“Thank you.” Harriet looked around, surprised and touched by the Narseil’s thoughtfulness. Apparently El’ken’s recommendation carried some weight here.
Dendridan touched his embassy robes absently. “Officially, our reason for granting you asylum is to facilitate investigations crucial to the righting of historic wrongs against our people. Naturally, if you need to locate certain persons, or pursue information tangential to that investigation—purely as stepping stones, of course—we find no reason to disallow that.” He gave a small bow, and said, “If you require nothing else just now, we will leave you to your work.”
Harriet returned the bow. As soon as the Narseil was gone, she activated the console. She brushed past the security confirmations. “Peter? We’re here. What do you have for us…?”
Peter, she was sorry to learn, had little on the McGinnis case. The security forcefield had finally gone down, but only after the house had burned to the ground. The police still had the property cordoned off. But Peter had learned a few things about the disappearance of Maris. Security-cam records from the hospital had produced a description and partial registration number for the vehicle in which her abductors had driven off. That was enough to identify the vehicle as a rented aircar, later returned in another city, Bellairs, two hundred kilometers to the west of Elmira. However, the same vehicle had earlier turned up in Forest Hills, a town four hundred kilometers to the north of Elmira, where it had been involved in a minor traffic incident, but had fled the scene. Peter had investigators working in both cities, but his money was on Forest Hills.
“One more thing,” he added, before ending the call. “You remember, they never found Jakus Bark’s body?”
“For all the good that did us, yeah. Do you have something more?”
“Possibly. Someone fitting Bark’s description was seen leaving the planet two days ago. On a ship registered off-planet, but suspected of being connected to Centrist Strength.”
Harriet whistled. “Very good—I think. Any hard evidence we can use?”
“Unfortunately, no. If it was Bark, he traveled under an assumed name. We’re still checking, though.”
“Well, good work, Peter. Keep on it.”
Not long after, another call came in. This time it came through the regular embassy switchboard. On the com was a stern-looking woman who began, “Spacing Commissioner North, to speak with Harriet Mahoney…”
“Commissioner, I don’t know what you expect me to do. It is true that my client has left the star system, against my desires—” which wasn’t quite a lie “—but that doesn’t change his basic dilemma, or mine. The fact is he was framed on patently trumped-up charges. And your office hasn’t done a thing to dispel those charges.”
“Mrs. Mahoney—please believe me—” Commissioner North spread his hands in appeal “—we are conducting a thorough investigation, right here at the highest level. If we find any evidence of unfair treatment, I can assure you that heads will roll.”
“Commissioner, I would dearly love to believe you—”
“Well, then, let’s talk.” North placed a forefinger against his temple, and seemed to be searching for conciliatory words. “I believe if I speak to the D.A., I might be able to arrange for you to be free on bail. It’s not in my hands, obviously—but you certainly have a long-standing reputation in the community, and if you want to make a gesture of good faith by meeting me, say, at the police station—or any neutral location you would care to suggest—I might be able to prevail upon my colleagues at Justice to give you some breathing room. Wouldn’t that be better than staying holed up in the Narseil embassy?”
Harriet hesitated before replying. She had no certain knowledge of where in the Spacing Authority the corruption lay. It was possible that North was innocent. But she would have to be out of her mind to take a chance.
“Mrs. Mahoney?”
Harriet shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“But surely you realize—”
“Commissioner, look at it from my point of view. My client, who not only escaped from a pirate outpost, but brought you a captured pirate ship, was framed for a crime he didn’t commit. Then, while in my company, seeking information on a matter related to his defense, he narrowly escaped an attempt on his life. On both our lives. Finally, to top it off, we were both framed for the death of Robert McGinnis, who sent us away in his flyer because he knew he was coming under attack. Now, what would any intelligent person’s response be to a pattern like that?”
North looked troubled. “That depends on whether it’s all true, doesn’t it? I hardly have to tell you how the police see it. You lack physical evidence for your assertions, and the fact that you left a burning house with a dying man inside, taking the man’s flyer, is problematical. Unless you can produce evidence of your explanation, of course.”
“We’re searching for the physical evidence now, Commissioner. I expect we’ll be finding some as soon as there’s a thorough examination of the McGinnis property.”
North scratched his sideburn. “Well, we’re all eager to see what turns up there. But Mrs. Mahoney—I’m concerned that you’re making your case worse by your insistence on taking refuge with a bunch of—well, I mean, with the Narseil.” He leaned forward. “The thing is—from the point of view of the prosecutors—how do they know that you were at McGinnis’s house just to discuss Impris?”
“What else would we have been—?” Harriet caught herself, struck by a sudden realization. “Who told you we were discussing Impris?”
North’s gaze sharpened. Was that a flicker of dismay in his eyes? “Well, your statement—”
“Did not specify the content of our discussions with McGinnis. It said only that we were seeking historical information.”
North was silent for a moment. “I guess I must have assumed…”
“Yes,” said Harriet. “You must have assumed.” Or you knew from the start, because your people had their hooks into McGinnis.
“Well,” North said brusquely, “let’s not get sidetracked on that. Mrs. Mahoney, if you change your mind and want to talk, you know where to reach me. Yes?”
“Yes,” Harriet said, reaching forward. “Thank you—” she cut the connection and finished in a mutter “—for your concern.”
She sat mulling the screen.
“Mother?”
She looked up at Morgan, who had entered the room halfway through the conversation. “Yes, dear?”
“What was that all about? Was he just asking you to turn yourself in?”
Harriet blinked and slowly returned to the present. “Yes. Yes, I guess he was.”
“You didn’t consider it or anything, did you?”
Harriet sighed. “Well, if I had been thinking of it, he just ensured that I won’t. Ever.”
Morgan rested a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Good. I want to know that I can trust you to stay put here, when I leave.”
“Leave?”
“There’s no arrest warrant out on me. And if someone’s going to go looking for Maris, there’s a good chance they’ll need some legal advice—especially if they can’t prove that those hospital release papers were fraudulent. If you’re stuck here, that leaves me.”