Winning the argument that there was no earthly reason why she now shouldn’t return to her flat, hadn’t been the source of satisfaction Sila had hoped it would be. In fact, the only sensation she strongly felt other than anger, was of being cheated on a cosmic scale. Yes, Orlan was being put forward for trial, and though he’d not confessed, the evidence was building up. But without that confession, or something more decisive, she had the nagging sense that they were missing something—and it denied her a proper end to the matter which, at least, for all its other agonies, the business over Thur had offered.
She slept badly, and knew she wasn’t handling things well. When she got to work, she brushed aside Kev’s carefully non-intrusive concern and went to Inspector Solmano’s office immediately. He listened to her request for leave, asked how she was feeling physically and did she want any help over the attack, and then granted her the time off without a quibble. She thanked him, and turned to leave.
“Sila, you should consider seeing one of the counsellors. Standard procedure for any assault victim, you know.”
“Yes, sir, I will. At the moment, I doubt it would help.”
He nodded in acknowledgement. “There’s that too. Try and get away from the city for a bit. I know Milno’s a bit far to go for a week or so, but it’s the off-season. You might find a cheap apartment to rent up on the coast.”
“I’ll consider it, sir. I’m sorry to dump this on you.”
He smiled kindly. “My dear inspector, you’ve worked under Chief Inspector Kezime and me for all this time and you’ve not learned his one unbreakable rule. No one’s indispensable. I don’t run my department so that it falls apart if a single officer has a personal crisis. Just go, forget about here for a couple of weeks, and come back when you can concentrate.”
“Thank you, sir.” And she meant it. Not all bosses were so humane, but Solmano was cut from the same cloth as Ria in that way.
She had a few things to quickly tidy away on her desk. Kev came over, and watched her at it. “You haven’t gone and resigned or something, have you?”
“No.” She realised what it had to look like to him, and took pity on him. “I just...can’t think clearly, and the boss is right. I need a break.”
“Yes, you do. Are you going to go away? You can’t just sit in your apartment.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said irritably. “Damn it, you’ve been nagging me to slow down, don’t try and tell me what I have to do when I decide I’m going to take a break after all.”
He held up his hand. “Sorry.” He pulled out one of his official contact cards from his wallet, and wrote a number on the back. “That’s my personal com. You probably won’t accept, but if you’d like to come for a meal, or spend some time with me and the boys for a change, you’re welcome. It’s not much, but it’s different.”
She accepted the card, and smiled at him. “Thank you. I might just do that. I’m sorry I’m such a grump, Kev. I just...this is....” She stopped and bit her lip. How to tell him why this hurt so much?
He leaned down and put his hand on her shoulder, just a light touch. “One day, you can explain. I don’t need to know now. I just want you to look after yourself.”
“Thanks. And I will call, honest.”
He straightened up. “You do that. I’ll leave you to it.”
She was even more grateful for him trusting her to know her own mind on this. She’d been a real bitch to people who cared about her in the last few days. Maybe she should spend more time thinking about them, and a lot less time thinking about Orlan bloody Gomici.
But Orlan bloody Gomici and his crimes wouldn’t let her go. When she got in the taxi, fully prepared to order it to take her back to her building, she was slightly surprised to find that the actual instruction that emerged from her mouth told the driver to go to the South 25 station.
Javin was just as surprised to see her. “I was just going to call you. How are you doing? You look ragged.”
“I feel it,” she said with a sigh. “I’m taking some time off. I just thought I’d come down and see if there were any developments. For Ria’s sake, I mean,” she lied.
“Oh. Well, I was just going putting together the committal report. In fact, I’m on my way down to forensics. Want to tag along?”
She did, and they headed down to the basement. South 25 station was one of the larger ones, with its own forensics department and a fully equipped medical examiner’s office which did many of the autopsies for the smaller stations, as well as some independent pathology work for the government. The basement level in fact spread under several buildings, and took up nearly as much room below the station as the station itself did above ground.
“Oh, hello, Sila. Didn’t ever expect to see you around here again,” Navik Hain said cheerfully as they came into her lab. “The bruising is developing nicely, I see.” Sila gave her a dirty look. Of course, Navik would have seen the vids taken after the attack, but it was tactless of her. “Javin, you’re here for the Gomici file?”
“Yes. You’ve finished the work on that material we located yesterday? Anything conclusive?”
“Well, yes and no,” she said, beckoning them to have a seat. “The gloves weren’t used in the attack on Sila or anyone else. They’re brand new and I don’t think they’ve ever even been worn.”
“What?” Sila said, startled by that. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Come and have a look.” She pulled up a series of images on the com. “These are the stitches on the palm, and that’s a close up of the leather on the back of the glove. Now, if you’re wearing leather gloves, even good ones like these, and you do something like trying to garrotte someone, you’ll put a lot of stress across the knuckles.” She demonstrated by making a fist and showing where the stretching would be. “And also the palm, gripping the object, will be pulled. You get microscopic tearing at the stitching even if it’s only used once. There’s none of that, no sign of stretch on the back or anywhere. If someone ever put these on, they wore surgical gloves on the inside at the very least, and they must have had a hand small enough not to put any stress on any of the stitches. They couldn’t have done any kind of work with them.”
“Surgical gloves?” Javin asked.
“No epithelials. No hairs, nothing. Completely clean on the inside.”
“And the garrotte? Any prints?”
“No prints, but it’s been used for something. We’ve got signs of microwear, but whether it was used on a person or a lamp post, I can’t tell you because there are no traces of animal protein anywhere on it.”
Sila frowned. “There were prints on the bag, but none on the weapon. Javin, why would he wipe the garrotte clean and not clean the bag or use gloves?”
“He forgot?”
“Not this guy, not if it’s Gomici. Navik, what about the bag? What did you find on it?”
“Oh, lots of stuff—animal protein, other smudged partial prints. It was pretty dirty. I’m still analysing it.”
Sila looked at Javin. “It’s a plant.”
“But who planted it? We know Gomici was in the apartment. He’s admitted that. Ridiere’s story holds up.”
“I don’t know who or why, but I’ll bet you a hundred riols that bag was pulled from Gomici’s trash, the gloves and weapon stored there, and planted.”
He pursed his lips. “It’s a bit of a stretch.”
“We’ve seen bigger stretches. We need to know more about that woman, and the rest of the people in the building. And the manager. Everyone.”
Navik raised an eyebrow. “You working on this case now, Sila?”
“I guess I am,” she said, which made Javin also lift an eyebrow. “Jav, someone tried to kill me. If Gomici didn’t do it, the killer is still walking free, which means I’m in trouble. I need to know who did it.”
“I know, but this is pretty irregular. Sezil won’t be happy.”
“I don’t have to work on it officially. I’m just making suggestions.”
“Suggestions. Right,” he said dryly. “I’ll need to tell Sezil about this. I can’t honestly recommend moving to committal with this new information, though Sezil might still push for it. That means we can only keep Gomici in custody until Leaven day, but I still think he did it.”
“Then find the evidence. He can be bailed. We can still keep an eye on him. But we need to know who could have planted that bag. Jav, I need to speak to him. You want to be there, or Hatir?”
“Me. Hatir’s got flu.”
“What, again?”
“Yes, I know. She’s in a family with small children. Dirty little buggers.”
Sila grinned. “And yours is not?”
“I hose him down every morning. I expect the fun to start when he goes to school. Shall we go see Gomici?”
Orlan was pathetically glad to see her. Even angry as she was with him, a small part of her felt a twinge of pity. She suppressed any sign of it, and put on a stern expression.
“Right, now you need to tell me the truth, Orlan.”
“Truth, my darling? I’ve been telling you the truth.” He looked at Javin. “What’s she talking about?”
Javin was playing stone face. “Inspector Poucilne’s conducting this interview.”
Thank you, Javin. “Tell me about Jini Quelem. Did you ever fuck him?”
“Only the once.”
She stared at him incredulously. “What? Why didn’t you mention that?”
He seemed surprised. “Well, I didn’t know it was Jini. We met in a bar, and, um...well, it was brief and fun and...we didn’t exchange names. Two weeks later, I found out who my office neighbour was and we had a good laugh about it. But that was all it was.”
She shook her head, astonished at such idiocy in a clever man. “All right. Did you have a relationship other than sexual with the other victims? Business? Tell me everything, Orlan, or by the Goddess, I’ll let you swing in the breeze.”
“No, honestly. Just sex, and company.” He stared at her earnestly. “Please don’t hate me, darling.”
“Stop calling me that. I’m not your damn darling. Larei Eszer, you just fucked her?”
He sighed. “Must you put it so crudely?”
“You had sex on your office desk. How would you describe it?”
“Fun, Sila. That’s how I’d describe it. Larei was a sweet, fun-loving girl. A couple of times, she allowed me to amuse her. I don’t ‘fuck’ people. I make love, however briefly.”
His chiding washed straight off her back. “Poetic crap. Rosil Kimir—she was a businesswoman. Did you have business dealings with her?”
He was puzzled again by her change of tack. “No. I mean, we talked sometimes, over coffee. She liked horses, and so do I. That was what we talked about. Just tell me what you want to know.”
“I want to know if anyone has a grudge against you, for any reason. Jealous husbands? Wives? Former lovers? Tell me the name of every single person who’s even looked at you funny. And tell me everything. You’ve got one chance to beat this,” she said, lying through her teeth, “and I’m it. So don’t lie to me, Gomici, or you’ll wish you’d never been born.”
~~~~~~~~
Ria was in the middle of a tense discussion when he heard the gentle chime of his office com announcing a call on his private line. He had to wait until he was alone again before he could return the call. To his surprise it was Sila, but when he heard what she had to say, he understood why she had deemed it appropriate to call that number.
“Surely he can be released now? Sezil can’t believe he’s got enough evidence to commit for trial.”
“No, but he’s sure he’s got enough to request an extension to custody.”
“What? Damn him, Sila. He has no case at all. What about the gloves?”
Her expression was grave. “He says it could be a double bluff, Ria. It could be. Orlan’s smart enough.”
“Yes, but, honestly, this is ridiculous. I’m going to call him.”
“If he’s let out, the killings might start again.”
“No, that doesn’t wash with me this time. I’m not doing that to someone again. I learned my lesson with Jerna. We get him out, and we keep him somewhere out of sight. No one needs to know he’s been released. I’m going to call Sezil.”
But first, he had to call his father. It was time for the big guns.
~~~~~~~~
Ria couldn’t get to the station before nightfall, and had to go by the apartment to change first, but the delay was no bad thing, considering. He wanted this sorted out before the weekend. He’d made promises to Juli and the children, and he wasn’t going to let them down, not even for Orlan, but everything would have to be done with military precision. Sila had been active in arranging things, and all Ria had to do was deliver the parcel to the destination—and make damn sure the parcel knew that his continued freedom and the safety of other possible victims depended on his co-operation.
Sila was waiting in the station for him, and had a small case which he’d instructed her to get from the apartment earlier in the day. “Got everything?” Ria asked.
“I think so. Good job you and he are the same size, more or less.”
He couldn’t resist. “I’m bigger where it counts.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, spare me. Jerna might care. I don’t. Your father’s vehicle?”
“Waiting for my call. Let’s be having him, then.”
Inspector Sezil met them, and clearly wasn’t happy. “Sir, the recommended way of dealing with this situation is to keep the suspect in custody.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that, Sezil. I’m also aware that if I got a lawyer onto this, Orlan could just walk out, and you’d have no control over this. He’s agreed to this voluntarily, and he’ll be as safe as if he was right here in the station house. He won’t be in the city, so if you do get any more murders, you’ll know it’s not him.”
“Yes, sir. And how long do you propose to keep the man in hiding?”
“You tell me. I want him cleared. I want the murderer caught. Last time I looked, that was your job.”
“A job you’re interfering with, sir.”
He’d been impressed by Sezil over the business with Jerna, and had always liked his strong, independent mind. But right now, that independence was a perfect pain in the arse, and Ria, anticipating hours of travelling and a not entirely welcome need for him to be in debt to his father, wasn’t in a charitable mood.
“Look, Sezil, last time you locked up a friend of mine, he was a nobody. The only people who cared were his family and me. Orlan’s family are as prominent as mine, and he’s married to Contanzi nobility. Do you really want that to explode all over you? I’m doing you a favour, so drop the hostility. You play your part, do your job, and I’ll keep him out of trouble.”
“Yes, sir,” Sezil said stiffly. “But I don’t like it.”
“Point noted. Shall we?”
Orlan pulled away from his guards as he saw Ria and rushed to take his hand. “My dear boy, you have my undying gratitude. And you, Sila.”
Her glare could have cut through casehardened steel. “Don’t look at me, Gomici. I agree with Inspector Sezil. You should still be in the cells.”
He gave her a hurt look. “I’m not your enemy, my darling.”
She turned away, not facing him as she said, “You’re not my friend either. Sir, are you ready to leave now?”
“Yes.” Ria gave Orlan a critical once over, noting that the borrowed clothes weren’t too bad a fit at all, and then pulled out a scarf from his coat pocket. “Put that on. Don’t make it look like you’re hiding your face, but try not to show too much anyway.”
“Am I to wear your clothes the entire time?”
“Yes, you’ll have to. And don’t make any attempt to get your stuff, or contact anyone but Sila or me, or this deal is off. I’ll let Sezil do what he wants with you, and if he can convince a magistrate you need to be back in custody, that’s where you’ll be.”
Orlan’s eyes widened. “Why does everyone think I’m so dangerous? I wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
“Only because you can’t garrotte it,” Sila snapped.
“That’s not helping, Inspector,” Ria said, warning her to cut the nonsense. He knew she didn’t believe Orlan was guilty of murder, but he was obviously guilty of something in her eyes, and her sniping wouldn’t help the situation. He made the brief call to the chauffeur, and told him where to pick them up. “Now, is everyone clear? Sezil? Orlan’s still in custody if anyone asks. Sila, you think he’s a horrible evil murderer, and Orlan, you don’t exist. No calls, no liaisons, no attempts to contact people. I’m serious. You have to go as far undercover as you know how. This isn’t a game.”
“I know it’s not,” his friend said, all pretence and flamboyance utterly missing from his tone. “I just hope you catch him.”
Ria poked him in the chest. “I just hope he’s not you, my friend. Let’s move. And may the Goddess prosper us.”
“I prefer to trust to skill than luck, sir,” Sila muttered.
“And that too, Inspector. I’ll take over from here. Be careful.” She nodded, and thankfully didn’t argue with him. They had gone over her safety arrangements with great care, and a number of discreet safeguards were in place, but the truth was, there was a killer out there and Sila was in his sights. It sat badly with Ria to leave one of his officers so exposed, but she had insisted on the risk, and when it came down to it, there was no option that wouldn’t be an intolerable burden on her.
His father’s vehicle had discreetly tinted windows and a close-mouthed driver. Orlan was disinclined to talk, and seemed lost in his own thoughts. Ria ignored him for the first hour, working on his com messages and letting his friend get used to freedom. But when he still seemed disconsolate, Ria reached over and tapped his knee. “I thought you’d be pleased to get out.”
Orlan shook himself. “Oh, yes, of course I am. Sorry, my love. I’m still trying to understand what’s going on. What’s changed? Why was I arrested and then let go?”
“Can’t tell you that. Basically, we have to quarantine you. It’s for your own good.”
“But something’s happened, hasn’t it?”
“Orlan.”
His friend crumpled as if that mild rebuke was too much for him. “Sorry, I’ll behave. I just can’t believe...I mean, when Jini was killed, I thought, how appalling, but never dreamed it could be anything to do with me...but then Rosil and Larei.... And Sila—Goddess, look what happened to her. I can’t comprehend such barbarity. I can’t imagine how you think I’m capable of it.”
“I don’t, not really. It’s just that every inspector has seen mild-mannered criminals, people as charming and apparently kind as you are. Smiling killers are no cliché, unfortunately.”
“I’m not a killer,” Orlan murmured. “Please, don’t let me go back to prison. I’d rather you garrotted me yourself than let that happen.”
“I’m doing what I can.”
Orlan nodded, still looking rather listless and depressed. Ria supposed it was understandable, given the situation, but it was unnerving.
“Orlan, what happened with Estaone? What really happened? Did she leave you, or did you leave her?”
“She left, then I left. I couldn’t watch any more. Seeing her love for me die. It hurt.”
“But you still love her, don’t you?”
“Yes. Wish I didn’t,” he said bleakly.
“Want to tell me about it?” Ria said, as kindly as he could. “I won’t judge.”
“No, I know you won’t, my darling. You were always good at that,” Orlan said with a twisted smile. “There’s very little to it. I think she found someone else, though she never said. She’d had affairs before, but I’d never seen them as a threat. We’d agreed from the start that we could wander if we felt the urge, so long as it wasn’t serious, and we both came home to each other. And I always did,” he said earnestly. “I didn’t even take up half the offers I had, and I always told her about them. Always. They never touched my heart the way she did. I thought she still loved me, right up to the end. Right up to when she said she no longer considered us man and wife.”
Ria winced a little. “But no divorce?”
“She asked. I refused. I still hoped, you see. She said it made no difference to her. I held on for a while, trying to mend things, but she simply wasn’t interested. That’s when I came back.”
Ria sat up. “You refused her a divorce? Was she angry?”
“No,” he said sadly. “She didn’t care enough to be angry. She just said she’d wait five years if that was my attitude. She doesn’t want to remarry. She just didn’t want me around any more.”
Ria nodded, but to himself, wondered if a woman as passionate as Estaone could really be indifferent to something so important. “But she’s happy for you to remain in business with her?”
Orlan gave him a wry look. “I wouldn’t say ‘happy’, but she hasn’t a lot of choice, nor do I. We own two main subsidiaries within her family company. I’m the main shareholder in one, she’s the main one in the other. But she can’t remove me from either without my consent, nor can I remove her.”
“Do you really want to yoke a woman to you who doesn’t love you any more? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“It’s complicated.”
Ria looked at his watch ostentatiously. “I’ve got time. And interest. Come on.”
That provoked the most Orlan-like look he’d got so far that evening. “From a man who bit my head off and spat it out for daring to mention his precious Jerna, that’s just a teeny bit hypocritical, don’t you think, sweetheart?”
“That’s different.”
“How? I tell you what—you tell me all about your little married lover, and I’ll humiliate myself for your entertainment. Does that sound fair?”
“Don’t be a bitch. You were being nosy. I’m trying to help.”
“You’re not,” he said bluntly. “Let’s cut this short. I didn’t kill two women because my wife doesn’t love me any more, and my wife didn’t kill two women so I’d divorce her. End of story. My feelings about Estaone are my business, and I don’t want to talk about it, or my marriage. Or anything at all.”
He turned to look out the window, though there was nothing to see in the gloom as they sped through the silent countryside to Ria’s parents’ estate. Ria didn’t know whether to be angry or worried, so he settled for irritated. “It’s not like I don’t care, Orlan. I simply had no idea this was going on. You’ve not exactly been open with me.”
“Well, my darling, I had to learn about your little friend from the newspaper. How do you think that made me feel?”
“That’s not fair. Even my parents didn’t know. There are two families with children to protect. Outside of Juli and Jerna’s wife, only Sila knew before the media got hold of it, and only because I needed her help. I wasn’t shutting you out.”
“Not deliberately, no. But this is why I’m suspicious of this man. You’re not one to hide in the shadows, not from your friends. I hoped to see you in love one day, to meet the man who would win your heart completely, and I really wanted to see you happy and proud with him, my darling. But instead what do I see? Someone who can’t be spoken of, who isn’t there when you need him, whom you can’t or won’t acknowledge in public. You deserve better, my love. He’s common, and he’s not yours. Find a better man to give your heart to.”
Without even thinking, Ria’s fist curled on his thigh, and he realised in horror he was seriously considering offering violence to one of his oldest friends. He made his hand relax, and he took three deliberate breaths before he answered, in as calm a manner as he could.
“I’m not ashamed of Jerna, and discretion is purely because of my position and our families. I’ve never met a finer man, or had a more considerate lover. He’s rarer than a blue diamond, and mine where it counts. I deserve no better because I could find no better. I’ve always insisted on the best, and I’ve got it. More than you could ever possibly know, I’ve got it.”
“Ria, he’s a former whore.”
“Yes. Don’t you know how good that makes him in bed?”
Orlan threw back his head and laughed, though it sounded a little forced. “Goddess, what has the world come to that Riashe Kezime can boast of something like that? All right, I admit defeat. I don’t understand it, and I don’t approve of it, but it’s your life, my love.” He turned serious. “But Estaone is still off limits.”
“What if she’s behind these murders?”
“She’s not. Drop it. I’d rather go to prison myself than have her name sullied in this manner.”
“As you wish.”
Orlan turned his face away, and Ria, still unsettled by his friend’s attack, decided not to push it. They spend the rest of the journey in an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the driver announcing over the intercom that they were on the estate and that he’d been directed to take them directly to the worker’s cottage where Orlan was to spend the next few days—the next few weeks, if need be—in hiding.
Orlan paid more attention to things after that, though there was little to see. The cottage was on the very edge of the estate, and isolated. As it came into view, several of the interior lights revealing its location, he looked at Ria with alarm. “That? It’s a ruin.”
“It’s being renovated. Papa assures me it’s habitable. Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Strangled at birth. I dislike surprises, my dear boy, and I dislike roughing it even more.”
“I don’t think my father would expect a Gomici to rough it. We know what you’re like.” Orlan gave him an old-fashioned look for his cheek.
His father’s steward was there to meet them, bowing deeply. “Sirs, all has been put in readiness for Master Gomici. The larder is stocked, communications assured, and you will find the heating is working properly.”
Orlan examined everything, grunted as he saw the bedroom was actually quite respectable, and didn’t seem displeased with the food laid in. “I’ll be here on my own?”
“‘Fraid so. I hope not for too long, but this whole plan depends on your keeping your word, and silence. I’ll call, and so will she. But no calls out, word or text. Swear it, Orlan.”
“Oh, be quiet, Ria. I do understand. No only am I supposed to be murderous, you seem to assume I’m a bloody fool as well.”
Ria laid a hand on his shoulder. “I most certainly don’t. I hope it won’t be too tiresome. Papa said he’s happy to provide anything you might want.”
“Anything but company. I was better off in the cells. At least I knew there were other people around.”
“Are you serious? You really want to be back in prison?”
It hadn’t occurred to him that Orlan would actually prefer not to be alone, even if it meant being confined. But his friend shook his head. “No, of course not. Never been fond of my own company, my love, you know that. Can’t you stay?”
There was nothing but naked need in Orlan’s eyes, and Ria was hardly unmoved, but still he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I made a promise to Rualeji I’d be there this weekend, and Juli’s made plans.”
“Listen to you, Ria—the old married man. Who’d have thought it?”
“Not me, for sure. I’ll call, I promise, and Papa will drop by.”
“Oh wonderful,” Orlan said dryly. “Your father has always been so kind about me.”
“He’s mellowing in his old age. Well, a little,” he amended at Orlan’s sceptical look. “He’s willing to do what is needed to help you. He knows what’s at stake.”
“I know, and I’m not ungrateful, only....” He looked around him with a disconsolate expression, but then shook himself and faced Ria with a firm smile. “Go on, my boy. You’ve done what you need to. Thank you.”
That, perversely, made Ria feel like an utter worm. The only thing he could do was to pull his friend into a brief but heartfelt embrace. “Be brave,” he murmured. “And I’ll try and be here next weekend.”
“Get me out of here by then, my darling, or I’ll have gone mad and started to decorate myself with berries and leaves, like a seer.”
“Wouldn’t suit you,” he said, squeezing Orlan’s arm and letting him go. “See you soon.”
He told himself that Orlan was much better off than Jerna had been in a similar situation, and the cottage was a much better option than the station house cells, but guilt continued to nag at him all through a brief supper with his parents and the long drive north to Pivineso. Orlan was right. He couldn’t sustain this isolation for long, and at some point, the case against him would have to be made or abandoned. But if the killer was not found, that meant Sila and the Goddess alone knew how many other lovers or contacts of Orlan’s, would be at risk again. Ria had a horrible feeling they would need a stalking horse if nothing else came up in the next week or so—and wasn’t that a lovely prospect to consider.
Juli was waiting up for him, though he’d told her not to bother, and refused to let him chide her. “I had work to do,” she said. “I’ve only just got off the com with a client. Don’t be a nag, Riashe K.”
“You work too hard,” he said, kissing her forehead. “And you’ve got this lunch to organise.”
“All done,” she said cheerfully. “And I’m putting Jerna in charge of burning the steaks. You can help. I’m sure you’ll enjoy playing with his meat.”
He poked her in the nose. “You’re so incredibly vulgar for a well-bred young woman, you know that, Juli Bonen?”
“Yes, and proud of it.”
She yawned, and he noted the dark shadows under her eyes with concern. It had gone midnight. They both needed to be in bed. He decided to take matters—and her—into his own hands, startling her by sweeping her off her feet and into his arms.
She giggled and pretended to struggle. “Put me down, you horrible oaf.”
“No, not until I’ve laid the princess in her own bed and rubbed her back for her.”
“Oh, well then. Carry on,” she said grandly, relaxing in his embrace.
It wasn’t far to carry her, which was as well because she was a damn sight heavier than when he used to do this when they were teenagers. He set her down and took her shoes off for her, then sat beside her. She took his hand and searched his face. “Orlan?”
“Safe, for now. He’s not exactly happy. Can’t say I blame him.”
“He’s not the killer, is he? Not really?”
“No, I don’t think so. I never did think so, but I’m even more sure of that now.” A thought suddenly struck him. “Excuse me for a moment, my dear. I need to send a com message.”
“At this time of night?”
He bent and kissed her cheek. “Won’t take a minute, and then a back rub will be yours.”
As he promised, it took hardly any time to dash off the note to Sila. He hoped he wasn’t wasting her time. It was a long shot, but at this point, they couldn’t afford to miss any clue. If anyone could find the connection, he hoped she could.
~~~~~~~~
Though she’d not set her alarm, and had no reason to get up early, habit woke Sila at six just as the sun began to hit the curtains in her bedroom. Sloth sent her back to sleep until nine, and she was vaguely proud of herself for managing the feat.
“Maybe this holiday thing will catch on,” she muttered to herself as she stretched, and decided she was hungry enough and well-rested enough to rise. She even had the makings of a decent breakfast because Ria had sent over an enormous food parcel from one of Serelto’s most exclusive delicatessens. As a thank you and a welcome home, he’d said, and also to help her enjoy her leave. It was one of his typically extravagant, thoughtful gestures, and more than made up for the fact he drove her mad sometimes.
She made some of the excellent coffee, and spread some fruit conserve on buttered toast. Still in her pyjamas, she took her decadent breakfast into the living room so she could eat and check her com messages. Need to get out of the flat today, she thought as she switched on the screen. She’d promised Ria and Javin she would not venture out after dusk, but that still left the whole of what promised to be a lovely day to enjoy. And she was determined to do that. She would put Orlan behind her, this whole business behind her. She had a career, a brain, and very nearly enough for a deposit on her own apartment. After a few days’ break, she’d be ready to get back into her normal life again, but the break, she’d decided, was just what she needed.
She had quite a few messages, surprisingly, mostly from her family, asking how she was getting on after the attack, and saying she must come home soon because it had been too long since she was last in Milno.
“Not for me,” she said, deciding to leave answering all those kind of invitations until she’d at least had another cup of coffee.
She put her knee under her chin as she munched the delicious toast. A message from Ria? Sent at nearly one in the morning? What was he up to?
It was short and to the point. ‘Get a list of the guests who attended the private members’ show at the Wind of Paradise on the 13th. Also staff in attendance. Cross-reference with known contacts of Orlan’s—and his wife.’
She sat back and frowned at the screen. “What has that got to do with...?”
She quickly checked to see if she was missing another message from him, perhaps one explaining the reasoning behind this request, but there wasn’t one. Sighing, she quickly typed a reply. ‘Will do so. Why am I doing so?’
She had to look up the contact information for Warim Deti, and spent a little more care over her message to him than she had to Ria’s, but then, having sent it, knew there was little more she could do until she received the requested information. She certainly wasn’t going to sit inside all day and wait for it.
It was the weekend of the Serelto festival, and though it made her homesick, thinking of how much fun the Milno festival could be, at least it gave her plenty to see, do and eat, and allowed to her to keep her promise to all her over-protective friends, to stay where there were lots of people and not to be caught alone. She still kept her hand firmly on her personal alarm, and a watchful eye for unexpected activity, but that was as much to do with her normal inspector instincts as actual paranoia. She regretted that those same promises meant she had to miss out on the night-time activities, but she headed dutifully back to her building, keeping alert for the sound of anyone coming up behind her, and sticking with other people as long as she could, walking along the street to the entrance.
Safe, and rather irked at the need for this secrecy, she dumped the homemade treats and food she’d bought in the kitchen before checking her com, not really expecting an answer from the hotel just yet. To her surprise, there was one, and the information was thorough and precise. The sender, Evai Tiwil, said she was welcome to call him if she needed more than he’d sent.
There was also a note from Ria. ‘Someone was watching me as I left that show. Maybe someone keeping tabs on Orlan’s contacts? A long shot, just thought you could see if there was a connection. See what you can find out about his wife’s movements. He’s refusing her a divorce. Possible motive? Don’t spend all weekend on it.’
Hah, easy for you to say. Still, he had invited her to stay in Pivineso if she’d wanted to, so he probably meant what he said.
She put the vegetable tarts she’d bought at the festival in the oven to warm while she printed out the information Tiwil had provided. But there was a flaw in Ria’s logic. She called the hotel and after being put on hold for a minute or two, the manager came on the line.
“Sorry to bother you, sir, while you’re so busy.”
“Not at all, Inspector. This hotel owes you a great deal. What can I do for you?”
“That show that Orlan Gomici attended—how long before was he booked in to attend? And when was Inspector Kezime booked in?”
“Let me check.” There was a long period of silence when all she could hear was the quiet tapping on his com keyboard. “Ah, yes. Master Gomici was booked in the day before. Inspector Kezime was only confirmed that afternoon. There’s a note from Jerna requesting a servant in a hurry.”
So that theory was a bust. “Who would have known they were going to be there?”
“Well, Jerna, Master Deti, the servants booked to attend, and the catering staff. But actually, only Jerna and Master Deti would have known it was them. The other staff would have only known their code names. Some of the staff know the Inspector’s code name, but I’d have thought none of them would have known Master Gomici’s.”
“Ah. Do you still have surveillance recordings from the outside of the hotel for that evening? The inspector thought he may have been followed from the hotel.”
“We do, and I can make those available to you. But if anyone had been seen acting suspiciously, our security manager would have reported it, I assure you.”
“I understand. If I could trouble you for the names of the guards on duty that night anyway? I might have to interview them at some point.”
“Certainly. I’ll send a list. Inspector, I understood that, er...the case against Master Gomici was fairly well-proven.”
“We believe he might have had an accomplice, Master Tiwil. We’re still gathering evidence to strengthen the case.”
“Very well. Shocking, just shocking. Is there anything else?”
“Not for now. Thank you.”
The ping of her oven’s timer interrupting her musing, but still she stared at the screen. No one could have known much in advance that Ria would be there that night. None of the guests, certainly. So unless one of them called the killer out of the kindness of their heart, it had to be staff or someone maintaining surveillance on the building. Or perhaps Ria was just mistaken—no one had been following him, or if they were, it was nothing to do with this.
The little tarts were perfect, but didn’t distract her from thinking about the problem. If Orlan had been set up, someone had to have been watching him closely enough to know who he was seeing, even if it was for a relatively brief period of time. Jini Quelem—Orlan said they’d had sex just the once several weeks ago. Did that mean someone had been following him even back then? What had prompted the rush of killings?
It was late, and on the weekend too, but the places she needed to speak to were open all day, every day. It took very little time for her to get the information she needed from Orlan’s apartment building and the offices, then she only had to look across the two sets of names and see if there was any correlation.
When she found it, it almost jumped off the page at her. She quickly called the apartment building again. “Hello, Inspector Poucilne here again. You have a tenant in apartment fourteen—Dei Vilinziri? Does he have anyone else living with him?”
The concierge had to check. “No, inspector. Master Vilinziri lives alone, though in fact he’s not in residence at the moment.”
“And is anyone else having their mail delivered to his apartment?”
“No, I’d have a note of that, as that would be unusual. Is there a problem?”
“No, not at all, just routine enquiries. Thank you.”
She tapped her lips thoughtfully as she ended the call. Vilinziri was a Contanzi name. So was Fezineve, the name of the person who had given Vilinziri’s apartment as a contact address to the office manager.
A few more calls, and she’d learned that Fezineve was indeed Contanzi, and registered with the Department of Interior Security as all foreigners were obliged to be. So was Vilinziri. They seemed to be real, independent people—but one of them was using a false address.
She could do little more until Javin was back on duty, as he would have to be the one to initiate an investigation of these two, but in the meantime, she could start enquiries on the hotel staff. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough to give them a lead. Sila wasn’t a great believer in coincidence, and something told her this was something more than that.
So deep in her notes and graphs was she that the whoosh and thumps surprised her, until she remembered the fireworks. She went into the bedroom and stood by the window. The benefit of living in the older public housing stock was that they were close to the harbour and on nights like this, she got a fantastic view of anything happening down there. Of course, she also normally got a fantastic view of rusting warehouses and filthy machinery as well, but in the dark, these were hidden.
She watched the glittering trails and fiery fountains, firmly pushing her emotions and her memories down. An erotic evening exactly a week ago, making love with Orlan under these same stars, meant nothing to her now. The wonderful illusion Orlan had spun for her had been shattered in one brutal attack, and the revelations that had followed. He wasn’t the path out of her Thur-induced isolation, and couldn’t heal her. All she was doing now was her job, fulfilling the oath she took as a young inspector to seek the truth, pursue the guilty and protect the innocent.
The question remained to be answered—which was he?