I sighed. If dead ends were money, Bayta and I could retire rich. “You really ought to try to be more alert,” I told the Modhri.
“I will,” the Modhri promised. “And may I say that I’m pleased you are still alive.”
“I’m reasonably pleased about that myself,” I said. “Okay, back to the business at hand. What can you tell me about Master Colix’s last day?”
“I’ve been pondering that question since his death,” the Modhri said. “Unfortunately, there’s little I can tell you that you don’t already know. He ate his sunrise and midday meals alone. No one approached his table during either time. Sundown was eaten with Master Bofiv and Master Tririn.”
“Master Tririn told us Dr. Witherspoon and Terese German were seated nearby at that latter meal,” I said. “Did Master Colix have a good view of them?”
“He did, and neither of them approached the table,” the Modhri confirmed. “They seemed interested only in each other.” Qiddicoj’s nostrils flared briefly. “Perhaps too interested.”
I felt my ears prick up. Terese, and Witherspoon? There was at least a forty-year age difference there. “What makes you say that?” I asked.
“He touched her in a very intimate way,” the Modhri said, and I could hear the contempt in his voice for primitive Humans who didn’t know any better than to display their affection in public.
“Where exactly did he touch her?” I asked.
A hand lifted limply from Qiddicoj’s lap. “Here,” he said, his fingertips touching his lower abdomen. “And here,” he added, moving the fingers upward a short distance.
I frowned. There wasn’t a single Human erogenous zone in either place. “Are you sure?” I asked, holding my hand a couple of centimeters above Bayta’s abdomen. “He was touching her right here?”
Qiddicoj’s eyes flicked briefly open, then closed again. “Yes,” the Modhri confirmed.
“I see,” I said, bringing my hand back. “Well, well.”
“What is it?” Bayta asked.
“At least one corner of this mess is suddenly making sense,” I said. “This dinnertime get-together wasn’t a meeting. It was a medical consultation.” I tapped my own abdomen. “Remember Terese’s stomach trouble?”
Bayta’s eyes widened a little. “Are you saying …?”
I nodded. “Our young friend Terese German is pregnant.”
Bayta shot a look at Qiddicoj. “What in the world is she doing alone on a Quadrail heading for the far end of the galaxy?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I agreed. “And it’s clear now that our Filly friends Aronobal and Emikai are definitely involved with her.”
“Why do you say that?” the Modhri asked.
“Because if they are, a few more of the pieces fall into place,” I told him. “Emikai’s concern for the air in Terese’s car, for starters—air quality would be especially important for a woman carrying a baby. And then there’s Dr. Witherspoon’s reaction after di-Master Strinni’s death, when I asked him about his rendezvous with Terese.”
“Yes,” the Modhri murmured thoughtfully. “He was very reluctant to speak of her.”
I frowned. “You remember that?”
“The polyp colony within an Eye lives for a short time after the Eye’s own death,” he explained.
“Ah,” I said, a shiver running up my back. I’d always suspected that was the case, but to have it confirmed in such a coldly clinical manner was a little disconcerting. “What you couldn’t see was that Witherspoon kept looking at Aronobal during that conversation, as if he wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to say. Physician/patient privilege is pretty much a standard of Human law these days, but other species handle it in different ways. And Witherspoon was only brought in as a consultant, after all.”
“You think Dr. Aronobal was concerned about Ms. German’s stomach trouble?” Bayta asked.
“That’s my guess,” I said. “I’m sure she knows about morning sickness, but the duration and intensity of Terese’s bouts may have thrown her enough to want a Human doctor to take a look.”
I looked back at Qiddicoj. “Speaking of death and Modhran afterlife, why did you try to finger me—no pun intended—with Strinni’s silly dying clue?”
“My apologies,” the Modhri said, a touch of embarrassment in his tone. “At the time I believed you to be the one killing off my Eyes. I wanted to raise that same suspicion in others so that they would keep watch on your future actions.”
“That makes sense, I guess,” I said. “You have no such suspicions now?”
“None,” the Modhri assured me. “To return to Master Colix’s sundown meal. His individual was birrsh, and the common was po krem, which he ate with prinn scoops.”
“Yes, Tririn’s already given me the menu,” I said. “Any chance either Bofiv or Tririn spiked any of the food?”
“None,” the Modhri said firmly. “I’ve replayed the memory of the entire meal through my mind many times since then. Neither of the others could have done so.”
I nodded. I’d already come to the same conclusion, but it was good to have it verified by a fresh source. “Let’s move on to the rest of Colix’s evening. He finished dinner and …?”
“He returned immediately to his seat,” the Modhri said. “His stomach was starting to bother him.”
I frowned. “By the time he reached his seat?”
“Even sooner,” the Modhri said. “He was feeling the first twinges before the end of the meal.”
“Really,” I said, tapping my fingertips on the arm of my borrowed chair. Heavy-metal poisoning hit Shorshians quickly, but not that quickly. “Let’s back up a bit. Did anything unusual happen that afternoon?”
“And did he have his throat lozenges with him all afternoon?” Bayta added.
I threw a sideways look at her. As distasteful as it might be for her to have to deal with the Modhri, she was obviously intrigued by the chance to access one of the murder victims’ memories. “Including during dinner,” I added, looking back at Qiddicoj.
“Mr. Kennrick visited him briefly in the early afternoon,” the Modhri said. “They discussed the halfway-celebration meal Mr. Kennrick was planning.”
I nodded. Kennrick had already told me about that. “And the lozenges?”
“They were locked in his lower storage compartment the entire time, including during the sundown meal.” The Modhri considered. “Though Mr. Kennrick did handle them later that evening, when he retrieved Master Colix’s keepsake blanket for him.”
I sat up a little straighter. That meeting Kennrick hadn’t mentioned. “What exactly happened?”
“Mr. Kennrick stopped by to say good night,” the Modhri said. “Master Colix was feeling too ill to rise, and asked Mr. Kennrick to obtain his blanket and transfer his lozenges to the upper storage compartment.”
“Were either of Master Colix’s seatmates there at the time?” I asked.
“The Juri was absent,” the Modhri said. “The Human female was already beneath her privacy shield. I believe Master Tririn was absent as well.”
Which would explain why neither Tririn, Terese, nor the Juri in the window seat had mentioned the incident. “Did he lock the upper storage compartment after he got the blanket?”
A slight frown creased Qiddicoj’s face. “I’m not certain. Master Colix watched as he pulled out the blanket, placed the bag of lozenges in its place, then flipped the blanket open and draped it across Master Colix’s torso. Master Colix was looking at the blanket, adjusting its position, when Mr. Kennrick returned Master Colix’s ticket.”
“Where did Master Colix put the ticket?” I asked.
“In his tunic’s inside top pocket.”
Which was where Bayta and I had found it when we’d later examined the body. “Did anyone else go pocket-diving in his tunic between then and the time he was brought to the dispensary?” I asked.