Hobart met his gaze squarely. “I demand to know why I’m here. For God’s sake, I don’t even know how Wolf Craven was killed.”
“That’s just the point – neither do I.”
“But the body…”
“We haven’t got a body.”
Hobart shifted in his chair and gave an incredulous laugh. “Then what’s going on? Why did you send a transit vehicle up specially for me?”
“That wasn’t my idea. Somebody upstairs is putting on a bit of a show for the benefit of the Langer board.” Shimming put his elbows on the desk and leaned forward with a look of concern. “Listen, Dennis, think it over carefully before you answer – are you sure there was nothing between you and Mrs Langer?”
Hobart thought about his career ending in a single blaze of sensationalism. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Okay, okay.” Shimming touched a button on the desk. ’I’m going to record the rest of this interview, for your benefit as well as mine. You’ll be given a copy of the tape on request.”
“Suits me.” Hobart crossed his legs, making a show of relaxing. “Perhaps now you’ll tell me why I’m here.”
Shimming nodded. “On the night of May 12, 2113, you – Dennis Hobart – were present at a party in Colonel Nolan Langer’s house on Silverstream Heights. Also present was Wolf B. Craven, a junior engineering officer on a ship of the Langer Lipe. During the course of the party, at approximately midnight, you were seen by a number of witnesses having a heated argument with Craven, following which the two of you withdrew from the rest of the guests. Colonel Langer and other witnesses stated that you returned after approximately one hour, and that you were pale and uncommunicative, as though under mental stress.”
“That’s wrong,” Hobart put in. “That last bit is wrong – I talked to lots of people.”
“None of them remembers it. Anyway, do you admit to having an argument with Craven?”
“Yes, but it was nothing much. He was a bit drunk.”
“What was the argument about?”
“Well, he wanted me to go out to the freezer house at the back and look at Colonel Langer’s collection of frost animals, and I didn’t care for the idea.” Hobart heard the improvisation as though it were coming from a stranger and he felt a pang of unease. Lies, he sensed, should be kept simple and easy to manage.
“Were you afraid of the animals?”
“No – as far as I know they’re harmless. It was just that I had seen them before and wasn’t interested in seeing them again.”
“But you went with Craven anyway?”
“Only part of the way, to humour him. As soon as we got outside in the dark I slipped away from him.”
“What did you do then?”
“I walked in the gardens for about an hour – it was a fine night – then I returned to the house.”
“Was Wolf Craven there?”
“No. Not that I remember.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
“No.” It occurred to Hobart, for the first time, that it was strange that he had not seen Craven during the rest of that night. He had noticed Dorcie Langer more than once – drinking with friends, laughing a lot – but of Craven there had been no sign. Hobart experienced a momentary coldness, small but very real, like a single snowflake dissolving on his skin.
“You’ll be interested to hear that two days after the party Colonel Langer visited the public prosecutor’s office and made a deposition,” Shimming said carefully. “In it he said that he went outside for a short time to check on his frost animals, at about thirty minutes after midnight, and that on his way to the freezer house he overheard you and Craven, still out in the garden, still arguing and apparently having a fist fight.”
That’s wrong,” Hobart countered, shocked. That’s a lie.”
“Why would the colonel have lied?”
“I don’t know.” A bizarre idea – in a way more disconcerting than anything that had yet cropped up – began to stir in the lower levels of Hobart’s consciousness. “Why did he wait two days before going to the police with his story?”
“I’m told he was ill – a touch of arthritis in his arms, something like that.” Shimming looked at Hobart with renewed interest, as though trying to tune in on his thought processes. “Does the delay seem significant to you?”
“If he thought somebody had been killed…”
That idea didn’t get kicked around until it was discovered that Craven was missing – and by that time the Langer Willow had already departed, with you on board, and there’s no way to communicate with a ship on drive.”
“Neat,” Hobart said, nodding, wondering if it would be possible to encourage a certain line of reasoning in Shimming’s mind. “Convenient.”
“Not for the police – we don’t like the eighteen-year delays in our enquiries.”
“I didn’t mean convenient for the police. It seems to me that…” Hobart stopped speaking as Shimming held up one hand in a theatrical gesture of warning and at the same time touched the control button of his unseen recorder. There was a moment of near silence dominated by the hum of the air conditioning and a fizzling noise from the light fitment on the ceiling.
“As you can see, I’m speaking off the record, as a friend,” Shimming said. “It’s to give you a piece of advice.”
“Which is… ?”
“Don’t speculate on the record about who might have killed Wolf Craven.”
“What difference does it make when the colonel’s dead?”
“He has an assortment of brothers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. Old Nolan was something of an embarrassment to the family, especially after he quit playing at exploring and settled down at home, but that only makes them more sensitive than ever about anything connected with him.”
“I see.” Hobart considered the notion that Investigator Shimming might actually be his friend. “Does this mean you think I’m innocent?”
“It means I don’t see how you could have disposed of the body in such a short time. You were on foot that night and you didn’t make use of any of the other guests’ cars. And we searched the whole area very thoroughly.”
“Craven just vanished off the face of the Earth?”
Shimming almost smiled. “We considered that as a literal explanation. The Langer Rowan left the day after your ship, and for a long time we hoped there had been a foul-up in its papers. If Craven had got away to Alpha Centaurus on board it without being properly signed on – as has happened in the past—that would have solved everything. But the Rowan got back two years ago and we established that Craven had never reported for duty.”
The oppressive load began to lift from Hobart’s mind. “But you’re not even sure that Craven is dead?”
“I don’t think he ran away to sea, do you?”
“Anything could have happened to him,” Hobart said, gaining confidence. “Why, he could have decided to quit the party and walk back to the Centre. A drunk driver could have zapped him and taken the body into the next state…”
“Clever theory, that. Not plausible – but clever.” Shimming brandished the index finger of his right hand to indicate he was about to start the recorder again. “Just remember what I said about implicating Colonel Langer.”
He pressed the button. “What were you going to say, Dennis? It seems to you that…”
“It seems to me that, even if you had proof that Wolf Craven had been killed, there’s practically no case against me. Some people saw us arguing, which I admit and have explained. Colonel Langer says he heard me having a fight with Craven in the garden, which I deny. And that’s it!”
“But why, out of twenty or so men who were present that night, did Colonel Langer think it was you he heard with Craven?”