Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set

by Craig Martelle

  “Who…who are you?” Nat stammered.

  “You didn’t think to ask that before you started running? What are you afraid of?” Rivka asked as she gripped the woman’s arm and helped her up.

  Fear of being found out. Fear of losing her stature. Fear of the faceless and nameless entity she funneled information to. Fear that she was finished.

  Rivka almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

  “You wanted to be the number-one journalist on the planet, so you crawled into bed with evil. How did you expect that to turn out?” Rivka jerked the woman to get her attention. “Never mind. Just show us the switch, that thing you flipped to send supposedly secure information to the murderer. You do know what that makes you, don’t you?”

  Rivka’s face was inches from the journalist’s.

  The woman started sobbing uncontrollably. Rivka grabbed her by the ears and growled into her face. “Show us, or I swear I will punch my hand into your chest and rip out your beating heart! Where’s the switch?”

  It flashed into her mind—one simple toggle under her desk with a lead going into the drawer. The drawer was coded, but Rivka had seen the numbers.

  “Bring her,” the Magistrate ordered. Lindy twisted the woman’s arm behind her back and pushed. Supra Harpeth finally stepped up, showing a pair of stylish handcuffs. He secured her arms behind and guided her up the stairs. Lindy stayed far enough behind to prevent any runs for freedom. Red took his usual position and headed back up the stairs. He started to perspire. The heavier gravity was weighing them all down and probably contributed to their short tempers.

  Jay was holding Ankh’s hand as if she were leading a child. Her right hand remained free and on the hilt of the long knife at her side. A lump in the small of her back showed where she kept the pistol. Rivka could understand why someone would be intimidated by the Magistrate’s team. That couldn’t be helped, because they needed to be intimidating. They had to deal with the worst the galaxy had to offer.

  Nefas hadn’t been intimidated. He hadn’t cared. The worst criminals didn’t since they thought they were the biggest and the baddest.

  What will this switch tell you? Rivka asked.

  Where the signal goes next. The breadcrumbs.

  Follow the breadcrumbs, Rivka reiterated. Thanks, Ankh.

  When the group reached the journalist’s office, the door was locked. Red didn’t bother asking for the key. He hip-checked it, splitting the doorframe. The door swung inward, showing a desk with screens, bookshelves, and meager decorations. It was a working journalist’s office.

  Rivka walked around the desk and kneeled to look underneath.

  “Here,” she told Ankh. He bent down to look at it.

  “We need to get in there.” Ankh pointed at the lower desk drawer. “Unless you have one of the coins I gave you.”

  Rivka glared at Ankh briefly. They’d already covered that ground.

  She punched in the code, and the drawer opened. “It’s all yours.”

  He leaned down to study the electronics within.

  “How’d you do that?” Nat Ferider asked, her eyes puffy and red from crying.

  “Tell us more about your contact,” Rivka stated, wrapping her fingers around the journalist’s wrist.

  “You’re hurting me,” Nat complained.

  “You’re an accessory to a serial killer. In the Federation, that’s a capital crime. As a Magistrate, I can pass judgment right fucking now. Do you understand?”

  “But I didn’t do anything!” she groaned, and the tears started to flow afresh.

  “The information you received about the arriving Crenellian ambassador? That was him.” Rivka pointed to Ankh, two arms deep into the drawer. “I got shot for it. If I wasn’t special, I’d be dead. What do you want from me, forgiveness?”

  “Yes,” she muttered. Harpeth held her tightly to keep her from falling. “I’m innocent.”

  “Now you’re a liar in addition to an accessory to multiple murders and an attempted murder.” Rivka let go of her arm. She wasn’t getting anything new. The woman didn’t know who she was transmitting the information to. She suspected, but remained willfully ignorant. “You know the best thing about being me?” Rivka waited. “I don’t care about your plea. I know what’s in your mind. I’ve seen what you’ve done through your own eyes. You are as guilty as sin. You will be banished from this job since you can’t be trusted to report the news, having demonstrated a willingness to create the news instead. And because you have caused so many people physical pain, uncuff her.”

  Supra was confused but did as the Magistrate ordered.

  “Now give me your shirt.” Rivka snapped her fingers. “I said, give me your shirt. Because of you, my last one was ruined. Give me your shirt.”

  The woman did as ordered, standing there in just her bra, trying to cover herself with her hands.

  “Give me your hand.” Rivka held hers out, rock-steady. Nat Ferider put her hands behind her back and shook her head. “I said, give me your hand!”

  Rivka jabbed her in the stomach, and she instinctively brought her hands to the front. Rivka caught one and rammed it into the side of the desk, breaking three of the woman’s fingers. She screamed and howled.

  “Get out,” Rivka growled and pointed at the door.

  Nat looked like she wanted to say something but decided against it, cradling her injured digits over her fancy teal bra as she staggered from the office.

  “Is that how you do things?” Supra Harpeth asked.

  “She’ll never forget the consequences of her crime. I’ll file the report with your department, so you have it in case she runs afoul of the law again. I don’t think you’ll have any more problems with her, and isn’t that what punishment is supposed to be about?”

  “But you broke her fingers.” Harpeth pointed to the spot on the desk, reliving the meting out of Justice.

  “Yes, because her fingers threw the switch that sent intelligence to the killer. That intelligence was used to kill people. I could have executed her. Is that what you’d prefer?”

  “Of course not. That’s barbaric, just like physical punishment!” He stood as tall as he was able and looked down at her. Red bumped into him from behind.

  “You’ll not want to threaten the Magistrate,” he said in a low and dangerous voice.

  “Or what?”

  Rivka held her hand up to stop Red before he pummeled the supra.

  “You’re off the case,” Rivka said. She removed her datapad. “Chaz, log an order with Collum Gate that Nat Ferider is a convicted felon and that she is prohibited from holding a public interest position. Also, report to law enforcement that Supra Harpeth has been removed from this case by my order. Thanks, Chaz. Now you, get out.” She pointed at the door. He had to work his way around Red, who filled the empty space. Lindy locked eyes and glared at him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Once the door was shut, Rivka took off her jacket and put the shirt on. She tossed the jacket over her shoulder, holding it casually with one hand.

  “Now that we’ve alienated all the locals, what’s our next stop?” Rivka asked.

  Ankh stood up, holding the device, wires dangling from it.

  “Erasmus has found a number of addresses that we need to visit.”

  “How many?” Rivka groaned.

  “Only twelve.”

  “And I just fired the guy who could help us. I wonder if he’ll leave the driver.”

  “We should probably go,” Red suggested.

  “Ankh?”

  “Yes. We can go. I’ve shared the locations on your datapad. You’ll be able to see them on a map. We’ve calculated an optimal route to visit them as quickly as possible, although it would have been optimal to hit all twelve at once, just in case the killer is monitoring them.”

  Red opened the door and headed out.

  “We don’t have that option—unless we do. Lindy, can you run down Harpeth and tell him to wait? I want to talk to him.”

  �
�On my way, Magistrate.” Lindy squeezed Red’s butt before she accelerated across the floor and disappeared down the stairs.

  When the Magistrate reached the first landing, she found Lindy and Harpeth.

  “You didn’t make it very far,” Rivka quipped.

  “I want you to reconsider,” the supra said with his head bowed.

  “Done!” Rivka declared happily. She checked the area to make sure no one was listening. “I need you to coordinate a simultaneous raid on twelve different properties. And we need to hit them only as soon as humanly possible. I have the coordinates.”

  She showed him the map on her datapad.

  “Personal residences in different economic zones throughout the city. This is interesting. Each of them borders an alien district.”

  Jay had Ankh pulled tightly to her side, her arm wrapped protectively around him.

  “You have separate housing areas for aliens, even if they don’t need special accommodation?” Rivka asked.

  “It’s not like you’re trying to make it sound,” Harpeth replied, holding his hands up defensively. “They’re just different areas, same everything else.”

  “I’ve been told that this planet is a peaceful place, unused to violence. Now we have a shooting war because there are sides. The haves and have-nots. The tall versus the short. The wide versus the thin. The off-worlders and the Collum Gaters. I don’t wish anyone harm, but it looks like separate but equal hasn’t worked out.”

  “You can’t judge us on the actions of one person!”

  “Our thoughts become our attitudes become our words become our actions.” Rivka held his gaze. “The killer may be acting alone, but there is a disgusting amount of sympathy for what this individual is doing. Like that woman with a few broken fingers who helped create the conditions for murdering aliens.”

  Rivka stopped. The journalist’s office jumped into her mind. It had been low tech, except for what was hidden in the drawer.

  “Ankh, who programmed the servers to decrypt diplomatic communications? It sure as hell wasn’t Miss Prissy Pants.”

  “The signature within the code was H4rea78L. The code was sophisticated, on par with what we saw from the Mandolin Partnership. I don’t think it was her. It may not have been the shooter, but someone the killer hired.”

  “What are we going to find at these twelve houses?” Harpeth asked. Ankh looked up at the supra but didn’t answer.

  “What do we need to tell the officers to look for?” Rivka clarified.

  “The killer, of course. All of these homes are supposed to be vacant, but they all have significant energy signatures. They are occupied, and they were the places that received the signal when the switch was flipped. I put a tracking code in each of those places should they move the receiving equipment.”

  “You flipped the switch?”

  “Once Erasmus had control over the system, yes. We reduced the number of variables and planted a false message.”

  “We just foiled an attack. Would they raise their heads again so soon?” Rivka wondered. She didn’t think so.

  “I planted the message that the key ambassadors would be meeting at the Forum tonight.”

  “But they are meeting tonight!” Harpeth blurted.

  “There was nothing on the schedule and nothing in any of the servers that suggested this meeting. It was planted information.”

  “Yes, but they didn’t tell anyone about it! I knew, but they asked that we not provide security. I changed who would patrol the area, but that’s it. No one else knows besides the guvna.”

  Ankh’s nostrils flared while his facial expression remained neutral. “We better find the killer before tonight,” he said blandly.

  Rivka breathed heavily, almost snorting like a bull ready to charge. It had been ninety minutes, but finally, the law enforcement was in place to conduct the simultaneous raids. Harpeth held his communicator up and tipped his chin toward Rivka.

  “Don’t wait on me. Light this candle, and let’s go kick some ass.”

  “Go! Go! Go!” Supra Harpeth ordered.

  “If all twelve places are occupied, how will we know which one is the killer?”

  “All you have to do is detain the squatters. I’ll do the rest. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  The communicator crackled. The first takedown was over. One man in custody.

  “Driver,” Harpeth called, “take us to Nebula Court.”

  The hover-van lifted into the air and accelerated away. It whipped silently through the city, stopping first at the intersection since it didn’t have emergency lights.

  “Ankh?” Rivka asked.

  “Green lights from here to there, Magistrate,” Ankh said softly.

  Instantly the light changed. The van careened through traffic, maintaining speed until the final turn onto the target road. Two law enforcement vehicles were parked out front, lights flashing. A squat and heavy man was cuffed and seated on the front step.

  Red jumped out and held his hand back to keep anyone else from getting out until he’d visually scoured the area. He waved them out and stepped aside. His railgun was raised and tracing a figure eight through the air. Lindy climbed out last and added her railgun to his, covering an opposite sector, finger on the safety, ready to flip it off if she needed to engage.

  Rivka marched straight to the man in handcuffs.

  His lip twitched when he saw her approach, but he made no move to stand or speak.

  She took a seat next to him and put her hand on his shoulder before asking pleasantly, “What are you doing here?”

  Watching the alien sector. Fury!

  “Who do you report to?”

  “What?” the man retorted.

  Lost his job to alien technology that replaced the workers. Then lost his home. He was alone.

  Rivka stood. “Let him go,” she told the officers before turning back to him. “That alien technology you are so angry about is made by humans, just not here.”

  “How did you know?” he asked, standing and lifting his hands so he could be freed.

  “I’m the Magistrate. It’s my job to know things. Don’t be angry at aliens. They had nothing to do with you losing your job. That was your people right here on Collum Gate. When one door closes...”

  “I know, I know. A new one opens. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

  “Something like that. Being angry? That isn’t going to get you to a good place. Get yourself straight and get back to work. You’ll feel better for it.”

  “But where? There aren’t any jobs.”

  “I hear there’s an opening at the Collum Daily. I’m sorry, that’s not fair. Ankh?”

  The Crenellian looked up at her. “Yes?”

  “Job openings that he might be qualified for?”

  “This is how you wish to employ an R2D2 researcher?” Ankh asked evenly.

  “At this moment in time, that answer is yes.”

  Ankh turned to the man. “There is a new construction project opening not far from here. They are conducting interviews tomorrow. The response to their ad has been lackluster because the manual labor pool is limited. They’ve raised their starting rates to be more competitive.”

  “But I’m not the manual labor sort,” the man complained.

  Rivka twirled her finger in the air and pointed to the van. “Next!” she ordered.

  Harpeth checked his device. “Suspect in custody at Beau Nair Place.”

  Lindy snorted, and Red smirked. Jay made no comment. “Next stop, Beau Nair,” Rivka said slowly.

  The hover-van headed out. Once again, they had green lights the whole way. The driver smiled as he drove the leased van at breakneck speeds, something he would have never been able to do, even with lights flashing and in pursuit.

  Five suspects later, they were no closer to finding a perp. Rivka sat with her head hanging down.

  “We’re down to a one in six chance,” Jay suggested. “It’s better than where we started.”

  �
��A d6 instead of a d12? I’ll take those odds,” Red replied.

  “You don’t play that game, do you?”

  “Of course. Helps me stay on my toes, teaches me how to work in a team, problem-solving, and tactical and strategic thinking. It’s the whole mental training package. The question should be, Magistrate, why don’t you play?”

  “Who do you play with?”

  “Right now, the computer, but Lindy is almost ready to give it a shot. We can play in the red room. Get the whole crew on board.”

  “I’m pretty sure ‘almost ready’ is a stretch,” Lindy muttered.

  “When are we going to visit the Crenellians?” Ankh asked, his voice small.

  “As soon as we finish with these final six.” Rivka put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He flinched but settled back. No emotions washed over Rivka. No images jumped into her mind. His was the difference between a mind wracked with emotion and a disciplined, controlled mind.

  At the next stop, they found two suspects in custody. A man and a woman, both angry, snarling at their captors like wild dogs.

  “Red, Lindy, I may need your assistance with this pair.”

  She reached toward them in the way that earned her the nickname “Zombie.” They recoiled until Red and Lindy held them still. The pair snapped their teeth at the bodyguards. Red elbowed the man in the head. Lindy pulled back on the woman’s hair until she grunted in pain.

  “What are you doing here?” Rivka asked for the seventh time.

  The man gritted his teeth and glared.

  “He’s the one. Take them both in,” Rivka said in relief. In his mind, he’d seen her before—through the scope of his weapon, right before he pulled the trigger. “Where’s the rifle?”

  He tried to fight her the instant he realized that she was in his mind, but it was too late.

  “Floorboards in the attic. Dig it out and bring it. Tear the house apart looking for anything else. We have a knifing and a bombing to account for.”

  She was concerned that she hadn’t seen those crimes in his mind. Maybe the woman.

  Rivka grabbed her. “What was your role in the murders?”