made the papers, all of them. “Heiress almost murdered” and all that. I'm a little surprised no newsmen have been haranguing you yet. We've been trying to protect you, claiming delicate health after those... events. That won't hold them back long I'm afraid.” She pursed her mouth slightly, not something she normally did it seemed, since there were no lines indicating it as a habit.
“We, Robert and I, had thought to tell everyone that the events of late had caused you to rethink your former ways and associations as an excuse to not invite those closest to you, to our daughter. Most of them wouldn't have made the list anyway, so it won't be too grave an insult to anyone. Is that alright with you? We don't want to force you into anything. Really, the fact that you're willing to even talk to either of us is... frankly amazing. I know you told us you didn't hold us personally to blame, but...”
Gwen shook her head at the older woman then, tossing her long dark brown waves a bit, which irritated since long hair had never been a style choice before.
“Not your fault at all, and we don't have to keep revisiting it. I know this is a pretty serious thing here, but I can't even really blame Katherine. Knowing she was about to be stabbed like that, not able to move, well, I can see how it might make a person panic and do something they normally wouldn't. Firsthand experience too, so... yeah. Let's not bother with the idea. I like you folks and don't want you to have any trouble.” Plus she'd gotten a really great body out of the deal. The thought was horrible maybe, but also true.
Mrs. Vernor looked down for nearly half a minute, her eyes misting over for some reason. Beth nodded and smiled, catching her eye. Good, so she hadn't said anything too bad or Beth would have at least shook her head to let her know. She hoped so anyway. Wiseman looked away pointedly, purposely not noticing the potential tears.
They decided that it should be put about that not only had she rethought her prior ways, but had decided to help those in need as well, hence her work with Bethany.
“Mrs. Vernor... I need something else to call you, at least if we're going to keep trying to hide this from people... I think we should also point out that Bethany's been helping me... since it's true and all. Plus the Westmorlands don't get a lot of good press here it seems. Also... what kind of party is it? I mean, dinner, dancing, that kind of thing? I don't really know the dining rules here yet, but I imagine they're at least a bit different than what I'm used to. Dancing is right out for me personally, never learned how... Besides, even if I did, your dances here would all be different. I doubt you do the electric-slide for instance?” Everyone looked at her funny, as if she'd said something in ancient Greek.
Mrs. Vernor filled them in on what the party entailed, dinner yes, though no to dancing, a live band would play, the music would be classical, so no one would probably dance at all, or if they did it would be highly limited, probably drunken, and a young girl wouldn't be expected to participate.
“For small talk... well, the weather, your association with Miss Westmorland and the Constabulary, your health will probably come up, as may the events... It would be rude of anyone to ask directly of course, so you can just dodge the question without seeming rude yourself. Of course there's always the “tell me what you think” gambit if you get really stuck.”
The older woman waited for her to ask what that might be.
“Let's say someone comes up and begins discussing a play that you haven't seen, but everyone else has. Instead of confessing yourself to be unfashionable, you simply ask them their opinion instead. Or to expand on it if they've already given it. You may end up listening to someone expounding for ten minutes on the grommet industry, but you won't have to admit ignorance of things that everyone is supposed to know. Though the grommet industry, any industry, will be a safe one for you, since Katherine wouldn't have known about it either. When in doubt smile and nod, and if you get caught out, confess that your recent ordeal has made you forgetful. Unless that would insult your sensibilities?”
Gwen chuckled.
“Nope, not a bit. I'll have to work on my accent I think. You all sound just slightly British to me, hard consonants and every vowel clearly enunciated. Hopefully I can put something together by the time of the party...” She'd practice with Beth later if the other woman could stand it. Maybe when they got home. It would beat going over her confrontation with her attacker in her mind over and over again, which was going to happen she knew. It always did. Her mind casting for something she could have done better, some sign that she should have seen telling her to move earlier.
The discussion turned to the events of the day. Bethany shared the situation earlier, uncovering Baron Mathews as one of the would-be killers, telling them this probably hadn't reached the papers yet, but likely would by the evening addition.
“Baron Mathews from the university? But... he's a splendid fellow! Are you certain it's really him?” Mrs. Vernor asked Bethany.
“Oh yes. I picked it up from his mind myself. Plus, he openly confessed to it to Gwen, in front of the chief and everything. There's no doubt at all.”
Picking up the thread, Gwen ran with it.
“I agree he seems like a nice man. I mean, he seemed nice to me, even as we discussed him having stabbed me in the chest. We probably could have been friends if not for that little thing...” Her voice sounded dry, even to herself, when she said it. Probably true though. Human sacrifice was just so hard to overlook when selecting new acquaintances.
“I almost felt bad when I started hitting him, but he teleported away before I could hit him with a chair. Katherine didn't work out much, exercise I mean, did she, Mrs. Vernor? I keep hitting people and they barely move at all...”
Bethany had to translate that for the other woman, telling her that teleport meant about the same thing as teletransport, possibly being just a shortened version of the word. Then smiling behind her hand she related the incident with the masher on the public transport.
“Oh my! You weren't hurt, were you dear?” Mrs. Vernor's eyes went wide as the tale concluded, with the man on the ground crying out in pain.
It felt important to let the older woman know she didn't go around getting into fights all the time, or at least tried not to, when Gwen realized that three fights inside three or four days might be a little bit excessive and hard to explain away. She wondered how women go
t by in this world without fighting regularly.
Then again, most of them didn't seem to hang out in the Constabulary detectives office or have to confront people that tried to kill them. Bethany had told her that in the normal course of things, the other men on the bus would have “corrected” the man that had slapped her on the rear. So, maybe things seemed a little more dangerous to her than they would for people that had grown up in this world. Anyone else would have known the man on the bus for what he was and probably would have let Wright, the suspect from the Constabulary offices, just run past. The whole being stabbed thing seemed pretty rare here too, the whole office spent a lot of time working on it at least, covering theft and vice the rest of the time. If television could be trusted those were separate divisions in most places in Gwen's world, which spoke of murder being a lot more common where she came from.
Mrs. Vernor, who asked Gwen to call her Mother, told her that she'd see to the party arrangements and make certain that everything went smoothly. All they had to do was show up.
Before they left, she asked them both if they'd be bringing dates or not.
“Ugh... Mrs. Vernor, I mean... Mother, I've only been here for a week. I don't even know what men around me aren't married yet. All of the detectives have been very good, so far, not approaching me for any non-work related matters or anything. But I wouldn't even know who to ask, then they'd have to say yes. I don't think I'll have anyone in two days, most likely. Bethany's been stuck in an analytical trance state for six months...”
Tilting her head a bit, Gwen cast a glance toward the female detective.
Bethany nodded in agreement. “We can try. It can't be that hard to find single men willing to bring us. If nothing else we can import them. I know some people.” Her grin looked wicked on the last bit to Gwen. Right, Beth probably did know a lot of single men... All Westmorlands.
Mrs. Vernor waved this away as not being a problem. She made small talk for a minute or two then asked Doctor Wiseman if he happened to be married. It was clearly a casual attempt at match making on her part. A good one too. The guy was a doctor and had a good job that almost anyone would respect. Not bad looking either.
“Oh, yes. Four years now. Martha and I met in college, she's in physical sciences, teaches second schoolers.”
Mrs. Vernor nodded at this, then excused herself, coming back a few moments later with a printed invitation asking the Wisemans to her party as well.
“I know it's short notice, but it would be wonderful to have you both. Please consider it.”
This made the doctor seem very happy, Gwen noticed as they left.
James brought the private lorrie around without needing to be asked, showing up almost exactly when they walked out the front door. He helped her and Bethany into the carriage section and stood by once again to help the doctor if he needed it, which he didn't.
That out of the way, Gwen felt they could safely get back to work on the case. Now that they knew where the altars might have been gotten from they just had to check on all the sales made from the most likely locations first, then the others if that didn't pan out. Easy. The idea tickled her a little bit when she stopped to think about it. Nothing in this place was really simple. Everything ran so slowly all the time and getting even simple information took days, when back home it would have already been in their possession most likely.
They dropped Wiseman back at the university and finally got back to the district house about eight in the evening. Everything seemed to move at a positively glacial pace in this world she noticed again. True, they'd identified one of the members of the group that did this, and got several leads, but to a person used to seeing everything resolved within the hour-long confines of a television show, the police work seemed almost non-existent here.
“Hey, Bethany... whose checking out Mathews known associates? I only ask, because it might be a good idea for you and I to go along to the interviews, so that you can check them out telepathically. Odds are at least some of these other people are going to be in his life somehow, right? He had to know them well enough to be willing to trust them not to blab about the sacrifices, and if this is really some kind of... god, I don't even have a word for it... misguided altruism? Whatever, some kind of attempt to help people, then chances are at least some of the other people in this aren't going to be traditional bad guys, just in it for the money or something like that.”
The Westmorland detective looked at her abstractly and asked her to place her in analytical mode for a moment. As they pulled up to the front of the building, she got the other woman to move back to her normal state, so that she could ask her what she'd been doing, before she could ask though, Bethany spoke.
“We need to get with Peals on this. Ordinarily only a cursory examination of those around such a high profile person would be done at all, I think in this case, a closer examination may be in order.”
Peals wasn't in his office, having gone home for the day at about five, Detective Chuan told them.
“Hey... Detective Chuan, not trying to be too forward, but are you married, or do you have someone... you know?” Gwen asked, tense, suddenly feeling like she was in the seventh grade again and about to have the boy across from her call her ugly and tell her that she should kill herself instead of asking normal people out.
Instead he smiled, a slightly enigmatic thing on him and told her that he was single, however technically he had a fiancée back home, though they'd only met once when they were children.
“Oh good, would you like to go to a party this Friday? With me I mean? I need a date, uh, it's kind of formal...”
He smiled and told her that sounded lovely.
Now they just had to get a date for Bethany and they'd both be set.
Chapter twelve
The next morning Gwen noticed that they didn't have any food in the house, Solicitor Grimes was apparently having more trouble finding people to provide services than expected, and while they could, given the cost of dining out and her allowance from the Vernors, afford to eat out for every meal, it seemed a bit of a hardship, especially when they got home late like they had the night before. In the morning, as they walked to work, she mentioned this to Bethany.
They decided to go out shopping if they could, or Bethany said, if she couldn't get away, Gwen could go without her. Given that she had both money and James to drive her this should be fine, the detective assured her. That didn't make Gwen feel any better about the idea, but getting out into the world had to happen sooner or later, so it might as well be today. Adapt or die, right? The idea didn't make her feel warm and fuzzy, but she could do it.
Gwen had an eerie feeling that Beth hadn't been telling her that the situation would be alright mentally for her, but rather that the social rules would allow her to have James take her shopping in public somehow. Not that it was a personal problem for them, since James was entirely proper all the time. Even if he didn't know that Gwen wasn't Katherine he'd never do anything that would let her look bad, she didn't think.
They found the Chief in his office, a cup – a huge earthenware mug really, with the words “Number One Father” on the outside and from the scent, coffee on the inside – clutched in his right hand. Gwen stood, listening to Bethany's presentation of the plan they'd come up with the night before, to check out Mathews' known associates using telepathic interview.
“I know that this is unusual, but given the death toll so far I think –” Bethany found herself interrupted by the man, his balding head shinning and face stern.
“Do it. We've lost enough people to these murderers. If we have to rub a few scholars the wrong way, then so be it. If they can't see that the need to catch the malefactors here outweighs their need to feel comfortable, it's their problem. We're sending you with backup though. Will Chuan and Wilbur do? Or do you want someone else?”
Bethany told him that both those detectives would do just fine, a small smile touching her lips as she considered the idea.
They plan
ned to go in the afternoon, Bethany spending the morning doing paperwork, leaving Gwen free to go out and get that shopping done on her own. Whee. James sat on the driver's bench reading a newspaper when she came out. She stood there for a moment smiling before he looked up.
“Oh! Sorry, Miss Vernor... didn't know you'd be back so soon. I know I'm not supposed to read while on duty, I just...”
She waved that away.
“Don't let it worry you. From now on, as far as I'm concerned, you should bring plenty of reading material and whatever else you might need while you're waiting. For that matter, let me know if you need money for anything and I'll provide it.” She wrinkled her nose and smiled up at him. “Within reason of course. I'm trying to not burn through money anymore. Still, if you need something to make your job easier, let me know, alright?”
